Science has proven there are two types of love.  The first is that insufferable monkey-love that makes human beings act like dopey little mush-mouthed idiots who coo over each other like babies.  Disgusting.  This type of love is designed to initiate sexual intercourse, which you sweaty grunting masses probably still enjoy.  Go ahead.  Rub yourselves all over each other you swine.  Mark my words, there will come a day when humanity will wake up and turn to science for the creation of life.  Sexual intercouse is hardly hygienic, what with the various illnesses you pus bags are carrying around, and relations drain the male participant of his precious energy.

The second type of love is designed to keep a couple together so that they might raise a child.  This is the part where the two individuals must feign interest in each other in order to ensure the survival of the parasitic entity the woman discharged from her hoo-ha.   Seriously, pretend you knew nothing of childbirth.  If over time your abdomen became swollen and began moving you would think you had a bad case of tapeworm!  Imagine further that one day your body disgorges this wailing purple thing in a fury of blood and mucus.  How would you respond?  Revolting.

Science can create babies, and state-sponsored orphanages can raise the damned things.  So I suggest we band together and say to hell with love.  No one needs it, it gets messy, and it promotes illness.  If one should find themselves with something akin to heartbreak they should just do what I do and drink scotch until they can no longer remember who they are.  Love?  Bah!  Who needs it?