Friday, June 26, 2009

Bachelor Pad Maintenance

*from the very disorganized archives*

Across America, millions of homes will see what I'm told is a normal ritual of weekly, even daily routine: housekeeping.
I suspect that this is an unsubstantiated rumor, and one that this bachelor finds to be amusingly futile.
Not that I'm a total slob, mind you. I just wouldn't compare favorably to Martha Stewart. I rate somewhere between The Odd Couple's Oscar Madison, and a wall-etching cave dweller.
Which I guess makes me a slob to some of you.
Now, I'll grant that there are a few items of housekeeping that tend to make some degree of sense to me. And I'll get around to adopting them as something of a habit, one of these days. But by and large, I only resort to limited efforts in the department of housekeeping when it's a matter of sitting on something that I don't want to squish in or slide off of, someone coming to visit and I have a least a week's warning, and/or self-defense.
Examples of housekeeping that I don't see the need for? Let's start with windows. Except on my computer, I don't do 'em. I reckon that if stained glass is okay for a church, then by gawd it's okay for me. I don't buy this 'separation of church and state' crap, since I see churches all over my state, and the ACLU ain't run 'em out yet.
Next, dusting. What a totally wasted exercise in futility. Some folks, or so the rumor goes, dust daily. Why? Like liberal illogic, taxes, Girl Scout cookies and another episode of American Idol, dust always comes back. Which is great as it regards Girl Scout cookies, but not the rest.
Why disturb dust? Dust is primal. Dust is eternal. And dust outnumbers us on the factor of 100 terra-giga-gazillions to 1. You start pissing off dust with such numeric superiority as that, and it might decide to overwhelm the senses, faster than a Rosie O'Donnell circus tent bikini calendar.
And that is NOT something to be taken lightly.
Though, I have been known to risk the wrath of a very primal substance, when my pet rock Seymour thinks that the newscaster on TV is a creature from The Outer Limits, and a quick swipe with a damp rag returns the infobabe to visibly human form. Seymour freaks out easily.
Kitchen cleaning? You already know of my culinary barbarianism that takes place therein. I reckon a quick fire-hosing once in a while, and I am embolden to take another swipe at my speed dialer for pizza delivery. Once in a while I am forced to have to remove leftovers dating to the previous century from my 'frig; Seymour is convinced they are morphing within strained Tupperware, into things that Stephen King writes about. When you come home from work, and your pet rock is cowering in the corner, holding your golf putter and gesturing fearfully at the 'frig, you best pay some degree of attention to it. I usually throw another 12 pack of beer into the 'frig, chain it closed, and wait 'til 'IT' is drunk enough to bag up and throw away.
And the bathroom...just give me a Lysol grenade every so often, and I reckon the place is as useable as an outhouse in rural Darfur.
I think you get the point that I am not big on housekeeping.
Still, even a life-long bachelor like moi has moments of delusion, thinking he'll meet someone who'll bring his status as a bachelor to an end. Then again, I keep waiting for AlGore to say something intelligent.
But in the event that the former does occur before the advent of the Apocalypse, I put together a handy 11 point guideline for bachelor pad maintenance, and it's one I've occasionally fallen back on ('cuz I mistook an unstable pile for the chair):
1. If it crawls, give it something to put away (or at least out of the way) and point it in the right direction. Hope that it has a sense of one (direction).
2. Food leftovers: put 'em in Tupperware sealed with metal rivets, and bury it in the deepest recesses of the refrigerator. Dispose of it either by (a) consumption, (b) subterfuge (see the beer gambit, above) or (c) see upcoming #8.
3. If it talks, answer it. If it isn't the phone or clock/radio, try to keep it talking long enough to find and kill it, before it attacks you. If it's Tupperware-adorned, get stronger rivets or a heavier gauge chain for the 'frig.
4. Vacuuming the carpet does wonders for being able to walk barefoot; but it also removes a great security feature, since you can hear your Tupperware crunching across the carpet, trying to sneak up on you. You gotta weigh the pros and cons on this 'un, and I'm just sayin'...
5. If you find something clean draped across the chair, back out of the place slowly and figure out whose place you entered by mistake.
6. If you can smell it, and it isn't tolerable, spray it with Lysol, unless (a) doing so will make it mad or (b) you live in Califorlornia, where PETF (People for the Ethical Treatment of Fungi) might protest. Even fungi and poo have rights in CA.
7. Let sleeping dust lie. If you inadvertently sneeze, and room visibility drops to zero, think about in which direction you last saw the exit door, and move toward it. While you still can.
8. Too busy/intimidated to clean or figure out what you can legally spray? Hire a maid.
9. If she's cute and willing, the cleaning can wait, but suggest going to her place, so your X-Files Tupperware doesn't get to her before you can.
10. Looking for ways to avoid visitors and holiday houseguests? Skip #8.
11. Move frequently. Once a month is about right in my case. Don't leave behind a change of address, so the morphing Tupperware can't track you.


Blogger Jack K. said...

Now there's a plan. snerx.

26 June, 2009 05:38  
Blogger Mayden' s Voyage said...

Some quick thoughts~

~You simply have to stop waiting on Algore (Limbaughism) to say something clever- the chances a woman will sweep you off your feet are infinitely more possible :)

~You and my teenagers are much alike! (groan!!!) (well, you and my son are alike, the Pixter is actually a bit of a neat freak- and she did not get it from me!)

~Stop using tupperware- and here's why: "THE GULIT FACTOR". I'll explain. Tupperware is expensive stuff, and when something is growing inside it we feel obligated to salvage the said tupperware because of our investment in it. The best alternative is throw away plastic (and resealable) chinese food containers. (NOT the paper boxes with the cute metal handles though- they should not be re-used). Rinse out your wanton soup container (Grunt if you must to aid you in the process) and save it for leftovers. When the leftovers turn green- no need for hardware to keep it contained, just throw it out :) (Although your method is a little more interesting :)

~when I was a kid cleaning the bathroom was a disgusting practice (it still is), but we had to use "cleaning rags" which always made me shudder...because nothing with that much filth should ever be recycled or put in the family washing machine- however, this is how it was done. Now we have "Lysol Cleanup Wipes"!!!! Yeahhh- salvation! Use them and throw them away! (note- only use them on hard surfaces, they are not for use on human flesh in ANY form. I say this for any teenagers who might think these would be an ok subsitute for a washcloth and soap...but I digress :(

~#5 LOL!

~ a vacuumed house is, actually, sexy

~I'm kind of with you on the dust thing until my asthma acts up- then I clean like a freak (which makes it worse for a little while)
and then wait for "the dust to settle". yeah- bad pun- <3

~I laughed out loud at the X-file tupperware thing going after the maid :) funny, funny, funny...but if she's worth her salt the Black Oil will be no match for her and the Dawn dishwasing detergent :)

26 June, 2009 07:26  
Blogger Herb said...

Ya got some good womanly advice, there. I'm lucky in one way to have daughter's who want to drive. hahahahaha

26 June, 2009 07:29  
Blogger Sandee said...

I like you very much, but I'm not coming over to your place. Just saying. You're going to have to visit me.

I don't want to see Rosie O'Donnell in a bikini ever, but I am waiting for Al Gore to say something intelligent. Bwahahahahaha.

Have a terrific day and weekend. :)

26 June, 2009 08:05  
Blogger Skunkfeathers said...

Mayden: actually, I use the poor man's Tupperware: emptied margarine containers. Which could explain how the morphing leftovers grow legs that easily penetrate the sides of the cheap plastic, and allow them to become mobile, wherein it's actually a benefit NOT to vacuum, so I can hear 'em skulking around. Though, you did say that vacuuming was sexy...might be worth the risk ;)

26 June, 2009 09:54  
Blogger Debbie said...

Well, I used to be a clean freak, but I'm coming around to your side on a few things. Dust does indeed come right back. I've learned to live with it a few days longer than when I was younger.

Hubby doesn't see it, so I don't worry about it. Don't get me wrong, I used to be one of those people keeping everything spotless every single day. What a chore.

Now I'm at the do what really needs to be done once a week routine.

Windows... We had new windows put in a few years back, the kind that open completely inside, so I can clean the inside and outside ... from the comfort of being inside. I do this periodically when I force myself.

Debbie Hamilton
Right Truth

26 June, 2009 12:40  
Blogger Seane-Anna said...

You use the poor man's Tupperware, too? It beats the real thing any day, if you ask me.

26 June, 2009 18:40  
Blogger The Dental Maven said...

Poor Seymour. Better watch out Skunk, or you're liable to have the PETR (People for the ethical treatment of Rocks) after you!!

27 June, 2009 06:17  
Blogger A Lawyer Mom's Musings said...

Hey, as long as you don't lose Seymour, I say slob away. Having a clean house is totally over-rated . . . by Mr. Clean, Clorox, 49, and . . . I was going to say Billy Mays. But better that I not, today.

28 June, 2009 22:16  

Post a Comment

Links to this post:

Create a Link

<< Home