The return of the demented savage.

Living alone, without the civilizing influence of a proper lady, I am devolving to my native state: that of a savage.

I burp like Shrek and, you know, do the other thing even louder, practice leaving the toilet seat up, swear with impunity, wear ridiculous old sweatshirts, fail to get dressed for hours in the morning, chew with my mouth open and, occasionally, have a beer at 3 in the afternoon!

I amuse myself so readily that I often laugh out loud for no apparent reason. I sing loud nonsense songs about big bums and, well, other large body parts. I listen to loud rock & Roll music and play air guitar like a mad man.

My treadmill is right in the middle of my family room and parts from remote-controlled cars cover the kitchen table. There are tools and paint brushes drying everywhere.

I think I may eat several hot dogs for breakfast and not brush my teeth at all today.