Better Off Single Page #3

- bill Murray keeps trying to kill himself?

- You don't make sense.

The most important

things to know,

they are not, but relevant

"the one" assessment material?

You might say.

I'm just sayin'

take in a little bit more data

before you f***in' propose.

All right. She could turn

out to be a serial killer.

Trust me when I say this.

They come from places

you would never suspect.

I have no idea what that means.

Look, man.

That's cool about the date

that's cool about teeing

her up on a "c" night.

"C" night?

What are you talking about?

- We're going out Tuesday.

- Exactly. Tuesday night.

Nothin' too serious, just

wanna have a little fun.

Not wasting an "a" or "b" night.

Strong work.

She did suggest Tuesday.

I kinda went along with it.

- You still there?

- Yeah. Look,

I gotta get back to little

Jeffrey Dahmer here

but try to keep things

in perspective, okay?

Okay. Okay, fine.

Be gone with you.

Oh, and by the way...

She's the one.

Ah, well, she's not the one.

She's definitely not the one.

Angela's ancient history.

Do we gotta keep

talking about it?

Incessant whining is

driving me f***ing crazy.

Angela aside,

what kind of therapist

drops someone

as f***ed up as you?

Ah, well.

It's not all that bad.

He said we could

still be friends.

Take the cash you were giving

Dr. "don't call me,

I'll call you"

and put it towards full-body

massages twice a week.

Then you see how many

problems you still have.

Yeah, I don't really see how

that's gonna help me

find Mrs. right, but sure.

- Whoo!

- Dude, come on.

- You can't do that.

- What?

'Cause I'm not cute and

cuddly, me taking a leak

somehow defiles the

dog-piss-laced pavement

- we've been runnin' on

since 72nd street? -Yeah.

Come on, man. My prostate's the

size of a f***in' honeydew.

- You see?

For cryin' out loud, lady,

you're carrying a bag of sh*t.

Huh?

You need to quit your cryin'.

It's not like you

couldn't see this comin'.

- What?

- What? I...

- Don't...

- Come here.

- Okay.

- Huh?

All right.

- Pearl harbor...

Is that why we are fighting?

Or is it because of...

Britain?

Whoo!

Oh, my god.

Hey there, fly girl.

I got your text.

- Charlie!

Oh, my god!

You have to do a shot.

These Irish car bombs,

they're so good.

Actually, you know what?

- I'm good.

- Shots! Shots all around!

Yeah, maybe just one more 'cause

Anne and I were gonna go.

You know what

I mean? Sex.

- Right.

- Oh!

- Oh, my god.

- Whoa!

Oopsie-Daisy,

Angela has arrived!

- Come on.

That's okay.

- Help me up.

You all right? Maybe we

should get her to bed.

Huh?

Oh, sh*t!

You guys are a bunch

of f***in' amateurs.

Whoo! That was fun!

Okay. Here we go.

Let me just...

Okay, you wanna split?

Whoever he is, seems to

be able to handle it.

- I bet. -To the extent that

either of you are worried,

- I'll be leaving momentarily.

- No, Charlie!

See? She's fine.

So let's... Go dress

up like robots

and sniff each other's panties.

Warning. Warning.

Remember that?

You're not gonna let her sleep

in all those clothes, are ya?

Okay!

We can go now!

- Yeah?

- I think he's gay.

Hey! Don't do anything

I wouldn't do.

Okay.

Your phone is right

by your bed here.

I pre-dialed 9-1-1,

so, if you get

into any trouble during the

night all you have to do

- is push the green button.

- Oh.

- Okay?

- Okay.

As long as you can

make it through the night

without the use of

paramedic care, which...

If practice makes perfect, I don't

think you'll have a problem with.

A glass of water and some stuff for

your head right next to your phone.

- Hmm.

- Beyond that...

- I gotta go.

- Sh*t.

I'm sorry.

I really like you.

I do.

You're a good guy.

Oh, god.

I'm a mess right now.

Look at me.

You probably hate me.

- I don't hate you.

- I would hate me.

Oh, f***.

Please, just promise me

that you'll go out

with me again.

Please? No drinking. We'll go see a movie.

It'll be so fun.

What about Friday?

Are you free?

I was thinking Monday.

Just kidding.

Whenever you want.

Whenever.

It'll be so fun.

Huh? Yeah?

You are somethin' else,

you know that?

I know.

So, why not go out with me?

What's the worst

that can happen?

When Brice asked me

to be his best man,

a lot of memories

flashed through my mind.

In fact, I can vividly

remember the first time

I ever saw Rebecca

and Brice together, huh?

It was red lobster,

Brice's 29th birthday.

F***in' all you can eat

popcorn shrimp

I knew at that very moment

I could see it in her eyes.

Brice should absolutely

under no circumstances

marry this woman!

But, of course,

I said nothing and, now

2 1/2 years later, here we are.

To the happy

un-couple!

- My man.

Thank you, Vince!

Thanks to all of you

for being here to help celebrate

this truly special day.

- It really does mean the world. -You

guys know Brice is an a**hole, right?

You may have noticed that my wife

Rebecca won't be joining us tonight.

Yeah, but, at least

he's our a**hole.

That's because I have divorced that

cheating b*tch effective today!

She does send her regards

from the throes of hell.

Plus some of the sh*t this a**hole

spews... it's fun to watch.

It's official,

so let me go ahead

and set a couple things

straight.

First, yes...

These are real.

And, second, yes...

Sexy ladies of New York City...

All of you...

Not you! That's f***ed up.

She's my cousin.

- She's my cousin.

- F***ing with you.

But sexy ladies

of New York City,

I am totally f***ing available

to crush ass and/or p*ssy

any time you want!

Take these motherfuckin'

divorce papers!

I'll take these divorce papers

from the bottom of my dick!

- Take it from my dick!

- Mmm. Oh...

- All right.

That hurts good.

All right.

I'm gonna go.

- Oh!

- Seriously, though

- I kind of...

- Okay, okay, okay.

I don't know what it is...

I just kind of don't even know

where to start with all this.

- That's the thing. -I

bet you don't, Charlie.

All right?

That's natural.

I didn't know how good I had

it single until I got married.

- Never do that again. No

offense, buddy. -Right.

- Kathy's a... -no, no, listen.

I understand

that sounds good,

but I think it...

I think it's too good

to be true. Am I right?

I have way more sex single

than I ever had married.

- Come... really? -Yes and what's better

than a f***in' one-night stand?

There's no commitment.

There's no annoying

neediness or feelings.

And when she spreads her

legs free of obligation

of commitment, of the need to

give her half of what you own...

You can't have half of this,

not without

one of these, my friends.

That free-market

p*ssy is gold!

- Gold, huh? -A coveted

commodity that appreciates

in a down economy? You

bet it's f***in' gold.

And you need to hoard as

much of that gold as you can

while the single man's liquidity

proposition still exists...

- Jesus Christ.

- My friend.

Forget about Angela.

You realize the next time

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