Stag Nation

So in my previous post I eluded to death and the contents of my nightstand. This got me thinking about all the stuff we keep. Stuff we know we might maybe shouldn’t hold onto for posterity, and yet 15 years later, there it is, staring up at you from the bottom of a box you just pulled from your parents attic, or under your bed, or wherever you’re hiding the stuff about your past from the people in your present.

Interestingly enough, it’s been my experience that the really good stuff about people can be found in the boxes scrawled with “school” using Sharpee marker in the unmistakable male scratch.

I don’t care what anyone says about women keeping stuff, y’all men are so much worse. See, we keep everything. Romantic stuff, fun afternoon at the beach with our girlfriends stuff, first college schedule, pictures of everything and every one. Mostly we’re just holding onto lovely memories; stories for the winter of our lives. It’s a lot to sort through if you don’t know your way around, so it’s somewhat more difficult to find the “good stuff.” And of course, by “good” I mean incriminating.

But men! The stuff you keep seems to scream, “all I want in this life is to be in college again!” I get it. I do. Those were great times for all of us. But here’s the thing: You. Cannot. Live. There. Anymore. Your Stag-Nation citizenship was revoked when you left campus. You can’t just sit here reminiscing; hopelessly grappling for your glory days. Whether you’re 25, 35, or 45 you’ve got to face the facts. You’re officially accountable for your actions. Grow up. Move on.

Here are a few helpful hints for you Penis Owners who insist you cannot part with whatever it is that keeps you tied to the 22-year-old version of yourself:

If you’re single and trying to stay that way, it is absolutely unnecessary for you to do anything except continue on your merry way and prepare to die alone. You may want to look into Alumni citizenship to Stag Nation. I believe you only have to produce proof of strip club membership and your "magazine" subscriptions. And though there is no need to continue reading, I would suggest a brief perusal of the last two paragraphs here for the sake of propriety.

If you’re single but trying not to be, hire a maid. No, not the kind in the black fishnet stockings, though I’m sure she’d do a lovely job on your pipes. I mean a real cleaning lady: the kind that will de-gross your bathroom and scrub the unidentified sticky stuff out of your refrigerator. Ask her to pack your athletic trophies in a box and mark it “Mom’s House.” Deliver it on your next laundry day.

You seriously still have a beer bong? I… I… I… yeah. There are no words unless they are “Return to Frat House” with no return address.

I promise you that, as long as you have a pulse and a need, the raunchy text message you elicited from your ex last weekend is not the last bit of sexting you’ll ever experience. Delete it. It will only get you in trouble. Go ahead. We’ll wait…

As for your gentlemen’s magazines: women who don’t know about them, don’t mind that you have them. Should you discover that your extensive collection puts off the woman in your life, you’ve a decision to make. If you’re not going to leave them out on the coffee table or in the bathroom magazine rack for all to admire, you should consider getting rid of them altogether, or moving them to your gym locker with your squash racket. The other option is so obvious I’m embarrassed to type it. *deep breath* Get rid of her.

Finally, take the time to make a list and, if necessary, a treasure map or diagram outlining where all of the embarrassing bits of your life are located in your house, apartment, office – wherever you keep these things. Give said list, associated graphic documentation, all necessary keys, and disposal instructions to a trusted friend… for just in case. You do not want grief-stricken Granny opening a closet door only to be taken out by precariously piled bawdy videos of you and your girlfriend. Is that the conversation you want overheard at your wake?

To everyone I say this: Just keep your stuff, whether it’s sentimental or you plan to “use” it at a later date, in one easy to retrieve albeit concealed place with access for immediate disposal, if required. This really is for your own good, and the good of any relationship you may have with someone besides yourself.