The Bachelor Crisis

by blue midget

It has come to my attention that the bachelors of North America are facing a crisis. Just recently I was talking to a coworker in my office, who happens to be newly-bachelorized (PC for “divorced”) as well as a single parent. We were chatting about our weekends, as coworkers do, and the conversation migrated to a subject that strikes fear into the hearts of bachelors everywhere… (enter impending doom music here)…

DOMESTICS.

With some embarrassment, my coworker explained to me that eventually he’s going to have to figure out how to clean a bit more effectively around the house, and quite possibly even feed his daughter something other than McDonald’s. We laughed to ease the tension, but I felt badly for him. As this is a bit of my forte, I gave him a few great options that a budget-conscious, full-time working father could use. When the conversation was over he looked relieved and hungry for more information — and I hadn’t even given him some of my best stuff, either. Speaking with him reminded me of some of the bachelors I have encountered, and their sad, disgusting lifestyles. My coworker is not alone in his plight as a bachelor, and in fact, is much better off than most, for I have seen bachelor habits that would make the strongest disposition reach for a half-dozen barf bags. First, we must identify those bachelors who need help, and separate them from those who do not.

The bachelor sits alone in his room; it’s 2am. He hasn’t showered in two weeks, his hair crusty from oil and dirt and his clothes have a light, orange coating from Cheetos. His tightie-whities are attached to the elastic in only two places. The floor around the room is littered with clothes and plates of food, and there is barely any room to walk. His sink is piled high with dishes that have not been washed in a month and are cultivating exciting new breeds of mold he has nicknamed “Jerry” and “Frank.” Sitting on the bed, he watches reruns of The Newlyweds, wondering what Nick Lachey has that he doesn’t.

Right away, we must shed some light on this situation – it’s what you have, not what Nick has:

You have the strong smell of ass and you’re covered in Cheetos.

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