Clairesoula went home for some baby type shower or something this weekend. Which meant 120% pure bachelorhood bliss for the ol� LitteLloyd. In theory.

Clairesoula did not leave until 3PM on Saturday. Which meant precious few hours of pure bachelorhood bliss. So I made the best of it.

Um, I raked the lawn.

Yeah. I don�t know what the hell happened. I just got this itch that could not be scratched until the entire lawn (save the godforsaken-backyard) had been raked. Then I spread grass seed by hand. It was oddly cathartic. I felt like Lloydie Grass-seed. It is really rather beautiful the way that small seeds like that float down to the black earth when you toss and scatter them hither and yon.

BUT! Not to be 80% lame in my pure bachelorhood bliss, I looked up what was playing at the cheap theater and figured I would entertain myself and go see something on my own.

KUNG-FU HUSTLE! Was playing! I mean hells yeah! Of course I called my bro, BigJohn, because he is my partner in all things kicking and Kung-Fu� on the screen of course.

So we mosied on over there, only to find out that every one else in the extended metro area had read something or other in one of the crappy newspapers that day about the Ginormous Film Festival that was going on, and how anyone worth having teeth below their eyeballs should go see KUNG-FU HUSTLE.

Jerks.

So, BigJohn and I went to a coffee shop to do some good brotherly catching up.

Of course, the coffee shop was sold out. Yes, �sold out�. Apparently they had some artist who would only play on Saturday and they could not pass it up. So since The Flaming Kittens of Norway (I made that name up. Don�t get pissed that you missed the Flamens, and don�t steal that idea either. It�s mine) were about to go �onstage� we were summarily rejected from our second point of arrival and my weekend of pure bachelorhood bliss was rapidly turning into my evening of pure bachelorhood bliss to my hours of driving around and being laughed and pointed at because of my cluelessness.

Luckily that is a majority of how I have a good time. So we went to the coffee shop right by my house and had a coffee, and an extended flirtatious conversation with Barista That I Am In Love With #14.
Total miles driven: 3 Berzillion.
Net distance traveled: 1.5 blocks.
In the spirit of what I had intended the evening to be, I went and rented Shaolin Soccer. And stayed up hours past my bedtime drinking beer and eating microwave popcorn.

Oh it was wild and crazy.

Then with the few hours of Pure Bachelorhood Bliss remaining on Sunday�.

Guess..

No, really guess�.

Nope, I installed gutters. That�s right. Those things that catch water and miraculously bring the water from the roofline to the ground, without which it�s a miracle the water ever makes it to the ground. AND, now this is no small feat for mankind, I ventured into The Backyard of Despair. I pickup up loads of things, and as our fence is on the national register of tragedies, I figured I would burn a bunch of the �firewood� that is piled up there. Now by �firewood� I mean, really pithy, rotten, crappy wood that my brother at one point thought he would do some projects with.

So I got out my splitting ax and went to town on it. I must say that splitting wood right there in the city feels oddly scandalous. No fewer than 15 stray house pets were injured though. I swear.

Then to cap off the not quite a full 30 hours of Pure Bachelorhood Bliss, I burned the shit out of a ton of things. There were flames and sparks bouncing off the neighbor�s brand new, just parked her car for the first time last month, garage.

Good times, good times.

So my buddy came over, and we grilled, and drank and burned more flotsam from The Backyard of Despair. We burned and drank and chatted until Clairesoula returned.

She was a little surprised that I could have used every sigle pot, pan, and eating utinsile in the span that she was gone, and left the kitchen in various stages of biohazard, but she seemed glad to be home none the less.

Ahhhhh, womens, can�t something something.