Clean

Ever since Emma left, I have been obsessed with cleaning.

Every day I clean the flat, every day.

I do it my way, obviously.

Its become a bit of a ritual; I put on my yellow rubber gloves, then I walk around the flat systematically spraying various cleaning detergents on every surface. That's it, simple as that! No rubbing, wiping, brushing. minimum effort required. Just the way I like it.

Thursdays I use mister muscle super shine, Fridays I do Vim, Saturdays I hit the Mold and Mildew remover, Sundays I spray holy water, Mondays I use some sort of window cleaning spray, Windolene I think it is called. Tuesdays however, have been a kind of problem so far cos I didn't have any more sprays so I used this stuff you get at ASDA for ironing shirts (you know which one I mean?), up until today! I have now laid my hands on a kinky little bottle of FLASH- tough on dirt! perfect after Mondays.

Don't think for a second that I am fully satisfied though.

I have much higher ambitions.

CILLIT BANG!

It is a bit expensive, I know. But one day I shall be a proud owner of a bottle of my own.

And my flat will SPARKLE!

anyway, what I really wanted to say was; cleaning can sometimes come with some negative consequences (at least if you use my method of frenetic and uncontrolled spraying across the flat), like today for instance; I sprayed some on my trousers and they are now as a result partially orange....

that was all.

clean in peace brothers and mothers!