five reasons you should have your own shitler

lately i've been seeing/talking to what seems like a crapload of people (when really it's like three because hi - i don't have many friends) who are just living the shit out of the single life.  and while i can respect the single life for the solo-living and the fly by the seat of your pants type of decisions that mean you don't ever have to run anything by anyone i have to respectfully disagree about being single.

and cool your jets.  because this is certainly not an ode to loving shitler because i'm not, nor will i ever be the type of girl that thinks her husband/finance/boyfriend/whatever farts sparkles and rainbows because that guy farts and it's nasty-town, usa; population: shitler. but here are five reasons you should have your own shitler.
personal butler there's always that awkward moment when shitler isn't home and my wine glass is empty and i'm just fucking lost as to what happens next.  do i wait for him to get home so he can pour me another glass?  do i *gasp* do it myself?  should i call him and see what his ETA is?  HELP ME.

as you can see he's bringing me both my bra and beers.

joint checking because misery loves company.  i'm broke, you're broke, etc. there was a time in college when apparently i didn't know how money worked and just spent coinage like it would magically replenish itself.  needless to say it was quite the deep hole i had to dig my way out of and i had to do it all by myself.  but now that shitler and i have joint checking it's nice to sit and commiserate with someone that you can't pay your bills, you can't do anything fun, and also your bank account is negative.

just a couple of kids regretting that whole college thing.

a partner in crime that doesn't have a vagina and no - i'm not the type of girl that's all "OMG i sooooooo don't get along with girls" and yes having chicks around is nice.  but when you live with someone and you're almost always on the same wave length it's just one giant relief.  i mean do you know how often "so do you just want to stay home tonight and be a piece of shit?" gets said in the shitler household?  the answer is "a lot."  and not to mention having shitler is the perfect person to talk shit to.  first off he barely listens to me so i can just rant till the cows come home and second he's like a vault and the key to said vault has been lost a long time ago.  i never, ever have to worry about shitler double-crossing me and revealing my deepest hatred for my mortal enemy.

i do like to think we can have an ok time together.

having to be social is exhausting
i could sit and listen/live vicariously through everyone else's single life for the rest of my natural life but there is no way in hell that i actually want it for myself.  i imagine that with dating comes the need to shower on a regular basis and/or give a flying fuck; neither of which i can be bothered with.  and i honestly cannot fathom having to consistently talk to new people or date new people.  it could be my inherent laziness shining through but i am, and always will be, a creature of habit.  i want my couch and my shitler (and sometimes i don't even want shitler).

i mean could time is the best time. and so is hand down the pants time?

they're stuck with you

HAHA sucka!  you asked me to marry you and i already called "no take backs" and now you're fucked.
those terribly disgusting sweat pants you can't bear to part with and wear constantly?  ya - they have to suffer through being around them.  your whining on a regular basis?  welcome to the thunder dome bitch.
my bullshit? well - now it's your bullshit. and i don't even feel bad about it.  because now they're in it for the long haul and it kind of feels like you secretly won the lottery (except you're still broke) because you can be the terrible person you really are and they have to just accept it.

i mean - you'd date us, right?

in closing i realize that these reasons aren't very good reasons for wanting your own shitler but oh well.  i guess the real question is did i actually convince any of you?