I, the Married Guy, have just coerced one more of my dipshit friends over to the dark side.

I was hemorrhaging all the “marriage is awesome,” “sex gets even better,” “she never stops cooking” bullshit and he lapped it up. The dumb bastard won’t even know what hit him until it’s way too fucking late.

But screw him. I need numbers. I was numero uno to cross the threshold and the hell if I’m not bringing a few with me. This makes four of us now. The bell curve is starting to take form. The advantage is slowly beginning to sway my way. They’ll all join me soon.

Less dudes who live with other dudes. More dudes who wake up to the same chick every single morning. Less guys who can get annihilated on a Tuesday night. More guys who are forced to have weeknight dinners with the in-laws. Less dudes who can order pizza whenever they want. More dudes who don’t get to eat carbs after lunch. Less guys who can experiment with random poon whenever they please. More guys who get to expand on their porno collection.

My plan is totally working. They’re all falling into place. Slow and methodical pays off again. I’m like David Koresh but way more awesome and not a fucking psycho. Actually, I’m not like David Koresh at all. I’m more like Ben from “Lost”. Except not a little bitch.

My favorite part is that I’ve already gone through all the really painful right of passage bullshit. Now I get to drink my face off and watch these hopeless assholes deal with invitations and engagement parties and crying fiancees and lameass photographers and all that shit.

I get to be the guy in the groomsman’s uniform standing at the other end of the finish line. Waving my friends through with one arm, sipping scotch with the other. Supporting them all the way. Then laughing my balls off when they’re over here with me.

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