In a perfect world, a girl could pass out completely naked on a fraternity floor and no one would touch her. 

However, we do not live in a perfect world. We live in a world where girls and women have always been told not to go anywhere alone; not to go outside at night; and to keep an eye on each other at parties.

But considering how rape accusations have the power to royally fuck up a boy's or man's life, why aren't we also telling them that they should look out for each other?

My spirit animal. Image: @TheHappyTalent

Humans evolved to be extremely sensitive to loneliness — we couldn't survive or successfully reproduce while alone, so there was a strong evolutionary pressure to be lonely.

That is why loneliness causes tremendous physical and emotional agony — and why I've spent time writing posts to help the lonely find companionship.

It's also why my replies to the incels who criticize posts like What Men Don't Understand When They Complain, "It's Only Creepy If The Guy Isn't Hot" and "Creepy" Isn't About Attractiveness. It's About Reciprocity are curt, direct, and arguably "vicious."

The Curmudgeon's Quests, by Allan Wooley​

When I found out Mr. Parris died, I sat on my porch and wept — the mailman didn't know what to do when he saw me there, blocking the mailbox. 

What a heartbreaking loss for the whole world. 

Last week, I found out that yet another teacher who shaped my high school experience had died. Though sad, I took comfort in learning that he'd published three books in his retirement. 

I'm only on page 20 of Crumbs Cast Upon the Current: Some Stories, Poems, and Essays... but I already wish that all of my teachers would write a memoir before it's too late. 

Chris Farley's famous "van down by the river" sketch was a hilarious staple of my childhood -- but now, as an adult, I completely, 100% understand Matt Foley's rage.

And I don't even live in a van down by the river. I've just been told I should.

Image: @TheHappyTalent on Instagram

Last night, like every night before it these last few weeks, was one of the most glorious of my life. It was midnight, and I was walking through the woods, alone. The trees blocked most of the moonlight and starlight, but above and below and all around me, I was surrounded by fireflies. 

All at once, I felt secluded in nature, and like I was scuba diving, and like I was riding Space Mountain, and like I was on some kind of drug that just makes you love everything around more than you thought possible. 

I've spent 11 of the last 36 months traveling. From Austria to Cambodia to Honduras, I've blogged about how travel can teach you how to be happy; how travel is like being in kindergarten, college, and adulthood, all at once; and how there's no limit to how much you can learn (and teach) while abroad. I've seen wild orangutans, herds of elephants, five different hornbill species, 900-year-old temples, blue flame volcanoes (seriously!), and so much more.

Despite all this, when people ask me to pick my favorite country, the answer is easy:

America. 

​America is the best country.

I recently had the good fortune of meeting ​Rich Gosse, chairman of The Society of Single Professionals and author of The Donald Trump Syndrome: Why Women Choose the Wrong Men to Love​.

He told me something none of you millennials are going to believe:

"Even though I founded the second ever online dating site back in the 1990s, I still think meeting face-to-face is best.”

And I agree.

The last place I ever expected my writing to get shared... was incel forums. The Happy Talent is about taking accountability and making changes to self-improve. Incel forums are about whining like little boys and blaming women for all your flaws and shortcomings. 

In particular, these man-children complain that I say things like, "Here are actionable steps to not seem creepy," and, "No means no." 

Nevertheless, I have faith that at least some of these guys actually want to do better. Stop acting creepy. Find love. 

Which is why today's lesson is: if a girl you were hitting on was rude to you, it's probably your fault.

Last Saturday, as I was writing my review of Broadway by the Bay's Into the Woods, an episode of Malcolm Gladwell's Revisionist History began playing. Within seconds, I was able to summarize the entire episode in a few sentences: 

"They're going to say that Olympic silver medalists feel worse than bronze medalists, because silver medalists upward social compare ('I could have been the best in the world, but I'm not,') and bronze medalists downward social compare ('I'm so happy I got a medal!')."

While traveling in Malaysia this year, I met the most amazing woman. Vivacious, brilliant, and adventurous, this girl and I kayaked several miles of open sea in search of fish species we'd never seen before. We lay on the beach all night, watching the stars and eating watermelon infused with duty-free vodka. We trekked the python- and cobra-filled jungle in search of the elusive Penis Plant.