Cleaning is something which I do not like very much, and therefore spend a lot of time avoiding doing. This has the effect of making the house dirtier, which I do not like, because it reminds me of cleaning, which I do not like, and reminds me of the fact that I will have to do some cleaning sometime, which I like even less. Eventually - by some bizarre slip of fate - I find myself actually cleaning, which, taken with thinking about cleaning and avoiding cleaning - is, of all those things, the thing that I like least of all and reminds me all over again why I have spent all this time in the comparatively pleasant activity of avoiding cleaning.
I found myself in this situation the other day; I don't know how I find myself in these situations, really, as I quite enjoy avoiding cleaning: it is a comparatively relaxing and stress-free activity, with the addition of a little extra mould here and there to keep the house bright and colourful. Anyway, I was in one of these situations (better known as the bathroom), and I was cleaning. The situation really was ludicrous: what place on earth does cleaning have in a bathroom? I ask you. In a last ditch attempt to avoid cleaning, I was - forgive me - grizzling in a bad tempered manner in the Baron's general direction.
"What's all this stuff doing in the bathroom?" I said. "It's ridiculous!"
"Clean it!" chirped the Baron chirpily.
I cleaned it, mostly by throwing it underneath the sink where I temporarily couldn't see it. There is a cupboard underneath the sink and as it was already crammed full of stuff, I can't rightly say that it held all the stuff that I threw into it, but I didn't mind, and neither did it.
I desultorily attempted to rub at some of the grime underneath the tap, but found to my frustration I couldn't because of all the things on the sink getting in the way of my hand while trying to rub the grime off under the tap in the process of my general effort to clean up the bathroom which I was doing because..... oh, never mind.
So naturally I went back to cleaning things off the sink. There were a lot of things on the sink, don't ask me why, it's a ridiculous question.
"There's so much soap in here!" I said. "What's soap doing in the bathroom?"
For some strange reason the Baron didn't answer this.
"This is silly! The soap's getting in the way! I'm getting rid of it!" I announced, eventually.
This was a wise decision. What place does soap have in the bathroom, really? None that I can think of, and anyway, after my decision here things went much smoother. I swooped all the cakes of soap off the bench and neatly deposited them in the garbage. Soap really is a nonsensical product at the best of times, but especially so when it is in the bathroom. Not only does it get in the way of grime, which gets in the way of the bathroom, which gets in the way of some other grime that was there before the bathroom, and which is undoubtedly much more attractive and interesting than the bathroom (though perhaps without hot and cold running water), but soap can only be used for one thing - cleaning. Even just writing about soap makes me shudder again as it raises the horrible prospect of cleaning all over again. Ugh!
So: where was I? Oh. Yes. Cleaning. In the bathroom. Having performed the irritating task for long enough (and got rid of all that unpleasant soap) I think I retired shortly after. Cleaning is, aside from anything else, a very strenuous activity. I highly recommend you don't do it.
It's possible the Baron later discovered the soap in the bin.
"Why is there soap in the bin?" the Baron asked.
For some strange reason, I didn't answer this.
Tim, your links stink, you fink!
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