“Hurry up lemmings! You’re almost to the ocean!”
Over the weekend of May 5, 2013, my German wife was at an overnight bachelorette party with her friends in Braunschweig, Germany. I had the apartment all to myself, so I did what any self-respecting American male would do when his wife is out of town; I stripped down to my undies, watched porn, ate beans straight out of the can and drank a fifth of vodka.
The next morning, as I emerged from my coma of bachelorhood with nervous bowels and a headache, I left the apartment to go do whatever chores my wife had asked me to do before she left. I had no idea what those chores were because I wasn’t listening, but the point is I was in no mood to find myself in the middle of the goddamn 2013 Hannover TUI Marathon.
What follows is a video of this marathon, which I recorded with shaking hands and thinly veiled contempt.
I retreated from these strangely tribal sounds and dragged myself home. My wife was due to return from Braunschweig very soon, and she likes to keep our apartment nice. Now, remember, for the past 24 hours I’d had the apartment all to myself, so you can imagine how thoroughly its state of order devolved from “Euro Chic” to “Hurricane Pig Grenade.”
Check out these pictures I took 5 minutes before my wife walked through the door, when I was scrambling to clean up everything like a tornado made of panic and teardrops.*
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- Welcome to the Stink Nest, where the bed goes unmade, the sheets are unclean and the window stays closed in order to contain every last wisp of my toot-vapor.
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- This was breakfast, lunch and dinner, baby. Only thing missing were the kidney beans I ate right out of the can with a wooden spoon.
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- Orange juice, industrial-strength drain cleaner, a broken bike tire pump and a NEW bike tire pump. Shit got DONE that weekend, dammit (no matter what my wife tells you).
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- This was my Undies-Only Entertainment Chamber. Obviously a huge mess, but so what? It’s not like I was expecting company. The only person I needed to impress was me, and I say it was AWESOME.
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- This is how a MAN goes on a shopping spree: he heads to the nearest drugstore, finds the shaving aisle, buys the shit he needs and goes home to fiddle his nightstick. Mission accomplished.
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- I overcooked the sweet holy hell out of some pasta, used half of it, then let the rest dry to a crisp in the strainer because I wasn’t sure if I would want to eat it later. (I didn’t.)
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- In Bachelortown, we do not touch our dirty dishes until mere seconds before our wives come home. Also, that red thing in the pot is an idiot-proof egg timer, which failed to prevent me from overboiling my eggs so hard they tasted like Zeus’s balls.
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- If a tree falls in a forest and no one is around to hear it, does it make a sound? And if a stove is left so filthy it is considered a biohazard in 49 out of 50 countries, but no one shows up in a hazMat suit to put it in quarantine, can it still boil water? Yes. The answer is yes.
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- I thought I was being a good husband when I made a pan of stir-fry for my wife to enjoy upon her return. I just didn’t have the energy to put it into smaller containers. Whatever. That sumbitch fit in the fridge just fine after a little pushing, shoving and plastic cracking.
* What has two thumbs and is totally up for the Husband of the Year Award? THIS guy.
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