Thursday, November 20, 2003
*fume*
People must be shot. It's that simple.
What people, you ask?
Public slobs. Those who are too good to clean up their own damn messes.
Look, I'm hardly the poster girl for neatness. My apartment is often a horrible mess, usually straightened or cleaned only when I'm expecting company (which is a good reason have people over fairly often). My past cars have generally had backseats covered with papers and bags and clothes. I frequently had to clear off the passenger seat whenever I had a passenger, the stuff formerly resting on the seat joining the growing pile in the back. My tiny work station has piles of papers everywhere and could use a good dose of organization (though part of it is there is a dearth of filing space, or any kind of space).
What I'm saying is I'm not the most uncluttered of gals. But when sharing a space I try to keep things neat and clean. I try to be always very cognizant of leaving things the way I found them (sometimes even better) when traipsing through shared apartments and houses and rooms, both at home and at the office. It's just plain common courtesy.
So when I go into the kitchen at work and find hot chocolate powder or spilled coffee or crumpled up paper towels strewn across the counter tops, it's all I can do to not charge through the office, screaming for the perpetrator's head, only to grab him (or her), fling her into the offending counter and force him to clean up the mess with their tongue and a toothbrush. Especially since I tend to clean up others' messes while cleaning up my own.
So yeah. Find 'em, line 'em up and shoot 'em. No, I don't think I'm being harsh at all. At least we'll weed the idiots out of the gene pool, hopefully before they can breed.
And that can only be good.
What people, you ask?
Public slobs. Those who are too good to clean up their own damn messes.
Look, I'm hardly the poster girl for neatness. My apartment is often a horrible mess, usually straightened or cleaned only when I'm expecting company (which is a good reason have people over fairly often). My past cars have generally had backseats covered with papers and bags and clothes. I frequently had to clear off the passenger seat whenever I had a passenger, the stuff formerly resting on the seat joining the growing pile in the back. My tiny work station has piles of papers everywhere and could use a good dose of organization (though part of it is there is a dearth of filing space, or any kind of space).
What I'm saying is I'm not the most uncluttered of gals. But when sharing a space I try to keep things neat and clean. I try to be always very cognizant of leaving things the way I found them (sometimes even better) when traipsing through shared apartments and houses and rooms, both at home and at the office. It's just plain common courtesy.
So when I go into the kitchen at work and find hot chocolate powder or spilled coffee or crumpled up paper towels strewn across the counter tops, it's all I can do to not charge through the office, screaming for the perpetrator's head, only to grab him (or her), fling her into the offending counter and force him to clean up the mess with their tongue and a toothbrush. Especially since I tend to clean up others' messes while cleaning up my own.
So yeah. Find 'em, line 'em up and shoot 'em. No, I don't think I'm being harsh at all. At least we'll weed the idiots out of the gene pool, hopefully before they can breed.
And that can only be good.
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United States, California, Los Angeles, San Fernando Valley, English, Carol, Female, 36-40.
