As some of you may know, I’m quitting smoking. Last night, trying to keep myself busy to avoid craving a cigarette too badly, I was playing around with modeling clay to keep my hands busy. In just under 90 minutes, I sculpted Joe Camel, a bust of the Marlboro Man, and Catherine Zeta-Jones naked (smoking isn’t the only thing I think about you know). Obviously, I needed to do something else so I decided to clean my apartment.
I had always thought of my apartment as maybe needing a little tidying up, but basically clean. Then, with the sort of manic energy only an addict in withdrawal can muster, I started cleaning my apartment. It was disgusting! I found a spoon in the cat litter box. I have no idea how that happened. I hope I didn’t get drunk one night and confuse the litter box for a huge bowl of Grape Nuts. There was a small, squishy black lump in a plastic bag in the little drawer at the bottom of my fridge, which I can only assume used to be a head of lettuce.
You know Koko, the gorilla that can do sign language? I made a life-sized model of her using the hair from the shower drain. I left it in the bathroom and it scared the hell out of me when I went to take a piss at 3am. There’s a word of advice for everyone: If you build a gorilla from shower drain hair, remember where you left it. I would put it in the hall closet, but I just know I’ll forget about it in there and when winter comes, I’ll reach into the closet to get a coat and die of a heart attack when I see a lowland gorilla in my hall closet wearing my old letterman jacket. And sadly, the rug around the toilet vanished when I mopped the floor. This explains why I don’t remember ever buying a rug for around the toilet.
And for everyone’s sake, I think I should not mention what happened in the extra bedroom. But rest assured, my therapist will be hearing about it for weeks to come.
So you think I can get any money for a gorilla made from shower drain hair? I’d hate for all that work to be for nothing. Wonder what I can get for it on E-Bay . . .
And I miss the “rug” on the bathroom floor. I’m thinking of buying a bunch of Chia pets and growing that stuff on the floor in place of a rug. I’ll have all this grass-like stuff on the floor and then it’ll be like peeing outdoors every day. Not very practical, I admit, but it’d sure be an ice breaker at parties.
That actually happened. I honestly, swear-to-the-IPU found a spoon in the cat litter box. I never thought that maybe Patches was trying to clean it himself. I sat on the floor for about 10 minutes, just staring at it wondering how the hell it got there. The rotted lettuce was an exaggeration, but it wasn’t looking (or smelling) good at all.
But Sea Sloth then I would have to explain how I built it out of shower drain hair. Once I admit to doing that, the only chance of getting lucky that night would be with the gorilla. The Chia grass on the floor is weird (to say the least) but not as sick as playing with the shower drain hair.
When I quit fifteen years ago, I bought a bunch of beads and made jewelry for everyone I could think of. I created a monster which is now a home-based business for me. I am still a disgusting slob. Every flat surface in my home is covered with jewelry-making supplies. Your gorilla would get lost around here…
Congrats on trying to quit man. I’m in the same process, it’s slow going and these patches just don’t have enough adhesive. I think after being the chain smoker that I was, I’m actually recharging them.
One thing I’ve found to keep my mind off of smoking is toothpicks. I go through about 12 boxes of toothpicks a month. Not nearly as expensive, but still, it’s my new addiction. Really cures the oral fixation I guess. I just sit there and bring them from hand to mouth and back again, and chew them into little bitty bits of toothpick. It’s helped calm the craving tho’.
I have just completed an exhaustive search and it appears that Martha Stewart has never done anything creative with shower drain hair or Chia pet grass. This is a market just waiting to be explored. Maybe I’ll get my own show, except instead of being all anal-retentive and uppity, it’ll be cool. It’ll be for all the lazy ass slobs out there.
Don’t know what that stain on the couch is and you’re too much of a lazy assface to clean it? I’ll show you how and what to spill on the couch next so your stains form a beautiful pattern, giving your furniture a truly one-of-a-kind look! And don’t throw those White Castle boxes away! Save them to use as stands for all the shower drain hair figurines you’ll have around the place. Decorate them with empty ketchup and mustard packets and hang them on strings to create a mobile for Junior to play with!
Now my mind is swarming with creative ideas. Hang on, I gotta write these down and then pitch the show to the Fox Network.
Wow, Crunchy Frog! Could you use a creative consultant?
You can make a lovely starburst pattern on your couch by artfully spilling cheap red wine on it in random patterns. Before the wine dries out, distribute pretzels all over the couch liberally, taking care to spill the salt out of the bottom of the bag. The salt will push the pigment in the wine around in facsinating patterns. If you want to make this a family project, use kool-aid instead.
I like the “pet mold” idea, I am at a loss for what to do with tile grout mold…
The mold spots that form on the ceiling are another thing altogether. You just need a writing utensil (whatever you first pull out of the junk drawer, if you are feeling indecisive) and a chair. Stand on the chair and connect the mold dots with your writing utensil, and, lo and behold… you have CELESTIAL CONSTELLATIONS on your ceiling!! The celestial look is all the rage… :::and on, and on, and on…:::
I vaguely recall that someone did a study with human hair and turns out, it can really soak up the grease. In fact, some Martha Wannabe stuffed a bunch of hair into old pantyhose and used a similar contraption to soak up the oil slick from the Exxon Valdez…
Seems pretty logical, I know what happens to my hair after a couple days without washing. Now I know why: hair is a grease magnet!
Surely the shower drain hair could be used to clean the grease off the range hood?
Well, not as bad as our amphibian friend. My bathroom is clean (too germaphobic to let THAT go), but the rest of the apartment is a wreck. I HATE doing dishes. I’ll do everything else, clean the bathroom, vacuum (if I had one, I need to get me one of those) fold laundry, whatever. But I will NOT do dishes. And as the dish washing gnome is nothing more than a cruel, cruel joke, they don’t get done. I wash them as I need them, and then have a frenetic dish-washing fit when someone is coming over. And my bedroom has clothes strewn everywhere, because I can never choose what to wear in the morning. You know the image of the woman throwing clothes other her shoulders in a mad fit? If she didn’t clean them up afterwards, she’d be me. They’re clean (for the most part) but…just everywhere.
Thank you. I feel better for coming out of my empty closet.
But Dogzilla, that would involve me cleaning. I don’t actually want to clean anything, I just want the crap that’s all over the place look like it’s supposed to be all over the place.
And Tabithina, you’re suggesting I stand on a chair in the bath tub while reaching up to attempt to play connect-the-dots with the mold on the ceiling? There’s a thread waiting to happen entitled “How I Ended Up in Traction”.
So obviously, if I was to attempt what you suggested, I’d be in the hosptial before you can say :wally
And finally, sweet Swiddles . . . vaccuum? What is this vaccuum? I just bring the dogs over from my mom’s house every couple weeks. They eat whatever they can of the floor, and then I figure it’s clean enough. After all, if the dog won’t mess with it, it’s not worth messing with at all.
I hate to say this, Crunchy Frog, snicker, but those were some good threads and we can always use some more good threads around here.
You sound a lot like me. I’m a specialist at “creative self-injury”. I have really huge feet for a woman (size eleven), and just last week, I was happily reading the SDMB, and I heard the phone ring. The phone was across the room. All I had to do was push out my nice, ergonomic office chair, walk a few feet, and pick it up. Instead, I somehow got my right foot entangled in the chair, and went down hard enough to knock the wind out of myself. I hit my left shoulder on a small, useless decorative table. I smacked my kneecap really hard on the floor. I ended up with a stress fracture in my right foot. While I was laying on the floor, regaining my breath, the answering machine picked up the call… a telemarketer, of course. I should send 'em my doctor bill.
So, a person who cannot even GET UP FROM A CHAIR safely probably has no business telling someone else to go stand on one. But, hell, I do lots of stuff I shouldn’t!