I am never going to get married. I am too old. Too fat. And I've been living alone for so long that I just could not get accustomed to a wife nagging me about where I should put my cigarette ashes, empty beer bottles, dirty socks, etc. Bachelorhood has become my immutable orientation, and although I am still not quite old enough to be immune to feminine blandishments, my libido has slowed to the point that I can now (finally) understand their costs. And the costs of being yelled at every time I might track mud on a freshly mopped kitchen floor or forget an anniversary or the proper answer to, "Do I look fat?" are just to high for a romance that will only live on in a photo album.
But if some miracle happens and I meet a woman who for a reason known only to God falls for me, I would consider marrying just so we could have kid who cries so loud as to drown out all the stupid homilies that Priests try to inflict on me during Sunday Mass.