Goddamn Blogger finally got wise to me and switched me over to the new layout/scheme.
I hate it.
Anyway, yeah, so who here wants to eat off the floor?
It is so sparkling clean that we totally can.
Totally.
We are renting a house.
The owners decided that a house that had been owned/occupied by an ill elderly lady for YEARS, until her passing, and then left empty for another year didn't need to be cleaned.
At all.
Before we moved in.
I never actually saw the place before we paid for it. My father in law took a gander and knew that the size of the house, and the fact they would accept dogs, was enough to make it work.
And we were damn lucky to find a place that would allow two big, stinkers. And the dogs, too... nyuck nyuck. (I searched for months and months trying to find a rental house that would accept dogs, and all but one other owner said no. So we had no real choice. The yard is great for the dogs, and we need the space in a house, but DAY-UM).
But I knew my feet felt icky on the floor.
I busted out the Swiffer wetjet, bought new solution, and swiped an area of floor downstairs about 2 feet wide by about 8 feet long.
All I could think of was:
"Holy hell this place is so disgusting, I can't live here even temporarily, dear lord I feel dirty and this place is creepy and there are spiders and ewwww and it's so nasty, and I hate cleaning and ahhhhhhhhh"
along with:
"I have to take a photo and blog this shit".
So, there ya have it.
My mouth is watering already. Pull up a cushion and a fork, we're having mud-spider carcass for dinnah!
Now, to take nice, long, hot bath.
You know, after I spend an hour scrubbing the SHIT out of it with bleach...
_________
Pin It Now!
I hate it.
Anyway, yeah, so who here wants to eat off the floor?
It is so sparkling clean that we totally can.
Totally.
We are renting a house.
The owners decided that a house that had been owned/occupied by an ill elderly lady for YEARS, until her passing, and then left empty for another year didn't need to be cleaned.
At all.
Before we moved in.
I never actually saw the place before we paid for it. My father in law took a gander and knew that the size of the house, and the fact they would accept dogs, was enough to make it work.
And we were damn lucky to find a place that would allow two big, stinkers. And the dogs, too... nyuck nyuck. (I searched for months and months trying to find a rental house that would accept dogs, and all but one other owner said no. So we had no real choice. The yard is great for the dogs, and we need the space in a house, but DAY-UM).
But I knew my feet felt icky on the floor.
I busted out the Swiffer wetjet, bought new solution, and swiped an area of floor downstairs about 2 feet wide by about 8 feet long.
 |
| I think swiffer pads now come in an assortment of colours. I unknowingly picked out "filth". |
All I could think of was:
"Holy hell this place is so disgusting, I can't live here even temporarily, dear lord I feel dirty and this place is creepy and there are spiders and ewwww and it's so nasty, and I hate cleaning and ahhhhhhhhh"
along with:
"I have to take a photo and blog this shit".
So, there ya have it.
My mouth is watering already. Pull up a cushion and a fork, we're having mud-spider carcass for dinnah!
Now, to take nice, long, hot bath.
You know, after I spend an hour scrubbing the SHIT out of it with bleach...
_________