For some strange reason, after you get married, spending your Saturday nights gleefully shoving oddly shaped fruit into the anal cavities of drunken sorority sluts at keg parties tends to become out of the question. God Dammit, that’s not cool. Men need that kind of shit to live. For fucks sake. Unfair!

I hate to play the religious advocate here, but let us consider for a moment that there is indeed an afterlife. I wonder how many marriages fail in the afterlife? I’m sure it would be a good percentage. That is when you are faced with the numbers in real time. An actual conscience eternity involved exclusively in a relationship with only one chick. That is a frightening concept at the very least. Anyone who finds anything good in that is either not thinking logically or has some evil chick staring at him intently as he reads this and must play it cool.