Okay, so I have said before that I love Hoarders. It’s addictive as hell. In part it’s because I have some hoarding tendencies myself. I love to “upcycle” and “repurpose” things (and I love that doing that has a name now!), so it can be very difficult to throw things out. Further, lets just say I’m not a natural housekeeper. The place gets trashed pretty easily. And of course ADHD plays a role; when things get too messy or chaotic, it’s very difficult for me to find a “point of entry” to getting the house back in order. And when I start feeling like that, it’s time to put on Hoarders and chuck some stuff.
It’s funny, I actually learned to love getting rid of stuff when I got divorced from M. We had a three-bedroom house full of stuff. I reduced that enough to fit in the back of a Ford Aerostar with the seats taken out. Later, in Hollywood, we’d regularly prune our stuff down. Instead of having a garage sale or going to Goodwill, we’d just take a carload of stuff to Hollywood Boulevard, right there in front of the Kodak Theater, where the red carpet for the Oscars goes. Dump it on the sidewalk with a big sign saying “FREE! GRATIS!” and then sit back and watch people swarm over it.
Nothing motivates me to get my house back in order like Hoarders. Not only do I feel better about how bad it hasn’t gotten yet, but I get a fire lit under me to get cleaning. Plus, when I’m taking a break, there’s always plenty of entertaining drama. I have a drinking game in my head, despite the fact that I only watch Hoarders when it’s totally inappropriate to drink (like, at ten-thirty in the morning while the boy naps). So here it is, a drinking game suitable for Samuel Jackson Ale.
Every time a counselor or organizer says “Wow” and draws it way out. “Woooooowwwwww.”
Every time someone says “poop” or “feces”
If someone falls or trips in the hoard.
Every time they zoom in on insects, insect eggs or cobwebs.
Every time somebody cries and the camera zooms in on their face.
One for every family member with a health condition actively exacerbated by the hoard.
Every time somebody cries.
One for every functional kitchen appliance.
One for every adult child living at home.
If you see a Flat Cat. For this, you must also call it out: “Flat Cat!”
If there is a live wild animal in the hoard.
If there is a skull (once for every skull shown).
If the water or power have been turned off. Two drinks if it has been more than two years.
If the hoarder was raised by a hoarder. Two drinks if there are more than one hoarder in the house.
If somebody gags.
If the house looks normal from the outside.
If the hoarder sneaks things off the truck, out of the garbage or outright hides them.
If the hoarder refers to him or herself as a “collector” or “saver.” Two drinks if he or she thinks their collection is valuable.
If there is major structural damage from the hoard.
If the city is leveling fines on the hoarder. Two drinks if jail time is involved.
If there are adult diapers.
If there is a slate saying how many animals were removed from the home. Two drinks if it includes a separate body count.
If the hoard touches the ceiling.
FINISH YOUR DRINK:
If an adult child completely loses their shit.
If the “trigger” involves a miscarriage, dead baby, or child. (I can totally make that joke.)
If animal control shows up.
If child protective services are involved