Stop the presses!

The Complete and Total Loser may have found a woman who will deign to be with him without being his coworker. A girlfriend. That's an impossible phrase for the Loser, who has yet to have one in his 55 years.
And yet. She smiles when she sees him, she laughs at his jokes, she kisses him. All that (and yes, a bit more) and she's not insane, as far as the Loser can tell, though he may be a poor judge of that.
More later, though the Loser is old fashioned and gentlemanly about what he divulges when it comes to tits, fucking, things like that. 

The Loser knows he'll never have this—youth and love. But he may have some love.

Conspiracy Buffs (Poem)

Area 51 is home
Of aliens quite outrageous.
Half the nation worked alone
To make Kennedy uncontagious.
Dollar bills and secret shakes
Are how Freemasons talk
About making sure Hostess cakes
Control minds (thanks, Jonas Salk!).
We buffs know that eleven, September
Was a planned out plot.
The motive’s something we can’t remember,
But that don’t matter a lot.
We know what we know, we’re smarter than you,
We know the means and ends.
But though smart we need a clue
On getting girlfriends.