Peeps got to slackin' during the holidays, and I had to show some mercy considering my trusty laptop has some sort of commitment issue and I dropped the ball a few times myself. Not in cleaning, mind you, just in posting.
So I got lots of requests from newbies and old-bies (?) alike asking for a little review of why I'm crazy and how that translates into a clean house. I wrote for something like an eon, hoping it would ignite some cleaning fire...or real fire, since that is always a cleaning option.
I left it up this week like a crab net, hoping to ensnare the interest and fervor of as many of you as possible. Alas, it is Saturday, I am on my actual computer, and I am going to KICK.FILTH.ASS. And so are you. If you're reading this you can't click out in good conscience knowing the rest of us are on our hands and knees. I for one am on a particularly semi-effective cocktail of Dilaudid, Percocet, and Valium, that the Good Lord might see fit to eliminate the squalor (read: one plate and one load of laundry) in which my children live.
Also, Reilly's puppy, Bella, um, is not my favourite creature these days. Bitch gets out of her crate, we cannot figure out how, and then, you know, tidies up the place naturally. So when my formidable list is complete (I have until 9:30pm), we are having a separate shampoo extravaganza. Joy. I especially love that her accoutrements have totaled like $60.00 worth of stuffedies, blankets, special bones, necklaces, pedicures, I don't even know.
They even use my ottoman to exalt her spoiled highness, aaahhhh:
But where's Bella? She sleeps with Todd, ooh, he so fierce, and then she wakes up Reilly, who is so busted for having the phone in bed. (Photo pending new phone cooperation...)
Here's a little something I whipped up for you guys today, to get your blood pumping/exploding:
Putting your coffee directly into an IV is the most prudent course of action. Wrap the cord around your neck and you can just push it around while you bust it out!