"I need a wife. Strangers keep advising me to get one. Three times in the past fortnight, women unfamiliar to me have broached the subject with a blend of amusement and pity."This sort of thing never happens to me. There are a number of possible reasons for this but I suspect that near the top of the list is the collective understanding that it would quite possibly be doing womankind a disservice to encourage me in this sort of quest. But I digress... This state of affairs clearly upsets Mr Brooker:
"Well stop it, all of you. I don't want a wife. I can't imagine proposing marriage. Never. Not to a human. We're too unreliable.Having then drifted on to other strange areas of the human psyche, Mr Brooker secures his damn mind loss status by being the first to comment on his own article:
Besides, marriage inevitably leads to kids, and that's just weird. I don't want to stand in a delivery room, watching someone I'm supposed to love blasting a baby through her hips in an orgy of mucus, gore and screaming. My mind couldn't stand the horror. I would probably grab a rake and start thrashing at it like a farmhand startled by a rat."
"Oh good. First comment. Hello, I am Charlie Brooker, and I wrote this rubbish."He's feeling insecure about his state, which he really shouldn't. The alternatives to damn mind loss induced by singledom and the accompanying surplus time on your hands are:
a) Having a a good relationship - such as being happily married, or whatever. This is some boring-ass shit and makes you put on weight. Or...
b) Having a bad relationship - which makes one svelte, if not gaunt, and is exciting, although not necessarily in a good way.
So c) losing one's damn mind behind a keyboard seems a reasonable option, particularly if one gets paid for it. Which is a bugbear - because I'm quite capable of sustaining a relationship and saying mental stuff that invites not remuneration but questions like, "Do you think that's appropriate, Mr _____ ?" I hate that. Would it kill them to simply say they don't approve?