Once upon a time, there was a man who lived by himself. Being the kind of man who didn't believe in shaving and didn't take much stock in general hygiene, he was content with being alone. This was a very good thing, as women didn't much care for him or the odoriferous cloud that clung to him like a wet shirt. The last time he was close to a woman was when he took his cousin to his senior prom, but even she needed to apply a bit of Vick's VapoRub under her nose before the slow dances. He was a quiet man, and didn't require much.
He worked part-time at a local convenience store, and while it wasn't a very fulfilling job, he told anyone who would care to listen that it was enough for him. Besides, it was close enough to walk to. The fact that he didn't have a car (or a license) was never mentioned. He put in his thirty hours a week selling cigarettes and gasoline and beer to the locals, and spent the rest of his time at home in front of the computer, eating cheese curls from the bag and drinking Red Bull.
By nature, this man was very curious. Despite his thirst for knowledge he didn't do too well in school, dropping out by the time he was in the 10th grade. One doesn't need a diploma to run a cash register, he often says, and dropping out of school gave him more time to focus on his career. He worked his way up to Assistant Shift Manager at the convenience store, a pretty lofty title in his mind, and that gave him the pay raise he needed to be able to afford internet service for his tiny efficiency apartment.
He satisfied his thirst for knowledge by searching the internet for answers to his most pressing questions. At work he often writes notes down on scraps of receipt paper so he can remember to search for things when he gets home. Like a "timeline for all the hurricanes, storms, hell, floods, and thunder that has happened from August 2009 until present". Or "badass names for his air conditioner". Or if "miniature dachshunds are considered chick magnets, or if it'd make him seem gay". Google was his best friend and confidant, allowing him to ask the hard questions without feeling like he was being judged.
One night, when he was feeling uncharacteristically lonely, he tried searching for other people who participated in his favorite pastime. He thought if maybe, just maybe he could find at least one other person who liked to "dance the Macarena with a homeless guy in an elevator", he wouldn't feel so alone in the world. He stayed up way late past his bedtime that night, searching through page after page of results.
Just as he was about to give up, he finally happened upon this one blog where this guy talked about being a badass and a geek. He felt an instant kinship with this person, and while he never professed to enjoy dancing the Macarena in an elevator with homeless men, he thought that he could look past that. The guy was sometimes funny, and he found he could use a bit more humor in his life. Satisfied, he bookmarked the page to return to later, turned off his computer and went to bed.
The next morning, he woke up feeling fulfilled. Something stirred in his heart, something he hadn't felt in a long time. He took a razor to his scrappy, ill-formed beard, and showered for the first time in a week, using actual soap this time. He liberally applied deodorant instead of his usual one-scrape-per-armpit, and remembered to brush his teeth. After putting on fresh socks and Velcro-ing his shoes nice and snug, he stepped out of his apartment. With the sun shining warm on his face, he felt good. Most importantly, he felt good about himself (something he hadn't felt since the time he reached second base on prom night).
He walked to work with a skip in his step, and lived happily ever after for the rest of his days.
At least that's how I picture it. Some weird guy in a dingy apartment somewhere, thinking up the oddest and strangest things to search for that happen to bring traffic to my blog. The things my fictional bachelor searched for are actual search terms that have brought visitors here recently. It never ceases to amaze (and sometimes scare) me.
About the moral of this "story", I'm not suggesting that my blog is the key to happiness and fulfillment in one's life, as was the case with my fictional bachelor here, but you never know. Sometimes all you need to turn your day or week around is something to laugh at.