Recently singled — i.e. bitter, confused, grieving and feeling generally unloved BY THE WORLD — my OTA entered at exactly the right time.

In the gayest wedding Crawford, Texas ever did see, first daughter Jenna Bush said “I do” this past Saturday.

What’s with the butt?

I mean, really, if I hear one more lesbian talk to me about the butt, I think that I might… I think that I might… I think that I might?!? Eeh gats!

She said, “Okay, you can look up.”

I almost peed myself on the corner of 51st and 6th. Diana Ross.

"If I say to him, 'I need you to f*ck me like a thug from the projects,' and he doesn’t understand, then we can’t be together. When we have sex, I cum at least four times.”

I woke up panting, sweating and altogether too wet for words.

“Sorry. I have to cancel. We’re going rock climbing.”

“Oooo kaaayy!?!” I said somewhat reluctantly, trying not to sound like too much of an asshole. “Have a good time!”

I hung up the phone, confused, shocked and maybe a tad bit vexed.

As the crew and I are getting a little older, and as we’ve all kind of made a collective decision to not be the “old lady at the club,”