WHEREFORE ART THOU, POINDEXTER?

I love nerds. All nerds; large and small. Can't get enough.
Popular culture would have you think that the nerd is an untouchable. Why didn't Molly Ringwald choose Duckie in Pretty In Pink? He was clearly the best choice, and certainly had the best wardrobe. And why didn't Lisa Turtle ever give poor Screech the love that he so desired? No one is more devoted than a nerd.
I'm not sure why I have this fascination with the socially inept or slightly unattractive, but something about them gets my juices flowing. If Comic Book Guy were a real person, I'd be all over him like Cheney on a cheeseburger. And if you know who Comic Book Guy is without pausing to think about it, you've already earned some sexy nerd points from me. Useless knowledge is the way to a girl's heart. Or at least this girl's heart. But I have a feeling I'm not alone in this inclination.
The nerd is having a surge of popularity among my peer circle. They're fascinating to watch in their natural habitat of a computer lab or D.D.R. tournament.
Perhaps my attraction to nerds is simply something that has come with age. My head is no longer turned by brawn, but by brains. You're pale and skinny and you can solve complex theorems? Woof.
It used to be endearing if a guy offered to do something decidedly manly, like change my oil. But as 2004 approaches, the priorities of women everywhere are shifting. Changing oil might come in handy, but a man who does web design is the Romeo of today.
So here I sit, with the constant desire to have a nerd by my side. If anyone's up for a game of D&D later, drop me a line.