The Compostual Existentialist

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Stoppit & Tidyup

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I “man clean” apparently. “Man Cleaning” is where you wipe around objects on a surface rather than lifting the object and wiping the surface underneath. My theory is that as the object hasn’t been moved since the last time I wiped the surface the underside remains clean.

I “man clean”. I apply this technique to vacuuming too allegedly as well as dusting. Indeed, such may be the case but I believe if you can see the dirt, it is dirty. If the dirt is obscured say, by a couch, a rug or a table then leave it be until such time as the object requires movement or the dirt has started to coalesce into some multicellular organism akin Quatermass II. Such a technique allows for more time spent cleaning other areas and ample “after cleaning” time, usually spent writing bollocks on LJ or some such.

When I awoke this morning my first task was to tidy the house. I picked things up off the floor, disposed of waste, placed things back into cupboards, filled the dishwasher and wiped the surfaces (using the “man clean” technique). The vacuuming will wait until the morrow. I then dined on weetabix.

Milk. It’s a funny thing. As usual, bottles containing the white liquid are delivered to my door by Mr Inman (Terrance? Tom? either way his float is emblazoned with T Inman, which never ceases to raise a smile. Except then maybe) every morning. As usual when preparing my breakfast I thoughtfully leave the milk out for Mrs Gnomepants for her cereal who then decides to have toast or fruit and the milk remains out of the fridge until noticed. Of course in this weather, warm, muggy and frequent atmospheric pressure changes, milk tends turn. So as usual, when I am having my breakfast the following morning, I end up having bad milk on my weetabix. Not a pleasant taste really.

But then what do I know? I “man clean”.

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Author: stegzy

Once, long ago, I wrote frequently on Livejournal. I then moved to Blogspot, where I discovered that blogging requires an audience. So I moved back to LJ. Then over to Dreamwidth, back to LJ, up the road of self hosting with Muckybadger before giving up entirely and moving over to Wordpress. It was at that moment I decided I would spread my compostual nonsense simultaneously across the blogosphere like some rancid margarine. And so here I am. I am a badger. But then I'm not really a badger. I am a human. With badger like tendencies. I am a writer, a film producer and a social commentator. I am available for Breakfast TV shows, documentaries and chats in the pub with journalists.

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