vacuum cleaner

Better Living Through Technology and Chemistry, and Disturbing Thoughts

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marlboromancomparisonNo one is more anti-smoking than an ex-smoker.

Even though back in the day I smoked the cowboy killers, (yes, I chain smoked the cowboy killers) today I find few of other people’s habits more annoying.  The exception to that would be Jerry’s uncanny ability to spot either puke or shit combined with his complete unwillingness to actually clean up said puke, shit or other noxious mess.

On one hand, since cigarettes are legal and the government makes money on them, people should be allowed to smoke up- anywhere and everywhere- should they so desire.  On the other, I am not a fan of having my airspace polluted by some jackwagon’s cig smoke.

electronic-cigarette_vs_regular-cigaretteI know it’s too complicated for Jerry.  But there may be hope for others.

The above illustration doesn’t mention the damned cellophanes, but then again most smokers don’t just toss the foil and cellophane on the floor to clog up the vacuum cleaner, either.  No matter how you scour the floor for cellophanes, there’s at least one that avoids detection and ends up clogging the vacuum cleaner, which begs one question and one statement.

1.  What’s the bloody point of having a vacuum cleaner if you have to pick up half the shit on the floor before you vacuum so it doesn’t clog the machine?

2. Jerry was raised by wolves, which is why there is unauthorized detritus on the floor that shouldn’t be there to begin with.  I should be grateful he knows how to wipe his ass.

hizzy

I think some of the really weird Victorian artwork actually is drug-inspired. I mean, this dude was even impaired in his fashion choices.  Elton John wouldn’t even wear this ensemble.  When alcohol, opium and God only knows what else were readily available in just about every patent medicine in existence, I’m sure there were plenty of guys who wore bad clothes and thought they were riding around on (stoned) giant white pigeons.

postmortem guess whos deadI’m thinking duct tape would have kept this poor dead kid’s head up for the pic.

I’m assuming the little girl in the very front of this pic is dead by the vacuous stare and the way her head is flopped over.  However, her mother is hanging on to her hair in a manner that would make an old-time Catholic mother proud.  The expression on the mother’s face seems to be one of those “You will sit still dammit,” expressions rather than a mournful pose.  Perhaps the two boys in the background were getting on her nerves, or maybe she was peeved because the dead one kept on flopping over.  Maybe she grabbed the dead kid by the hair just to keep her steady in one place.

I have to wonder how many child deaths buried in the overwhelmingly high infant mortality rate of the Victorian era were actually inflicted by the mothers?

It would be easy enough to cover up one’s crime.  Lots of kids died, and died suddenly from everything from typhoid to a good old fashioned case of the runs.  An autopsy of that time – should anyone insist one be conducted- probably wouldn’t reveal poisoning or suffocation.

arsenicJust put it in their drink.

emetic:

adjective

1.causing vomiting, as a medicinal substance.

noun
2.an emetic medicine or agent.

I can think of a lot of things that have emetic qualities:
OBAMA EGYPTObama.  Just thinking about him and his illegal squatting in the White House makes me want to puke.
plumber buttExposed hairy butt cracks.  Wrong on many levels, and tacky on either male or female.
throw_upI don’t throw up easily, which in this world is probably a good thing.

The Things We Do For “Health,” and the Scourge of Domestic Drudgery

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Tapeworms, tapeworms, jolly jolly tapeworms, eat them up- YUM!

The tapeworm diet was featured on an episode of 1000 Ways to Die not too long ago.  I know I probably shouldn’t watch that show so much, but it is entertaining in a dark way to see the convoluted manners in which some people have managed to earn their Darwin Awards. While the thought of going from a size 12 to a size 2 in a few weeks is tempting, the thought of flatworms burrowing through my vital organs and feeding on my blood and other important stuff gives me serious pause.  If we give dogs a monthly de-wormer (essentially this is what Heartgard and other products that contain Ivermectin do- kill off any worm larvae that end up in a dog’s bloodstream or intestinal tract) to prevent them from getting tapeworms, heartworms, and other assorted wormy life forms because they’re harmful to dogs, then it would stand to reason that it’s not healthy to harbor tapeworms in one’s innards.

It’s interesting to note that dogs are always susceptible to worms because of the rooting around and scavenging that they do in the course of their daily activity. There are even worms that are spread by fleas and other disgusting insect life, which is yet another reason to avoid insect infestations.  Dogs’ preoccupation with all things feces also predisposes them to exposure to all sorts of nasty things (sort of like little kids.)  The difference with dogs is that they seem to have much hardier immune systems than humans- at least in regard to infectious disease- and digestive systems that can metabolize almost anything.

Lilo (and every other dog on the planet) might consider cat poop to be the highest of rare delicacies, but she won’t eat lettuce.  Unless it’s soaked in Ranch dressing, that is.

I wonder if the health “benefit” one would gain by losing weight on the tapeworm diet would be negated by the effect of the tapeworms munching on stuff they shouldn’t be munching on.  It’s one thing if they’re sharing that chili dog you had for lunch, but quite another if they are making a meal out of your liver, or your brain.  I guess the bottom line on weight loss by parasite is that it’s probably ill advised.

As far as burning up calories the old fashioned way, a rousing round of housecleaning can do that.  Even though it can count as exercise, I hate cleaning.  I consider exercise to be a necessary evil also. I don’t like it, but I also don’t like the prospect of my ass being as big as the front end of my car.  I don’t want to be the one trolling through the Newark WalMart in search of size 20 underwear.

These could also be a car cover for my Yaris.  Just sayin’.

The problem with cleaning, in my house, is that it is an ongoing effort in futility.  Jerry can destroy hours’ worth of scrubbing and cleaning in one drunk-n-stupid episode, as was evidenced last night.  All he has to do is get good and besnookered, go out to “water the garden” at dusk, and then traipse back on in the house, flopping about, soaking wet with dog shit caked on his shoes.

Let me fling poo on your linoleum!  YAY!!

Yes!  My purpose in life has been fulfilled- scraping dog shit off of the linoleum in the foyer, and then in the kitchen (thank God I got to him before he made it to the carpet, which I had also just scrubbed and cleaned Saturday) and then getting to (joy and rapture) scrape the dog shit off his old-man velcro shoes and hose them down.  Then I got to peel his wet and dirty clothes off the bathroom floor, and had to clean the floor up too.  Never mind that I had scrubbed down and mopped the foyer, the kitchen and the bathroom on Saturday.  Apparently I needed to do it again.

I would hire cleaning people.  If I could afford them- and if I wouldn’t be embarrassed at what they might encounter.

I have found beer cans in places where beer cans should never go.  Beer cans next to the toilet (why not just eliminate the middle man and pour the Natties right on down the john?)  Beer cans in his underwear drawer.  Once I even found a beer can in the litter box, which is making me wonder if Jerry is going down there (the cat boxes are in the basement) and helping the dogs sample the recycled feline buffet.  If it were only beer cans, it wouldn’t be so bad, but Jerry’s filth parade goes far beyond beer cans.

Jerry is also an incorrigible smoker.  If he removes a cellophane from a cig pack, it ends up where it lands- on the table, on the floor, in a house with a mouse- wherever, as long as it’s not in the trash.  The cellophanes are just the tip of the iceberg, not to mention the bane of all vacuum cleaners, especially when encountered in combination with copious amounts of dog hair.   Jerry also has essential tremor, so the world is his ashtray, literally.  That’s part of the reason why it pisses me off so much when he smokes in my car.  I don’t think he can actually make the ashes land in the ashtray, (in the car or at home) and I’m doing good when he actually puts the butts out in the ashtray instead of (acck, acck, acck) the toilet (bad enough) or in the sink.  Removing nicotine stains from porcelain is just so much fun.  I need just such a hobby.

It’s just depressing to spend an entire Saturday cleaning and the place is trashed again by Monday night.

Some more enlightened souls may ask, “Doesn’t Jerry do his share of the cleaning?” I know that there are some men who understand the importance of helping with errands, cleaning and stuff like that when their wives also work.  However, the fact that I don’t have 24/7 to fetch stuff for, clean up after, and cook for His Nibs does not register with Jerry.   Not at all.  He was raised by wolves.  He willingly wallows in squalor as long as it means he doesn’t have to think about where the beer cans, cig pack cellophanes, or dog shit lands.

So forgive me if I’m no Martha Stewart.

I can cook, but you can leave the decorating and cleaning to people who don’t live with Jerry.

Sins of Omission, Synchronicity, and There’s No Escaping Murphy’s Law

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I am sure the tome from the 1950’s advertised above has long been out of print, but I bet it’s most informative.  I can only imagine how quaint and tame the descriptions of sex acts in this book might sound when compared to some of the crazy things people do today.  I am sure this book does not contain terms such as, “dominatrix,” “golden shower,” “dirty Sanchez,” or “fisting.”   It may come as news to some, but there was actually sex before the 1960’s.   It was just kept behind closed doors, for the same reason most people keep the vacuum cleaner in the closet.  You know someone vacuums the floors from time to time, but you don’t necessarily want to keep the vacuum cleaner on display. 

In my case, the vacuum cleaner has been in the closet a very long time, but that’s my problem.  Involuntary celibacy is not for the faint of heart.  It is for the troll-like of body, and too soft of heart, however.

Speaking of vacuum cleaners, sometimes that’s the only thing in my life that doesn’t suck…which sucks because the vacuum cleaner is the one thing that’s supposed to suck.  No matter what I do (and I am sure that having three cats, three large dogs, and an incessant smoker doesn’t help here,) keeping the damned thing unclogged takes more time than the actual act of vacuuming.   I would like to pose a challenge to any vacuum cleaner manufacturer.  If you can provide me a vacuum cleaner (that I don’t  have to unclog, replace the belt, or completely rework every three minutes of use) that will actually suck up dog hair and the various other detritus- especially those damned cigarette pack cellophanes that Jerry trails behind him- that ends up on my floors, then you will actually have a decent product that is that is worth the $100-$500 one has to pay for it.  So far I have not been able to find any vacuum cleaner from any price range, manufacturer or design that I deem to be effective.  Let me do your product testing! 

I highly doubt that any vacuum cleaner manufacturer would be able to build a vacuum cleaner that would work for any length of time in my house.  There are just too many opportunities for Murphy’s Law to manifest itself.  First of all there’s the dog hair, most notably Sheena hair.  Sheena is a Husky/GSD crossbreed- with the horrific perennially shedding thick double coat found in both of those breeds.  To make it worse, Sheena’s hair is predominately white, so it doesn’t blend in.  So at any given time, save for right after I’ve vacuumed, you will find tufts of white fluff pretty much everywhere.  The house has been Sheenatized. Lilo also has a dense double coat, but the bulk of her shedding is in spring and fall (or the Central Ohio seasons of Monsoon and Fall Monsoon) so hers isn’t usually as bad.  Clara is the lightest shedder, with the sparser Malinois coat- but during the twice a year blowouts even she can drop some serious hair.

Dog hair is lethal enough to vacuum cleaners, but then you have Mr. Cig Pack Cellophane dropping those nasty bits of clear (and therefore almost impossible to see) plastic all over creation to clog up the works along with the hair.  One may pose the question, “Why doesn’t he throw them away in the trash can?,” to which I must reply, he was raised by wolves.  I am doing good for him to get a daily change of clothes and a  daily shower.  Beyond that, he pretty well leaves a trail of wrappers, cig butts, pop and/or beer cans, wherever he goes.  There is a laundry chute in the bathroom and the whitey-tighties still end up on the floor.  His mother did not train her POMC very well.  I hope I did better with mine.

My favorite Rube Goldberg machine is in the “Pee-Wee’s Big Adventure” movie- the machine that serves up Pee-Wee’s breakfast, including his smiley face pancake and Mr. T Cereal.

To me, the Rube Goldberg machine provides a wonderful illustration of logical progression- what led up to this and that and finally the final result.   It also is a wonderful illustration of what happens if a step in the progression fails.

For the want of a nail the shoe was lost.
For the want of a shoe the horse was lost.
For the want of a horse the rider was lost.
For the want of a rider the battle was lost.
For the want of a battle the kingdom was lost.
And all for the want of a horseshoe nail.
I remember these verses from an old book of children’s stories my Grandma had- all instructional tales with a moral to the story, similar to (and included some of) Aesop’s Fables.  Today when I think about these verses it makes me wonder how history would have been different had Operation Valkyrie succeeded, or even more dramatically, had the elaborate chain of events that led to WWI fallen apart somewhere. 
 
Yes, it may sound cheeky, but I wonder what my life had been like had I actually had the proper bait to go trolling for men.  🙂   
 
Then again one cannot forget the condition of synchronicity- all things working in parallel, or what I see to be the overwhelming tide of the will of God that makes the events of history plod onward and forward in ways we can neither control nor fully understand, no matter what  individual human effort is made to prevent or change them. 
 
Personally, I thought killing Hitler was a pretty freaking good idea- but as sadistic as it might sound, apparently there was a reason he lived as long as he did, and a reason why he wasn’t killed by the many assassination attempts against him.  I don’t understand why despots and sleazeballs are allowed to keep on truckin’ and those who really could be a benefit to society either die in what seems an untimely manner, or live out their days in impotent obscurity.  I can’t see the entire picture and I don’t pretend to.  But God is behind it all, whether we see things to be good or evil or incomprehensible.  One of the hardest things for me to do- being a rational type and all- is to stop trying to understand and just believe God has a purpose.
 
Far be it from me to claim to have more wisdom than Solomon, or to question the sovereignty of God like Job. 
 
It can be entertaining to play the history “what if” game- but ultimately there’s no escaping Murphy’s Law.  Humanity has been drowning in its grandiosity and hubris ever since the tower of Babel.  I can’t say Obama is the only human to get caught up in his own hubris, but he’s a good example of it.  I can only hope and pray that by the grace and mercy of God this blathering fool is booted out of the Oval Office- and that the American people have learned a lesson not only about the ways of petty tyrants, but of the folly of “sympathy voting.”  Isn’t it just as racist to vote FOR someone just because he’s black (or half-black) but clearly unqualified to hold the office as it is to vote AGAINST a qualified man simply because he’s white?

I don’t wish even someone as misguided as Obama eternity with Beezelbub, or even scathing, humiliating defeat,  but the way he’s going now it seems like scathing, humiliating defeat might just be what he wants.