On drinking alone on a beautiful Sunday.

I stayed in today, all day, thinking I would review some CDs and books for ReadJunk, as well as clean the apartment thoroughly, because I'm a firm believer that a cluttered home means a cluttered life. Unfortunately, my apartment is always non-clean (I don't want to say "unclean" - sounds too religious) and extremely, hopelessly cluttered.

After a half-hearted effort in putting three dozen unread magazines (Game Informer, EGM, Wine Spectator, Bon Appetit) into a singular pile, I decided the best way to clear up some surface space was to get all these bottles off my living room floor. These annoying bottles are/were filled with rum of varying quality.

I am extremely drunk now, not even 2 pm. I'm drunk enough to speak freely, but still have my wherewithal to type and be able to spell "wherewithal" without having to retype it more than five times.

So here are my big thoughts about being drunk on a beautiful Sunday afternoon, alone in my apartment and figuring out what to do with my day/life:

1. Will Ferrell is actually a good actor - and even quite endearing - but only when he plays the straight man, such as in "Stranger Than Fiction" or to a lesser degree "Melinda and Melinda". If you decide to watch Stranger Than Fiction - and you should - watch it drunk.

2. Nothing infuriates me more than on the rare occasion that I can't get my butt my clean, no matter how much I wipe. I don't mean this to be scatalogically edgy or infantiley funny. Sometimes, it seems like my butt will always have poop in it. It sounds silly, but the frustration is as real and serious as a heart attack. After some deep-butt excavation, I'm wondering if maybe certain areas of my butt are very hairy, harboring fecal matter in hard-t0-reach places, not unlike Osama bin Laden in Pakistani mountain crevices. And after smashing my fist down on my bathroom sink and swearing at the gods, it occurred to me - what if I'm just totally OCD in my butt cleanliness and other people don't care as much? Maybe due to some weird childhood trauma, I believe the norm is to have a completely white toilet paper swath, while other people just give up once blood appears. If you could leave a comment on the matter, I'd greatly appreciate it. You can leave a comment anonymously, you know.

3. After that last outburst, I really want to drink some more and forget I wrote that. I'll add more Deep Thoughts later, unless I sober up.