-Me quote: "Tangled fan rushings/Windows see concrete, hills, sky/Early; lonely class"-
I couldn't retrieve much of a dream last night. Other than it involved a "something something something in a something somewhere". I paraphrase, of course.
Looks like it's time for the next in the series!
Step 3: The Toothpaste-entombed Sink
Now that the Sisyphean Faucet has been cleaned... or at least brought to as clean a state as it will ever be, given its Sisyphean nature... it is time to sally forth to the Sink itself! Unlike the previous objects tackled in the bathroom, the TP-entombed Sink is not meant to be Shiny (unless you possess one of those fancy designer stainless steel Sinks, in which case I regard you with pity and envy mixed), but rather an unassumingly matte shade of white. It is not, currently, white, at least in the strictest sense of the word.
But perhaps I should clarify myself -- "strict" is such a subjective adjective. When I here write "in the strictest sense of the word", what I really mean is "encompassing the entire range of the color spectrum, but with a strong bias toward encrusted dingy blue-grey patches interspersed with mysterious repulsive flecks of mouth detritus".
In the interests of saving you from the arduous, failed attempts I at first made at removing these spectral variations, I will tell you exactly what you must set to doing. Begin by selecting your most powerful, hand-peeling Glass Cleaner in a spray bottle. This is important; no matter how determined you are, applying Glass Cleaner Wet Wipes to a TP-entombed Sink will be approximately as effective as applying the U.S. Congress to farm subsidy reform. Once this bottle is in hand, proceed to ignore all that your mother ever told you about spraying onto a Paper Towel first, and brazenly squirt the fluid directly into the Sink. Experts differ on their recommendations about technique at this point, but as their preferred techniques generally involve expensive Crop Duster Aeroplanes, these methods are fairly universally out of reach for the humble homeowner. On the other hand, if you indeed can afford a localized crop-dusting Windex application
WHY ARE YOU CLEANING YOUR OWN BATHROOM TO BEGIN WITH?!!
But assuming that most of my readers are of the humble homeowner category, pump your Glass Cleaner until either (1) half the fluid is gone, or (2) your index finger dons leg warmers, tights, and big '80's hair and mysteriously appears with Jane Fonda on a new excercise video. Once the Sink is appropriately sluiced, tear off a new Square of Paper Towel and scrub away at the trouble spots. These will be easier to get rid of than the VWS on the Mirror, as the Sink is an opaque object, but you may have to switch Paper Towels when your first one starts to acquire a whitish, oddly foul-smelling encrustation of toothpaste+Windex=malevolent chalk???
And then there is the question of the Drain. No doubt its rim has that peculiar orange stuff that Dr. Seuss would call a "cat ring". The problem is, Dr. Seuss has been deceiving you all these years. Yes. Even though the cat ring in the famous tale requires countless transpositions and fully twenty-six creepy nesting cats-in-the-hats to remove, I am sorry to inform you that the reality is much more ominous. You may be tempted to close the Drain for smoother maneuvering. May I suggest checking to make sure it will open again, first? For, though there is nothing smoother, more seamless, more tidy than a closed Drain, its seamlessness poses a very grave difficulty if it should decide to shut and never open. There is no possible way to jam even a fingernail underneath (and you should not, under any circumstances, try... more on that later) an edge that does not exist. And you will quickly notice that a Sink without a Drain has limited capabilities.
Having avoided that peril, you are still faced with the task of cleaning around the Drain (especially complicated if you must be careful not to bump it for fear of irreversibly closing it). For its translucent look of benignity, that orange film collected around the Drain is of the sort that will test even the staunchest elbow grease. Furthermore, should you chance to slide one of your hapless fingers across the underside of the Drain Cover, o! Horrors!! A black, decomposing, mouldering, glistening glop of mire will become the permanent ornament of your quivering hand!
To be continued (next episode: Step 4: The Faux Marble Countertop)...
Reality check. And puzzle over how black muck can arise from blue toothpaste and clear water.
6 years ago

Hilarious. I wish I could write like you, but unfortunatley my gramma skills will always be rusty.
ReplyDeleteSpeaking of rusty, and seeing as you're a Myst fan (me too), I can't help but wonder - given the recent assault on grime - what your reaction was when first playing Riven?
All those worn out, rusty, grinding mechanisms were in stark contrast to the first games graphical look - and sound! The later games tended to use different materials (not metal) for puzzle interaction based on what the theme of the 'age' was.
I loved Riven, but due to your recent posts, I can't help but think of you playing that game with mouse in one hand and a scouring pad in the other. :-D
Another Myst fan!!!!! Wow!!! I should have guessed after the steampunk drawing ;)... that pretty much narrows it down to Jules Verne or Myst.
ReplyDeleteI did think Riven was beautiful... it's kind of funny actually, I talk about all this cleaning stuff, but aside from hygienic matters (e.g. Vile Encrusted Toilet and Toothpaste-entombed Sink), I'm secretly fond of entropy. For the longest time I've had this pair of sneakers that my mother wants to replace whenever she sees them, but I think they're lovely. Sure they have holes, but those holes are what give them their CHARACTER.
Having said that, I think my favorite game visually is still M4: Revelation (Exile's second). I am easily wooed by crisp, detailed graphics, despite the Ages perhaps being more inherently beautiful in Riven.