Slob story
Boring administrative thing number one: Tomorrow night at 8 is the dressing up game. Join us in the chat. It’s fun. Honest.
Boring administrative thing number two: If you’ve got a MovableType blog and are fed up of getting comment spam, I’ve come up with a solution you may be interested in. You can find it here.
Speaking of the chatroom (What? Yes I was. In boring administrative thing number one, that’s where.) I was in there today (well, obviously) and the conversation turned to my general slobbishness. The general view seems to be that I should Do Something About It.
It was proposed that I get a cleaner, and I can’t say I’m not tempted. It would be nice for all my junk to magically put itself away while I’m at work, and it would be nice if my living room floor were topographically closer to Denmark than to the Andes. But on the other hand, I wouldn’t feel comfortable paying someone to clean my house for the same reason I don’t like the bag packers at Tesco, plus how could I be sure she* wouldn’t chuck away stuff of vital importance? What might look like a screwed up piece of paper with scribbles on to the uninitiated could well be the workings of a fiendishly clever puzzle, or a movie prop, or part of an elaborate experiment designed to study the behaviour of my cleaner.
And in typing that, I’ve had a rather fiendish idea. I’d like to think I have a fairly scientific mind, and a keen interest in the world around me, and if I ever own a pet I will surely conduct experiments to further my understanding of its mind. Of course the chance of me getting a pet is next to zero - I can’t look after myself, never mind some poor, innocent animal - but I might get a cleaner, who I could treat in much the same way B.F.Skinner treated pigeons. It would be marvellous fun, devising little experiments I could set up each week to expand mankind’s understanding of my cleaner’s brain.
For that reason alone, I think I’ll do it. My slobbery, then, will soon be a thing of the past. It’s a massive sacrifice, but I must be strong. I do it in the name of science.
*Yes, yes, or he. But I bet it’s a woman.
Comments
| Hooray for cleanerness! I don’t like to think of you living like a pig Comment by Miss Sixty — July 2, 2004 at 8:12 AM |
| Gah! I can’t believe you are caving in. Comment by el10t — July 2, 2004 at 8:39 AM |
| I expect it will take a whole crew of cleaners to make even the tiniest impression Comment by Lordhutton — July 2, 2004 at 9:37 AM |
| You will have to pay your cleaner extra I reckon… they tend to like a place that starts clean, for reasons that are obvious when you give it some thought. You would also have to give your cleaners (for there will be several) a significant induction talk, re: the potential merit of insignificant-seeming scraps of papaer. We used to employ domestic assistance and the number of times mum asked her NOT to wash the electronic organ with jif* and water… *actual cleaning product may vary. Comment by sweavo — July 2, 2004 at 10:14 AM |
| If I were your cleaner, I’d be certain to read your blog to find out about the experiments. Comment by Qov — July 2, 2004 at 2:32 PM |
| (Trouty here) |