The following is a transcript of a speech I gave last Friday night to “Table For One”, a support group for single people.

Hello. I’ve been asked to speak to you about love, and what I’ve learned about it. I am still not sure why you chose me to speak, unless, as I suspect, it’s for the sake of irony. But I'm happy to reveal what I can.

First of all, I know that love isn't about getting into a girl’s pants; it's about getting into her heart. Of course, getting to her heart by way of the vagina is obviously the best route. And there are no short cuts. You can’t get there through her sister’s vagina, for example. That's something I've learned the hard, drunk, and under-arrest-at-Mardi-Gras way.

Second, they say love is blind, but I have found it can make you lose all traces of common sense. I was so in denial about my first girlfriend cheating on me, that I completely ignored all the clues. You would think that finding shaky video footage of her fucking an entire park restroom full of State Troopers would have made me suspicious. Such is love...

Love can also be dangerous and deceptive: dangerous like the time I thought I had contracted genital warts, and deceptive like how it turned out I just have an unusually bumpy scrotum. I guess that's not really love's fault, though.

You know, I like when my doctor tries to convince me that I’m "normal," no matter what. Like if I told him, “Every time I complete a Rubik’s Cube, a live squirrel jumps out of my asshole,” he would just say, "Don't worry. Happens to everyone."

Anyway, love can be confusing and perplexing, and it’s hard to know what to do. I mean, I broke up with my last girlfriend thinking, “Now I can have sex with whoever I want!” That worked out about as well as when I burned down my house, thinking, “Now I can live wherever I want!” I was left looking for housing and dating prospects, in both cases settling for a cheap lay, covered in other peoples' fluids.

I guess the biggest lesson I have learned is that I still have much to learn. But I can admit that I know nothing, and knowing I know nothing makes me, like, the Socrates of Love.

Which also explains why I’m always hot-tubbing with 12-year-old boys.

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