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Archive for June 2009

Secrets Of The Modern Bachelor:
Part 1. Why Are They Single?

by Jonathan B. Perry

NOT my panel

NOT my panel

Why are bachelors still bachelors?  It’s a reasonable question.  Aside from the obvious mutational factors common to bachelors, there are other reasons.  Being brain diseased myself, I have only the faintest notion of my own condition, so I decided to harass my bachelor comrades to see what they had to say in hopes they’d enlighten me with some bachelor trends I‘d missed.  Maybe they’d provide some good answers I could pass off as my own if I’m ever asked about my marital status at gunpoint at an uncomfortable family gathering, like last summer at my 23 year-old cousin Dan‘s wedding (there was probably no gun).  I came up with the swell notion of putting together a little questionnaire and emailed it to 12 bachelor friends I know who still talk to me (I don‘t ever actually see any of them, we just have each other‘s email addresses).  At least they talked to me before I sent them the emails.  I only did get 6 responses.  Really 5 ½.

In my great act of nosiness, I posed several personal and potentially embarrassing questions about bachelorhood.  The guys I asked ranged in age from early twenties to about 50ish.  Most of respondents were in their 20s and 30s.  A few are hardcore career guys who are pretty busy getting things done.  Some are creative types, and a few are video gamers who do little but gaming.

Besides asking the guys why they thought they were single, I also asked them why their friends and families thought they were single.  I asked about the advantages and disadvantages of singleness and what they missed about being in relationships.  I tried to find out what their relationship hopes were for the future (clubs, the cloister, or mom‘s basement), whether they’d had interesting experiences with blind dates and, particularly, with online dating.  I also wanted to know if the bachelors had had weird interactions with couples.  Whether there was abuse or shunning or that sort of thing.  One respondent totally got the wrong idea about what I meant by “weird interactions with couples”.  Bad bachelor.

Why Are You Single?

The two Jameses were fairly agreed that they were single by choice and were enjoying it.  One said he was single because he wasn’t ready to settle down and the other said he was enjoying his downtime from relationships, having been in them most of his life and, apparently in need of rejuvenation.  Josh said he was single because he didn’t get out much, being a reclusive gamer.  Nathan had self-esteem issues with his weight and lack of professional job, thinking he’d be of little interest to the women in which he was interested.  He was also a bit shy.  Raoul (totally a fake name) was a goldmine of issues and had several answers to why he thought he was single: low self-esteem, lack of social skills, fear, the good ones are always taken or off-limits, he moves too slowly, and he ends up as “just friends” with the girl.  Also, he doesn’t get out much because he’s either at home playing the guitar or off skateboarding by himself.  I found I could empathize with Nathan and Raoul, aside from the skateboarding.

When it came to the answers about why the bachelors’ friends and families thought they were single, the bachelors figured their friends and families agreed with their own answers, which removed some of the fun psycho-analytical possibilities.  I really wanted more bizarre stuff, like a mother fearing her son was too busy going to drag clubs at night to meet any really nice girls, or friends thinking the guy should bathe more than once a week and do a few sit-ups.  But no.

James S’s family thinks he’s single because he hasn’t found the ‘right one’ yet.  He says they’re wrong because he loves the ‘wrong ones’.  He feels his friends think he’s single because he’s trying to ‘find himself’ for once or that the special someone hasn’t yet succumbed.  Nathan figured his family felt he didn’t try to date enough.  Raoul (this fake name is swell) says his friends think he’s chicken, and he agrees with this assessment.  He thinks his family believes he’s too busy with his studies or has chosen the monastic path of celibacy or they rarely think about his condition (sounds like a disease, huh?) or just don’t care.  He’s pretty sure they don’t think he’s gay or visiting drag clubs after classes.  I wonder if they’d wonder about drag clubs if we mentioned it.  We probably shouldn’t mention it.

Yes, bachelors are a wonder and we’ve only just scratched the surface.  Next time we’ll discuss our panel’s dating trends, including blind dating, online dating, and carbondating (ok, maybe not the last one).

The secret word is reclusive.

Read These:

Top 5 Reasons Women Are Single

World Of Warcraft…Dating?

Dating Advice From The Family

Family Advice:  A Reversal (Sort Of)

Dating Satisfaction Survey

Google-Stalking the Ex

Changing Your Relationship Status On A Social-Networking Site

Secrets Of Robot Women

Bachelors in History

Which is Your Type? A Pseudo-Cosmo Quiz

Celebrity Crushes: The Girl Next Door

Celebrity Crushes: Is Elegance Elitist?

Valentine’s Day Shame

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    Visually-Oriented Women??

    slob1Visually-oriented women?  What’s up with that?  Apparently it’s true.  My friend PM Chin says it is and she’s a girl (woman.  sorry.).

    “Here’s the difference in how we approach and value attractiveness: men look at women as if we are already furnished, designer decorated houses, but women look at men more like fixer-upper homes, the kind that need a lot of work.”

    After a few delightfully scathing admonishments, Chin has some useful advice for the guys.  Really a funny piece.  Read the full article here:  Turnabout Is Fair Play

    There should be a new article about relationships forthcoming (maybe Sunday).  I’m working on a few posts at the moment, but the pigs need more lipstick first.

    Related Reading:

    Other Posts By PM Chin

    Children, Braid Your Nosehairs

    11 Steps To Becoming A Domesticated Bachelor:  #3. Shape Up, Fatty

    11 Steps To Becoming A Domesticated Bachelor: #2. The Right Wardrobe

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    60,000 HITS and Auto-Tune The News!

    Celebratory Cake I threw out yesterday

    Celebratory Cake I threw out yesterday

    ‘Hits’ has a violent taint to it, with visions of underworld fight clubs and automobile accidents coming to mind. And mafia murders. There’s also the scruffy drug reference, but in this case we speak of the glorious interweb definition, as in “TheDomesticatedBachelor.com has now had 60,000 hits!” Yes, there have been 60,000 visits (however that’s measured) to this blog since it was started in February, about four and a half months ago, and we’d like to thank you, dear readers, for checking out this site so much, instead of porn, on your lunch breaks, during your family vacations, in the bathroom, and before you go to bed at night (to be exact, some of the hits were to the proto-site and were counted with an abacus).

    In celebration, I’d like to offer a video as a sacrifice…I mean, for your entertainment! If you haven’t yet seen it, check out episode 3 of Auto-Tune the News. This is my favorite of the Auto-Tunes. One of the best parts is the ‘trio’ with Hillary Clinton and the presidents of Afghanistan and Pakistan (I also like Katie Couric twitching whilst on ‘pause’. Yeah, I said whilst. I’m a pretentious dork.). Your patronage rocks! Thanks so much for reading. Come back often and check out the old stuff (the most popular posts are now listed on the right).
    Merry Christmas,
    Jonathan

    Read Some of the Best Posts:

    Google-Stalking The Ex

    Sound Of Music Death Match!!! Liesl v Maria

    Esperanto Rhymes With Tonto

    Valentine’s Day Shame

    Logan’s Run & Population Control

    World Of Warcraft…Dating?

    Bachelors In History

    Bachelor Profiles: Mad King Ludwig

    Will Your Siblings Use Up The Good Names?

    Kitten Of Evil

    Celebrity Crushes: The Girl Next Door

    Which Is Your Type? A Pseudo-Cosmo Quiz

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    Ignoring Adult Responsibilities

    in our dorm room (Left-Jay;Right-my facial hair attempt)

    in our dorm room (Left-Jay;Right-my facial hair attempt)

    by Jonathan B. Perry

    For Memorial Day weekend I visited my brother Jay in Minnesota. I live in Nebraska, so it’s a drive of about 6.5 hours over plains and hills of corn to lakiness with trees, mosquitoes and mutant frogs. I had a super visit, and this holiday drop-in was even a little different from our normal visits. Jay’s wife and their awesome little boy went to Michigan to see her family. Jay stayed behind in MN to see me. Excellent! I especially missed not seeing my four year-old nephew, but was spoiled having Jay all to myself. Even though I’ve gotten over the fact that he’s been married over a decade (and is now sort of a Cubs fan by proxy. Boo. Go Giants!), it’s still a rare and special thing to hang out with him in his solo state.

    It was like being back in college and living together in the dorm again: the Perry Brothers staying up into the wee hours and talking about nothing, except now we’re in our 30’s and there’s the specter of work lurking in the back, as well as mortgage refinance talk and not a lick of school. And for Jay, a wonderful family. Yes, we still had our responsibilities, but could vaguely pretend them away for a few days (at least I tried to). We even toured part of the greater Minneapolis area, which included Minnehaha Falls and the Ikea store. Oh, and the Mall of America.

    What if, at a moment’s notice, you could be free of all your adult responsibilities? Fold up your grown up stuff and stick it in a box in the garage for a bit. It’d be like those childhood summers where you’d sleep in and do whatever you wanted to all day, every day. No work. No school. The adults would be away at work, so there’d be no one around to hold you responsible for anything. You could go down to the creek, play video games, watch tv, read comic books, eat junk food, swim.

    But like all summers, they end and you have to go back to school or your job and mortgage and student loans. Back to life. Back to reality. (hum relevant 80s song). Plants must be watered. The lawn needs to be cut. The cat missed you and threw-up all over your sofa in retribution, so you have to clean that up, too. This visit with my brother was a special sanctuary from the real world and I look forward to savoring the next one. We really should do more of these. He could even visit me and I could drag out the Sibling Bonding Rituals I wrote up many years ago and forget they’re super lame. Yes, the sibling bonding time is the best. I do want to see my nephew, though.

    Further Reading:

    Being An Uncle

    Dating Advice From The Family

    Family Advice: A Reversal (Sort Of)

    Will Your Siblings Use Up The Good Names?

    Men Without Cats

    Couples vs Singles: Socialization

    Changing Your Relationship Status On A Social-Networking Site

    Esperanto Rhymes With Tonto

    Bachelors in History

    Valentine’s Day Shame

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    Attractive Girls Union

    My brother Jay found this video, ” The Attractive Girls Union Refuses To Enter Into Talks With Mike Greenman“.  It’s hilarious!  I knew there was something going on. The AGU IS very powerful!!

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    My Bachelor Weight Loss Secrets:
    Stickin’ It To The Terrorists

    weights russian

    by Jonathan Beanpole Perry

    I’m pleased to say that over the last 12 weeks or so I’ve lost 25 pounds!  (I sort of had to starve myself the last few days to drop those last 2 pounds, despite a huge nacho craving, but I did it!)  Otherwise, no magic tricks.  No feathers (though I was inexplicably sick a few days).  This weight loss has been from a mix of diet and exercise.  I’ve had less sugar and fewer desserts (I’m a big chocolate ice cream freak), smaller meal portions, and replaced a few dinners a week with shredded wheat bran cereals, which I’ve suffered through stoically (I’m very brave.  And regular.).

    I’ve been taking lots of walks around the neighborhood and am now on the neighborhood watch list.  I also walk to the park or lake, and do some cycling at home as well as a 10 minute weight-lifting regimen every other day.  In fact, I’ve gained muscle weight, so really I might have lost like, say, 28 pounds of fat and gained 3 pounds of muscle (might be some brain mass loss, too). It’s nifty to need smaller pants and a new belt.  I could wear the old pants and do that whole lowrider pants hanging above the butt thing, but would probably trip and die.

    Not my Hobbit feet

    Not my Hobbit feet

    I haven’t been down to this weight level since 2001.  That year I went to Germany with my uncle and cousins for 3 weeks and lost a few pounds.  A few weeks later, the Twin Towers were destroyed.  I’d like to blame the terrorists for that ensuing weight gain (coincidence?  I think not.).  But I’ve lost all that weight again.  I’m still not at my college weight, which I may not reach, but losing another 25-35 pounds would be super.  That should put me near the upper range of normal for my height.  That’ll show the terrorists.

    Every so often I’ll lose a few pounds, just to tease myself.  “Oh, look!  I’m losing weight!  Yay!”  (Muppet hands waving).  Then, dejectedly, “Oh, no.  Shamu.”  I seem to lose the most weight when I go on vacation or travel to a foreign country for a few weeks, especially if there’s hardcore tourism involved or very few places with veggie food (Britain had lots of veggie food, so the weight loss must have been from that crazy UK itinerary tracking down all those cathedrals and doing laps around them).  I’ve lost the most weight when I’ve been particularly motivated.  Feeling better, being healthier and better looking (for the womenz) are huge motivators.  I’d like to go swimming again without feeling self-conscious, though I’d still be super pale.  I’d also like to become that Domesticated Bachelor dude I keep hearing about on this awesome blog.

    whale cakeOff and on for a few years I took that Hydroxycut weight-loss supplement at the suggestion of my youngest brother Chris who’d had success losing weight with it.  I had no perceptible weight change using Hydroxycut.  Fortunately, I was undisciplined enough to use less than two bottles over 5 years.  Little did I know he was secretly trying to kill me.  You’ll get your comeuppance, Chris!  After it had been removed from the market for causing liver damage and death (goody), I notified my brother, who, only fearing for his life a little, suggested I hold on to the bottle, in case any remuneration was offered (he didn’t actually use that word).  So, it’s still there, lingering in my medicine cabinet. Waiting.

    Anyway, I lost weight without a miracle drug, so yay for me!  I hope to keep losing it for a while and one day be normal again (weight-wise).  For now, I think I’ll go celebrate and bake a cake.  Maybe make some nachos.

    Further Reading:

    11 Steps: #3- Shape Up, Fatty

    11 Steps: #2- The Right Wardrobe

    11 Steps: #4- Learn To Cook

    11 Steps: #5- Travel The World

    Holiday Chocolate

    11 Steps: #s 8 & 9: Proper Socialization/Throw Parties

    Oral History Fixation Cooking

    Read Some of the Best Posts:

    Logan’s Run & Population Control

    Google-Stalking The Ex

    Sound Of Music Death Match!!! Liesl v Maria

    Esperanto Rhymes With Tonto

    Valentine’s Day Shame

    World Of Warcraft…Dating?

    Bachelors In History

    Bachelor Profiles: Mad King Ludwig

    Will Your Siblings Use Up The Good Names?

    Kitten Of Evil

    Celebrity Crushes: The Girl Next Door

    Which Is Your Type? A Pseudo-Cosmo Quiz

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    Your Retirement Savings…In The Couch

    PD*25569140

    by Jonathan Bactrian Perry

    Over the last five years or so, I’ve developed a shiny disorder around the house.  It seems I’ve been quietly amassing a boatload of change.  Oh yes.  Coins.  Coins everywhere!  Muwahaha!  In every nook and cranny:  on the end table, in my shoes, in the keyboard, and on the floor.  During a random sporadic organizational period (occurring every solar eclipse), I started gathering the coins together in jars and Ziplock baggies expecting to save up and one day make a fabulous bank run where I’d trade my bags of coins for bags of fresh paper cash and the title to a new Lexus.

    It worked for my boss (not the Lexus part).  She and her family saved up their money in a giant Tootsie Roll for a few years until one day they cashed it in for an astounding $350 and used it for an exotic cross country drive.  This was excellent news.  I’d even read online or in a newspaper that an older man from back east took his vast collection of pennies into the bank and it yielded him several thousand dollars.  What a deal!  If he could do it, I could totally do it.  This was all the inspiration I needed.  Actually, I didn’t need any inspiration.  Money is inspiring in itself.

    My collection grew and grew, week after week, year after year, until one day, I grabbed my stash and made that mythical bank run.  A quick approximation based on a quick count of quarters in one bag suggested that in all the bags and jars I might, just might, have $150, maybe even $200, in my massive pile of magic found money.  It should be enough for a medium range iPod, a couple car payments, or about half of a round-trip flight to see the family in California.  Excellent stuff.

    coin-counting-machineOf course, it didn’t turn out quite so well.  I’d been a little worried that the bank might not have a speedy change counting machine, but this wasn’t a problem.  After returning from her sequestered counting expedition, the bank person/maid/waitress reported back to me that my precious yield was only $70.94.  Now, for found money, $70.94 is nothing to sneeze at, unless you’re planning a trip to Europe and discover that this US cash is only enough to buy maybe 3 cups of hot chocolate at a cafe in Belgium, so my wild visions of new found wealth were quickly brought down to earth.

    I’d even considered the idea of saving up the dirty money from now until retirement, then one day, on my 70th birthday perhaps, dragging these pickle jars and colostomy bags full of coins into the futuristic coffeehouse bank stationed 5000 feet above my house in the New World Order’s airspace only to find out that they’ve gone back to using wampum instead.  Based on my recent yield, it would seem that if I only collect $70 in change over a 5 year period, then in a 40 year period (8 times as long.  Isn‘t that weird?  Math is amazing.) I would only have $560 to see me through my retirement.  This is still nothing to mock (for retirement, yes), but makes one mindful of the importance of retirement investments and producing rich children.  I’m suddenly reminded that I need to clean out the edges of my couch and chairs.  And have children.  Less than two years after this initial coin cash-in, I did another home scrounging and got an even bigger payout.  This time I got $118.21!  This improves on my earlier retirement figures (nearly tripling), but still lacks the necessary funding for a total retirement party blowout with the other geezers at the rest home.  I guess I’ll still need my 401k after all.  Oh, and social security, if it’s still there.

    A while back, when I worked in customer service, a woman called to make payment arrangements on her mother’s account.  Her parents were retired and owned a house, but her father had just died, and at this point her declining mother had to go into a nursing home and, with all the related costs, they had to sell the old family home.  The worried daughter took the opportunity to tell me about the need to acquire Long-Term Care Insurance.  She wasn’t a salesperson, but merely a concerned citizen.  She wished they’d gotten the insurance to help pay for nursing home care.  I talked about this to my mom who assured me that she wouldn’t need the insurance because she was going to live coin-bagwith me anyway.  I told her that this would work only if I had a separate house for her on this fictional property and she wasn’t able to get around well enough to come in and out of my house at will, and also wasn’t crippled enough to require frequent assistance like being turned over every hour or to avoid bedsores.  Man, I love her.

    To me, it seems weird that people work 40+ hours a week for 40-50 years, then retire in time to be old and die.  That’s just too much of your life.  Apparently, it’s important to enjoy your job after all.  The company I work for teases us by putting out an obituary report every so often for employees and former employees.  It was interesting and a little sad to see that there are some employees who’d only been retired 5 years before they died.  The ones I like to see are the listings for those people who’d been retired 25 years before they passed away.  That would be much better.  Twenty-five years to live unencumbered by servitude and slavery would be great!  You also wonder, though, how strapped for cash they might have gotten at the very end.  That might be it’s own slavery.  Hopefully they have large couches full of change.

    Coming Up…Maybe:  If I can lose those last 2 pounds, I’ll post about my awesome weight loss with joyful obnoxiousness!  Problem is I’ve started cooking way too much, so I may have to post about that instead.

    Further Reading:

    Logan’s Run & Population Control

    Google-Stalking The Ex

    Sound Of Music Death Match!!! Liesl v Maria

    Esperanto Rhymes With Tonto

    Valentine’s Day Shame

    World Of Warcraft…Dating?

    Bachelors In History

    Bachelor Profiles: Mad King Ludwig

    Will Your Siblings Use Up The Good Names?

    Kitten Of Evil

    Celebrity Crushes: The Girl Next Door

    Which Is Your Type? A Pseudo-Cosmo Quiz

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    How NOT To Decorate The Bachelor Pad

    Art waiting to be hung

    Art waiting to be hung

    by Jonathan Bonnaroo Perry

    Even though I moved into my new house about 8 months ago, I still haven’t put up most of my wall art because I’m not fully settled with the furniture placement and want to trade out some stuff, like the couches.  I may not move things around for a bit, but I might put in some built-in bookcases soon and this could affect organization of wall art.  Also, I was originally thinking I’d go with a slight Asian decoration theme (kind of ‘Asian meets French Country in the Suburbs’ aka ‘Bachelor Needs Designer‘), but my art is largely comprised of Egyptian papyrus paintings, so I’m a little perplexed.  I don’t want to be too scattered.  Fortunately, the house has much more space than the micro-apartment and I can spread out the mess so things don‘t look as junky.

    (17 Types of Bachelor Pads)

    In the old apartment, I maintained some essential articles of furniture so that I could, if necessary, sit down.  Upon getting my own Hobbit hole after college, I brought from my dorm room a ratty old grey stuffed chair (I gutted it last year for the coins inside.  It turns out the color was originally blue.).  I found some more shabby items at used furniture stores and answered newspaper ads for an enormous gold couch and 1970s end tables.  Since then, I’ve been upgrading, gradually dumping the crappy items for slightly less-crappy WalMart and Shopko furniture (the furniture styles in my house now average early 1990s).  In the small apartment I had several full bookcases that filled up the walls, then stacked in front of and next to those were a number of boxes and clear storage containers full of decades of hoarded items I’ll never use, but can’t throw away because of the nostalgia disease I inherited from my packrat ancestors.

    Early pic of old apartment.  Decoration not visible

    Early pic of old apartment. Decoration not visible

    Besides the basic furniture crapfest, I decorated the old place a little.  My decorating style started with a delicately balanced mix of framed art (in the living room) and tacked-up posters (in the bedroom and hallway) with some travel calendars placed here and there.  It might have worked if the posters were art nouveau in frames, but my posters were maps, castles and Hindu deities tacked, taped, or puttied to the walls (deities for decoration only, not worship).  There were also a couple small flags from the British Isles.  I rather liked the pastiche nature of it all, but interpret psychologically that I had one foot in one world, a world of mature adults with refined tastes who have framed art, while my other foot was sucked in the mud of another world, a world of childhood, casualness, and bachelordom.  As these worlds pulled me apart, I stretched into painful splits that put undue pressure on my netherlands.

    The new living room has naked walls

    The new living room has naked walls

    My framed art is primarily a collection of Egyptian papyrus paintings that I had mounted at great cost as I found myself conveniently unemployed out of college. They made my apartment living room a pseudo-Egyptian shrine to Ra.  I continued the Egyptian theme with that enormous gold couch (that housed guitars and a neo-Egyptian calico cat I fed), and topped it off with a good sized bust of Tut that doubles as a useful candle holder (the candle is behind the glass eyes, so the eyes of fire can be wickedly impressive).  I even have two hanging Chinese art scroll-painting-things that I brought back from Taiwan which are quite excellent and filled up entire wall sections in my short-ceilinged apartment.

    There are lots of other little statues and busts which helped give my place a demented old maid museumy touch.  In the ‘foyer’ I had a bust of Franz Schubert (with glasses) and a bust of one of the Richard Strausses to inspire me musically.  Then there’s the Beefeater bobblehead I brought back from England.  The miniature Scottish knight had his sword positioned in an attack stance above the head of one of the three mini-Buddhas my brother Chris gave me for Christmas a few years ago (one has achieved cage-dancing Buddha status).

    dsc002771

    This Chinese Scroll Painting is one of few pieces up

    Perched atop my bookcase, the gargoyles stared down judging my sloth and a brass-finished lion judged my weakness.  I’m not sure what the Mayan Chakmul judges or even how to spell Chakmul or if it‘s really Mayan and not Aztec or Incan, but apparently it’s Mexican because my brother Jay brought it back from Mexico (I think my History degree was just voided).  I also had a string of Chinese lantern lights on one bookshelf and a string of bubble lights on another bookshelf, next to which was my groovy lava lamp to remind me that hippies gave something pretty excellent, if useless, to the culture after all.

    At this point, despite all my collected junk, I didn’t go overboard and collect a roomful of miniature owls or cats to keep me company during the remainder of my dementia, but this step is a short trip.  I have actually known 2 older women who collected an incredible number of miniature owl figurines, which was impressive and kooky and a really strange coincidence.  What are the chances of knowing 2 unrelated older women at different ends of the country who fill large areas with different sizes and makes of owls?

    I think most of my nicknacks won’t make it out of storage into any normal part of the new house.  They’ll probably just stay wrapped delicately in their boxes, in a kind of nicknack limbo, next to the rest of the hoarded items I’ll never use.  Sweet nostalgia.

    The secret word is Davenport.

    Continue Reading:  Bachelor Step #1: THE BACHELOR PAD

    Related Reading:

    17 Types of Bachelor Pads

    Buying Useless Antique Furniture: Globe Wernicke Card Catalog Cabinet with Map Drawers

    My Bachelor Pad

    Bachelor Step #10: Collect the Right Toys

    Bachelor Step #1: THE BACHELOR PAD

    Mirror Gate In The Entryway

    Antique Stained-Glass Window For the Bachelor Pad

    Drilling Holes In My Wall For Mankind

    How NOT To Decorate The Bachelor Pad

    17 Types of Bachelor Pads

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    Pieces Of A Broken Heart/Music by M Ward

    m-ward-postwar-coverIf you haven’t heard M. Ward, now is your chance.  His voice sounds like an old timey recording on a slightly scratchy record that matches well with his mostly acoustic folk guitar.  Many of Ward’s songs could be described as happy wallowing music, meaning he sings a lot about heartbreak, but it’s a good heartbreak that feels comforting and warm.  And happy.  His album, Post-War, is great.  There have been a few other M. Ward albums, including one that just came out.  He’s also in the band She & Him with actress Zooey Deschanel.
    First, watch the excellent animated video to Chinese Translation. Don’t forget to catch the second song, Magic Trick, streamed below the video. Happy wallowing (not that you wallow).


    Magic Trick

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    11 Steps To Becoming A Domesticated Bachelor-The Complete Guide

    astaire-smoking-jacketby Jonathan B. Perry

    Over the last few months I’ve enumerated how to become a Domesticated Bachelor (even though I’m not one).  In trying to improve myself, I’ve discovered some key things that might help me to be a better man or at least quantify my failure.  The following links explore these steps to becoming a Domesticated Bachelor.  I’ve made this handy guide and gathered them together in one master list for your convenience, joy, and mockery.  Click each link for deeper exploration.

    First, what is a Domesticated Bachelor? Here we define our boy, the Domesticated Bachelor, and give his fake Latin name.

    The Steps:
    1.  The Bachelor Pad-Obtain a nice abode to which you can invite people.  Maybe a woman-type person (not really a hermaphrodite, unless you really want to).

    2.  The Right Wardrobe-Wear non-tent-like clothes.  Lounge jackets.  Suits.  Wooden shoes.  Red dickies.  Dress well.  Look nice.

    3.  Shape Up Fatty-Don’t be fat or unhealty.  Be well groomed.  Increase your self-esteem.  Get a Slim Goodbody suit.  White-person afro is optional.

    4.  Learn To Cook-Make omelettes.  Feed yourself.  Feed others.  Don’t date your mom.

    5.  Travel The World-Travel the world for the obnoxious stories.  Impress people, you jerk.  Oh, maybe test travel with a ladyfriend (separate hotel rooms, of course).

    6.  Be A Jack-Of-All-Trades-Be decent at lots of stuff.  Become a contestant on Jeopardy!  Be a Smart Alec.

    7.  Master Something-Be really good at one thing.  Maybe get a Masters Degree.  Figure out where that apostrophe goes.  Then tell me.

    8. & 9.  Proper Socialization/Throw Parties-Avoid becoming a hermit like Ted Kaczynski.  It’s good to know people & meet them & entertain them.  Don’t kill them.  Bad goat.

    10.  Collect The Right Toys-Find the things that use up your time & decorate your place.  Buy huge electronics through Skymall.

    11.  Get A Good Job-The super job enables the life & the stuff & the self-worth.  The other stuff feeds from this.

    The secret word is dominion.

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