I've said it before: Women who like themselves don't "date" John Mayer

About a year and a half ago, I suggested female-kind should wise-up and Just Say No to Mayer. He's a publicity hound that gets...well: crazy horny for the shutterbugs. If he feels he's slipping from the public consciousness, he does something like, oh, "date" an ex-girlfriend to be certain he's back in the celebrity gossip-blogs' front-page-good-graces.

Case in point: it's not good enough to show up on the cover of Rolling Stone. Average, likeable, nice-guy musicians do that every month.

Nope.

Instead he invokes the Aniston name and lands in US Weekly as well, where he indirectly - and painfully abstractly - alludes to the fact that he "never got over her." Alludes is a generous term....he basically makes a handful of bizarrely existential references to nailing someone named Dimple$ in Vegas (Dimple$ is, by the way, somehow cosmically connected to Jen in the great John Mayer Revolving Mattress Cohesion Theory), but I couldn't quite follow his "f***-riddled" logic on exactly what that means in terms of his "destiny." Yes, he references Dimple$ and destiny in the same convoluted thought.

Desperately hoping there's a song called "Dimple$ Destiny" on his next album.

But back to the idea that D-Bag Mayer should be quarantined, re-programmed, disinfected and otherwise removed from the Celebrity Dating Pool.

It seems other women are finally beginning to agree. In an exerpt from RS, he laments the fact that "his sex life has become an endless loop of new girls rejecting him in clubs." Congrats, ladies. Keep up the good work. He also further legitimizes his king douche status by elaborating on his quest for "this life partner thing" by saying "'Think of how much mental capacity I’m using to meet the right person so I can stop giving a f--- about it.'”

Isn't that nice.

I know I think about my own "happily ever after" in terms of how much nicer it will be when I no longer have to give a flying pop tart about falling in love and can actually use my brain power on legit pursuits. And I know I can declare my Prince Charming well and truly snagged when he can sit back, put his hands behind his head, smile and say, "Great. Now that this life partner thing is done, I get all of that mental capacity back."

He also whines about what a pain it is to date "non-celebrities" because "I can’t fathom explaining myself to somebody who can’t believe I’d be interested in them." Because, clearly, any girl that's not famous wouldn't be able to fathom a famous man being interested in her, for any reason. Sure. Because if, oh, Bradley Cooper were to tap me on the shoulder and say, "Hey, let me buy you a drink" my first instinct would be "Explain yourself!!!! Why ME?!?!??!?" Show me that woman.

Her name is probably Dimple$.

I've said it before, I'll say it again: women who like themselves don't date John Mayer. Now, I'm heading off to Hollywood to go be a life coach. Where Bradley Cooper can feel free to buy me a drink, with no fear of retaliatory disbelief and probably only one or two offers to have his babies.