Why only an undergrad? That's how I lived after I got divorced.
I know this 59-year-old hippie. He's divorced and he doesn't know how to cook or clean.
He has the spool and the dead plants.
Numerous veins of cobwebing high along the walls.
Refridgerator well stocked with beer, but scene marred by massive black trash bags leaking nearby.
And the ashtrays! I haven't seen so many cigarette butts jammed into plate sized ashtrays since I was in the Navy.
He's a good fellow though. He has a good heart. But the old lady and the ponytail are gone now and he doesn't have a clue as to what he's going to do. Says now that he wished he joined the military.
I silently agreed.