caseofthemondaysGood Morning Vomiteers!  I spend a lot of time lately thinking about getting older.  I turn 33 in a week, and I look at women in my generation and wonder, “Who is my Tina Fey?”

Single girls my age have come up with this concept of becoming an old cat lady, and even though it’s in jest it’s something they seem to embrace wholeheartedly.  There isn’t a male equivalent to this lonely old person scenario except for the “creepy old man.”  Which oddly enough shouldn’t be embraced by single dudes such as myself. Even though I own penty of comfortable sweaters (cardigans even) I enjoy hard butterscotch candy and should never ever wear a mustache in public I wonder who am I supposed to idolize as an independent dude.

I want to think of myself as a sexier Harvey Pekar, but even he found someone (ed. thanks Joyce!)  There aren’t older confirmed bachelors to look up to (I’m not a confirmed bachelor, but you get the idea).  What are dudes like me supposed to be when we grow up?