Everyone needs a place to go. People need a place of solitude where they can relax, where they can do as they wish with the few ounces of free time life affords. The park, the beach, the mall, the craft room, the garden. Men usually find bars because in the bar they can typically find one person who’s a bigger loser than they are.
I need to talk to you about your stuff. Where is it? I bet you don’t know. I bet you know where your lame stuff is, your clothes, toilet articles, shovels and rakes and that liquid that’s supposed to help you re-grow your hair. But I bet you don’t know where any of your good stuff is, like your old vinyl, those pictures of your high school girlfriend, the silver dollars your grandpa gave you, that pile of vintage Sports Illustrateds or that Davy Crockett coonskin cap you had when you were seven. You need to find a better place for your stuff, man.