It's true, some people are food hoarders but they tend to have freezers full of wheat germ or some shit that's just going to sit around forever and be odd in a bit of a roadside bearded lady sort of way but nothing to write home about. The ones you want to model yourself after are the ones with about five refrigerators chock full of food that went bad when Bush, Sr. was running the show. This is based entirely around rationale we can surely all get behind: If it isn't puffy yet, it's safe to put in your mouth.
Feasibility: I think I may have been unwittingly living this dream for a few months as I recently discovered after chewing some Five Alive that juice does, in fact, expire.
Results: Failure. Man, this is a blow to the ego. Eating expired food should be as easy as getting the cast of Jersey Shore to fail an IQ test. Despite this, when confronted with the single yogurt we've been inexplicably keeping at the back of the fridge since around Christmas '08, I find I do not have the testicular fortitude for any kind of follow through. It smells the way I imagine my corpse would smell if some one bludgeoned me to death with canned peaches and baby vomit.
Save Your Waste And/Or Hair
You may think burying the toilet in a slurry of well aged fecal matter is the be all and end all of human insanity, but that's not the case. Not when Mason and his wonderful jars are at hand. In the house of a boring hoarder, clean up crews throw out boxes of paperback books from the 1960s and old clock radios. The Ultimate Hoarder has a whole corner of the garage roped off to house labeled turd jars and bags of hair trimmings. In one episode, some dude even kept his dog's hair. His reason? Throwing it away would shorten the dog's life. Think about it.
Feasibility: Not being my grandmother or a madman, I don't own many mason jars, but I was given a really big box of knock-off Tupperware when I moved out on my own. They're dishwasher and microwave safe!
Burp it to seal in the freshness!
Results: Moderate Success. As the duration of this experiment didn't necessitate that I get a haircut, I was kind of already out on a limb with that aspect. To give it the old college try, I trimmed my sideburns into a Ziploc bag. It's on my dresser.
On the other end of the spectrum, the prospect of simply rolling out of bed and pissing into microwave bowls every morning, while appealing, is probably again going to raise the ire of my roommates. Plus, for reasons I can't explain, I'm intimidated by the idea of squatting over a small bowl and trying to poop in it. What if I miss? What if there's not enough room? What if I get a cramp and I stumble and the bowl actually gets lodged in my ass? I know for a fact that if I go to a hospital with a small microwaveable bowl jammed in my ass and say I slipped and fell on it, not a goddamn person will believe it.
I just can't commit to it. I'm weak.
Check out Robert Evans' A Brief History of Vice: How Bad Behavior Built Civilization, a celebration of the brave, drunken pioneers who built our civilization one seemingly bad decision at a time.