Suckers…

But first…
Dulltown, Europe: Today’s existential angst is centred around the idea of athletics.
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I’m not a great vacuumer… Hm, I don’t think that is a real word… My spell-checker certainly doesn’t like it – oh, but I see Google approves of it, so it must be alright…
I know some people ‘whizz the vac round’ or ‘hoover’ every day, but I’m not in that league at all. (I’ll bet William Henry Hoover was really pleased when his name became a household noun and verb back the early 20th c.) I wonder if these enthusiastic house-proud folk can actually see whether their floors need vacuuming? Ah, they can probably spot that the pile of the carpet isn’t lined up like neat furrows in a field as it should be… Me, I do my vacuuming when I can actually see bits of debris peppering the floor in the places I most frequent.
Did you know that the first air-based cleaners from Victorian times actually blew rather than sucked? Yes, some sort of machine (drawn by horses?) would turn up outside your house and jolly chaps would come bouncing in with big flexible pipes, open all the windows, and attempt to blow all your dust out into the street. (I’m not sure how these devises were powered.) I don’t think they worked very well, as you can imagine, but things greatly improved when they changed cleaning machines from blowing to sucking…
I’m not a great vacuumer…
I suppose the next step down from hoovering every day is having a fixed day of the week when you do it, a bit like having a religion; or if you are really slatternly (Can men be slatternly as well as women? I don’t see why not…) you might have a fixed day of the month. Me, I’m more of a ‘every couple of months, whether it needs it or not’ sort of chap.
I don’t like vacuuming, and I don’t like my vacuum cleaner. It’s a bastard!… Sorry dear reader, but it is! I suppose I should have bought a more expensive one…
Do you recall several years ago there was a craze for well-off people to buy very very expensive industrial strength vacuum cleaners? I seem to remember that they cost about £700, (possibly) What was that all about? Was it all a big scam? (Kirby)
Anyway mine is a cheap one, and it is a bastard! There, I’ve said it again. Here we are in the 21st c. and this thing won’t pick up any bits on the carpet that have decided to live close to the skirting-board, or are in the lee of a heavy piece of furniture. No matter how you wheel and bang the machine around the bastard thing refuses to show any interest in them; and no, I don’t bother bending down to pick them up by hand dear reader – they can stay there for ever for all I care!…
Yes, as you can imagine I do ‘eff and blind’ (E and B) a lot when I’m hoovering, especially in the bathroom which has smooth laminate flooring. Well… apart from it ignoring the fluff by the skirting boards as expected, it deliberately tricks me. Yes, really… It appears to devour the small rolling tumbleweeds of fluff in the middle of the floor, but really what it is doing is sneaking some of them underneath the body of thing and popping them out the back so that when you pull the cleaner back to get the buggers it blows them around the floor; you end up having to lift the cleaner up bodily and drop it on to them to catch ’em – it’s just not good enough!
Oh, and when you empty the brute a piece of coloured plastic tubing (left-hand thread) drops into the bin on top of the dust and has to be carefully screwed back in. Oh, and in the instructions for the bastard thing it warns that you must not pick the cleaner up by the handle – a second handle lower down must be used – the upper handle would of course break under the weight of the stupid thing…
I’m not really a great vacuumer…

About Dave Whatt

Grumpy old surrealist artist, musician, postcard maker, bluesman, theatre set designer, and debonair man-about-town. My favourite tools are the plectrum and the pencil...
This entry was posted in brain, design, existentialism, expletives, Grumpiness, history, humour, information, money, observations, surrealism, words and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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