Sometimes I wonder if I’m going to be single forever, and I feel a little blue…

Then I remember the guy in Montana who tried to stab his wife with elk antlers because she wouldn’t drive him to the strip club and I think,

Naaa, I’m good.

I still don’t know what I want to be when I grow up, but I know I want it to be spelled right and punctuated correctly. I guess that’s something.