A reader sends this link.
“Terrific. I spend all afternoon picking out the clothes to wear for a night out on the town with the ladies, and I get upstaged by some guy dressed like Popeye,” a Manhattan man who only identified himself as Austin grumbled as he surveyed the servicemen crowded into a neighborhood bar. “I can’t believe how white their uniforms are. The Navy must spend billions on Woolite.”
...With Fleet Week now in full swing, many neglected men around the city are anxiously waiting for things to settle down for the summer. “Things are going to be great next weekend,” local reveler Mike Munger beamed. “This place will be crawling with depressed woman who forgot that Fleet Week was over, and I’ll be there to buy them drinks and watch their purses while they go to the jukebox. It’s going to be a kickass summer!”
No, that's not me.
Still, reminds me of the DiVinyls' song, updated:
I don't want anybody else.
When I think about you I google myself.