This was my first of five weekends alone in my house, as Marcia and Katelin left for Des Moines on Thursday. It was quiet, and lonely, but as a student of American film-making, I understand that it is my sworn manly duty to take advantage of my temporary bachelorhood by engaging in all sorts of bad behavior, ideally while talking about really filthy stuff with my best friend, Seth Rogan. It took me a little while to get into the spirit of the thing, but I feel like I am catching on, as evidenced by the following deplorable behaviors that featured at Chateau J. Eric Solo this weekend:
- I cancelled a DVR taping of “The Good Wife” to watch the Packers-Falcons game.
- I parked in the very middle of the garage. Well . . . not quite the very middle, but not quite as close to the wall as I have historically parked, anyway.
- Instead of making my usual house salad for dinner (greens, sunflower seeds, bacon bits), I just ate the bacon bits out of the jar.
- I drank straight out of my water bottle without pouring it in a glass. Then, I got really crazy . . . and I drank straight out of Marcia’s water bottle.
- I put a pot in the dishwasher instead of washing it by hand in the sink.
- I threw away a Macy’s One-Day Sale Flyer without even looking at it.
- I sat in the hot tub four times in a day, instead of my usual three.
- I put Napalm Death on the Family iPod.
- I washed my colors and my lights together in one load, and even put a towel in with them.
- I turned the heat down to 62 at night, instead of the usual 64.
- I talked to the cats more than I talked to other human beings.
I’m feeling pretty depraved and debauched right now, as you can well imagine, after a crazy-ass bachelor weekend like that one! Next weekend, I’m thinking about really going over the top, maybe by sitting on Marcia and Katelin’s couch in the T.V. room when I watch the football game, rather than laying on the floor, as I did last night. I figure that ought to be enough to get my other best friend, Will Farrell, to come over so we can go run around the neighborhood in our ill-fitting tidy-whitey underwear while screaming and blubbering and stuff.
I sure am glad that I have Hollywood to show me what it means to be a man in America today!