I don't mind vacuuming and laundry but dislike ironing and doing dishes. Just sayin'.
Baby, I'd vacuum your floors and fold your clothes all day long. As long as I don't have to finish this article.
I don't mind dishes, but I insist on good gloves.
I just count on kindly woodland creatures to do all of my housework for me.
Get a roomba. I'm obsessed with the desire for a roomba. I hear the new ones are really good. The laundry will have to wait for Rosie the Robot, though. Wait--you live in NY and DC--can you not find a wash and fold service? Life is too short for laundry.
Becks, sweetie, I hate to tell you this but that's just not how it ends up. Even if you're freed forever from laundry, you end up with a whole host of new annoying chores that you never had to do before, like managing piles and piles of paperwork or dusting your partner's collection of garage-sale television sets or throwing away bottlecaps and bent paperclips that somehow proliferate in every room. Really. It is far, far better housework-wise to live alone.
That's what Buck and I do -- I scrub the bathrooms and clean the kitchen, he tidies, sweeps, and vacuums. Neither one of us does a particularly frequent job, but we don't overlap much. (Oddly, while he vacuums, I'm in charge of the occasional use of the carpet steamer. Maybe the dividing line is 'chores that involve dampness'.) He cooks more than I do, but that's more because he's a fussier eater than I am -- I'll eat almost anything anyone hands me, but he gets stuck on only wanting exactly what he was in the mood for.
But the names of household chores make such good sexual innuendo. The dating sites would be fertile ground for miscommunication.
5: The roomba is pretty awesome, but I gotta warn you: it means that you have to keep the floors clear and it doesn't, of course, do things like move furniture or deal with dustbunnies that wind around the legs of the couch very well. Basically it's good at keeping the main floor nicer to walk on, but you still have to haul out the damn vacuum periodically.
Men launder indiscriminately. Any private categories that you may have for your clothing (say, silk vs not-silk) will be completely ignored by almost all men.
Excellent point Becks.
My gf loves doing laundry. It relaxes her. She enjoys it. I don't mind washing clothes but I cannot figure out how to fold the clothes. So she does all the clothes washing and folding.
I enjoy grocery shopping and she hates it. So I do all of the grocery shopping.
So it works well.
Really. It is far, far better housework-wise to live alone. with somebody other than B's husband.
Men launder indiscriminately.
I most certainly do not. Also, I've never lived with any woman who could fold laundry to my standards.
10 is bullshit. Mr. B. prefers to do the laundry because he's all upset over his mom having washed everything on hot.
Of course, imho he doesn't have a clue how to handle stains, but he's very responsible about things like delicates and lingerie.
Even if it means more housework, I'm hoping that marriage at least means less annoying housework.
Becks innocence is like a newly opened flower. How old is she, 12?
I most certainly do not. Also, I've never lived with any woman who could fold laundry to my standards.
Now I think Apo might be me.
This popped up on my immigration board this morning with someone explaining that he couldn't find an American wife who could cook and clean because of feminists, so he had to go to China to find a bride, because of feminists, and women are too focused on their careers, because of feminists.
shivbunny did all the laundry yesterday.
Men launder indiscriminately. Any private categories that you may have for your clothing (say, silk vs not-silk) will be completely ignored by almost all men.
Absolutely. For me, the exception to this would be silk and cashmere. I know that silk and cashmere aren't supposed to go in the washer and dryer under the same setting that I put all my clothes on, so I don't own anything made of silk because it would be a bother to wash it separately. I got a cashmere sweater once, and wore it about 30 times before eventually taking it to the dry cleaner. Then when I got it back it quickly developed holes and I don't wear it anymore.
18: That sounds kind of like pretty much every other story you've ever told us about your immigration board.
17: I'm up to two, then. Soon, I will be all of you.
I am lw's generic man. Anything that needs special handling I throw away. "Special handling" includes ironing.
When we were married my wife accused me of lying when I said that cleanliness was not important to me. Supposedly I was just trying to con her into doing the work. But if there's one thing I've proved in the last 30 years, it's that I was telling the truth.
Avatars of the low-housekeeping life include Charlie Mingus, Erik Satie, and Quentin Crisp. "After four years without dusting, it doesn't get any worse."
I've never lived with any woman who could fold laundry to my standards.
That is a little harsh, don't you think? If you are not satisfied, then do it yourself.
20: The corollary was 'well, women don't want to have sex as much after marriage' so the men shouldn't have to help with housework. Someone, bless them, pointed out that maybe their wives would be less tired if they did the dishes.
If you are not satisfied, then do it yourself.
That is precisely how I have addressed the problem. I'm also aware that it's neurotic.
Apo's lived with literally hundreds of women, so his statement is statistically significant.
Kotsko is good with laundry, ladies. Awhile back he was bragging about a method of folding fitted sheets that he figured out.
To illustrate, will, I have come home and unfolded then refolded a basket of laundry. I did not (and do not) complain about it, as I realize it's pure craziness. Pictures hanging crooked do not bother me.
Heh. Buck also does the laundry, more often than not, but is awed by my shirt-folding-fu.
I was kidding, of course.
OCD is such an interesting disorder. It can strike so randomly.
I don't mind washing or drying things, but I just cannot seem to fold. I keep trying. I keep failing.
25, 27: My boyfriend actually folds his *tshirts* with a shirt cardboard. I love it when he does my laundry, but I feel a little guilty. When I do his laundry, I simply tell him when it's ready to be folded because I know that no matter how careful I am, it's going to drive him nuts if I do it.
I only fold pants and underwear. All my shirts that can go on hangers are on hangers. The sweaters and sweatshirts are all wadded up in a drawer.
Folding fitted sheets is obviously impossible. Sounds like some sort of running joke.
21: No, no, I must revise my assessment: Also, I've never lived with any woman who could fold laundry to my standards.
Fold laundry into what? Little swans? Pastry dough? Is it like folding space?
On the other hand, Ned may -- against all evidence other than laundry folding -- be me.
Fold laundry into what? Little swans? Pastry dough? Is it like folding space?
A lot of women can't handle some of the permutations that come up in Minkowski laundry. Less of the abstract/spacial intelligence don't ya know.
I think Cryptic Ned is me. Wait, maybe I am Cryptic Ned.
So if I am will and Beefo Meaty...and lw is both will's girlfriend and Jesus McQueen's wife...and apostropher is Jesus McQueen...
36:
I think that means that lw is BitchPhd.
31: Kotsko doesn't tell everyone that he is a brilliant topologist.
My boyfriend actually folds his *tshirts* with a shirt cardboard.
I too have re-folded laundry -- I prefer just to do all the laundry myself -- but that is, like, wow.
lw is both will's girlfriend and Jesus McQueen's wife
Looks as though I might need a divorce lawyer.
Also, I've never lived with any woman who could fold laundry to my standards.
Ugly Naked Guy felt the same way about my laundry folding skills. Fair enough; he was free to fold all the laundry in compliance with his folding standards to his heart's content.
Looks as though I might need a divorce lawyer.
I can do that for you also. But I'm cool with you and lw staying married.
UNG needs to get voted out of the house. His immunities have expired.
6. It is far, far better housework-wise to live alone.
This had better not be true. I do housework every day after work, and every day fall farther and farther behind. I assumed marriage would be mutually time-leveraging.
I think lw might be my girlfriend.
There's a first. I'm male, can sort light from dark, and know how to fold fitted sheets, but not much more. But among my male friends, the mysteries of laundry categories are so deep as to be unsoundable. Partly this is because none of the gentlemen I can joke with this way care about clothes, and partly it's because women have as many ways to care about clothes and shoes as does my kid to care about toy cars. I do have some compulsive friends, but I rarely venture into personal topics with them. Do couples where both care about clothes agree on laundry protocol?
I'm male
I feel like Senator Craig now.
I wash things in cold, sometimes. Does that count?
This had better not be true.
Sadly, it appears to be. And that's without adding kids to the equation.
Time to go pick up my agents of household chaos daughters.
I feel like Senator Craig now.
Clammy and wrinkly, you mean?
I feel like Senator Craig now.
I'd deny having met you here, if that helps.
lw has convinced me that I am a man. I launder indiscriminately (such that my daughter not uncommonly inherits sweaters or t-shirts that magically go from my size to hers -- I really do need to improve on that), and can't (with limited but significant exceptions) find too many ways to care about clothes or shoes.
lw has convinced me that I am a man.
I think that only men enjoy Popeye. Possibly this is due to a streak of misogyny in one of the Fleischer brothers.
There may be other ways to tell also, but they only apply to the young at heart.
How many women enjoy the Three Stooges?
Mongolia put out a Three Stooges stamp series.
The sweaters and sweatshirts are all wadded up in a drawer.
You must have some combination of more space and fewer sweaters than I have. Folding makes more space in the drawer!
I don't fold underwear, though.
Three Stooges, ehh.
The Stooges, though-- I'd buy that stamp.
The only special care for clothes that I've learned so far is to separate light and dark clothes, and that certain items, for mysterious reasons I don't understand, should not be put in the dryer.
Thus it takes forever for me to wash my pair of white jeans since I don't really own many other white things, and it takes me forever to do laundry because I hang-dry everything I like out of fear.
Ironing sheets I can understand, even if I think it's a bit much. But what do you get from ironing underwear? Did he have a reason?
My exMIL ironed the underwear.
My aunt does this for her family. I got her a calendar of ironing in improbable places for christmas.
OCD, very likely. And the sad sort of life that left her with little else to do, I think.
60:
I thought she had the best granddaughter in the whole world? How sad could her life be?
Hey, I hang-dry everything I like out of fear, too! That includes about two-thirds of my things. I just had a conversation with one of the counsel here that basically ended with "once you've worked here long enough, you'll start getting your laundry done."
61: She does. But getting to know the best granddaughter in the world would require some effort and travel, which would take her away from her valuable ironing. But don't get me started -- I can go from bemused mockery of her to abject, bitter scorn in a heartbeat.
Am I the only person who wonders whether this is a very subtle announcement on the part of Becks?
I had a deal with my roommates in Ohio that I would gladly cook anything, to any specifications, for any occasion, at any time, and if I didn't know how to make it, I'd learn. I'd pack lunches for them for the whole week, make coffee, serve dinner while they watched TV, cater parties for their friends, and do all the grocery decision-making. They'd demand quesadillas at 3am, Thai red curry from scratch, rice pudding with various fat contents and consistencies, Oaxacan-style chiles rellenos con mole, fancy doodads for faculty cocktail hours, phyllo-wrapped veggie snacks for drive-in movies, and on and on.
But I didn't wash a dish for two sweet, sweet years. It was perfect.
56: he only special care for clothes that I've learned so far is to separate light and dark clothes
If you unlearn that for at least socks and underwear you can save lots of time and effor in the sorting and matching. Some sort of uniform gray is quickly attained and makes life much easier.
I never separate clothes by color. I've never noticed it having any effect on anything.
And I'd agree with Becks that division of labor can make housework a lot more pleasant under the right circumstances. I'd add, though, that some housework just isn't worth doing unless you live with someone or have people over fairly often. When I lived with people, I was pretty tidy. I liked to leave things looking nice, no dishes in the sick, floor swept, fridge full, etc. And I'm embarrassed to say that, living by myself in a small apartment that not even boyfriends have wanted to come hang out in (it is snug), I'm happy if I keep the bed clear. The couch is covered in a series of piles of things I'm reading, papers I'm grading, mail I haven't sorted, clean clothes I haven't folded, and jackets I want to keep handy. I sweep and am pretty good about keeping the bathroom and kitchen clean, but unless someone's coming over, clutter takes over.
I ask myself, "Why does it matter so much more to you to keep things nice for other people, but not for yourself? Is it because you hate yourself?"
And then I think, "No, it's because I'm so confident that I will always be in love with me that I don't need to show off to me." Then I give myself a tender kiss.
Then I give myself a tender kiss.
In a public restroom.
No public-restroom kisses are tender.
Becks explained to me this weekend the concept of perfumed versus unperfumed detergents. Who knew! Whatever's on hand goes in with whatever's dirty, set to Warm-Cold, whatever that means. I have learned that no women's things go in with my things, because every woman I have ever known has had queer laundry rules that obtain to the garment—categories be damned.
Will gladly cook every meal and wash every dish to get out of dusting and vacuuming. God, but do I hate dusting. I hate folding clothes enough that I hand absolutely everything, but I haven't found the workaround to dust.
Laundry indiscretion: Becks turns all her clothes inside out before they go in the wash.
71: You hand your clothes? Is this a euphemism I don't know?
Oh, hang. Nevermind. Lots of images came to mind first.
Still waiting for categorical denials that this post constitutes a stealth announcement of conjugal planning, just FYI.
Rah has much more rigid laundry rules than I do. I can wash everything I own in four loads: pants, socks/underwear/towels, dark shirts (a very large laundry load) and light shirts (very, very small).
I used to be very picky about laundry, but this summer I decided separate loads was ridiculous. I know there will one day be a tragedy, but it hasn't happened yet. I'll hang-dry bras, any delicate new thing that I sort of cherish, and any delicate old thing I'm not ready to let go of.
i agree with 14
although i don't fold much
most shirts get hung up
and jeans get put in piles, to avoid messing up the creases. I hardly ever wash jeans though.
often i just hang up shirts in the bathroom and run the shower on hot to steam it up, to let the wrinkles fall out. i'm not too anal about it because they'll have3 minor wriklnes w/in half hour of putting it on anyway.
i hand wash denim and sweaters and some delicate shirts, mostly vintage stuff.
I'm very sensitive to scents in laundry detergents, especially when it comes to towels and sheets. Shut up, 'Smasher!
And, yes, I do wash all of my clothes inside-out because it keeps them from fading and pilling.
76: Not Becks, but I'm pretty sure no such message was being sent.
I should clarify: "much more rigid" means that he has any rules at all. His rules are infinitely more rigid than mine but only because he has any at all and I have pretty much zero.
Still waiting for categorical denials that this post constitutes a stealth announcement of conjugal planning, just FYI.
4 suggests either that this isn't true or that it's going to be one very strange marriage.
categories be damned
separate loads was ridiculous
I have pretty much zero
Jesus, you people are a bunch of savages.
AWB is me! I used to be picky about separate loads until I realized nearly everything I own is machine-washable and so old that nothing will bleed. Plus, the laundromat has giant washers that are so much fun to use. Everything in one washer!
Ummm...not sure how to say this...and not wanting to get into it much but....
It was not my intention to send a subtle signal that conjugal planning was taking place. However, if you were to pick up a subtle signal, it might be that I've been reading some dating sites.
I've got to get this breedar tuned. I'm getting ghost images and blind spots left and right.
(Sorry if I was prying. It's the way of a simple laundry savage, I can't help it.)
Woo dating! Keep us updated on how it goes. I've quit. I think I'm too manic to date well anymore. I used to be so awesome at it.
However, if you were to pick up a subtle signal, it might be that I've been reading some dating sites.
in other words, the wide stance thread.
categories be damned
separate loads was ridiculous
I have pretty much zero
where is detergent
i can't fold these fucking socks
maybe Becks will help
you people are a bunch of savages
You're not kidding. I'm tempted to introduce my wife to Unfogged just so she can read this thread and realize how lucky she is.
I've been sending my laundry out since I moved to New York. They fold it for me, which is the only way it will ever get folded. I think the clothes wear out a bit faster because they're not laundered with love, but it keeps me from having to sit around in the laundromat every other weekend.
92: Bear in mind that we are of varying ages and levels in the social pecking order.
94: Well, I wouldn't tell her that, of course.
I get so flustered by piles of mail. I just don't know what to do with it, and whenever I clean I just re-pile it in differently sized piles. Online billpay has been a dream.
I love sweeping and vacuuming, because the room immediately looks so much nicer.
I hand wash and hang dry everything except sheets, towels and jeans. Do you all eat with your hands, or just mash your face into the food on your plate?
so old that nothing will bleed
How old is that?
Watch out, O. The superciliously fastidious die alone.
I just mash, it's vivacious.
87: That interpretation had occurred to me, but I figured it was less likely than the others. Guess not.
My mother and I both hate to open mail. I don't know why. She collects piles of mail and shoves them into drawers. When my father was looking for something important a few months ago she handed him a magazine stuffed with mail to get the mail out of sight and said, "I hope it's in here because that's the only pile I can find." Otherwise they live a neurotically spotless life.
99: The "sartorial menopause" comes at about 6 months. Short life-cycle.
97: hand wash? Ogged is THOB again.
Do you all eat with your hands
It depends on who's watching and on how hot the food is. Not pasta, though. I'm hoping to get a choosy friend out for yummy Ethiopian tomorrow; which utensils would you recommend for him?
How old is that?
With modern dyes, washed three times. Four to be safe.
I hand wash...everything
C'mon. No wonder you don't have time to fix yourself breakfast.
I can't believe no one has grabbed (and peeled and eaten) the "much more rigid" low-hanging fruit from Robust McManlyPants' comment.
In my new house, which is a charming 1901 bungalow, the washer and dryer are outside on the back porch. I have actually lived in a trailer and felt less trailer-trashy. My neighbors get to see me pulling frillies from the wash. I think this is an excuse never to do laundry again.
In my new house, which is a charming 1901 bungalow, the washer and dryer are outside on the back porch.
I love this kind of thing. I love getting stuff out of the house and making it seem less cluttered. Granted, I'm prone to clutter. But not too bad.
I kind of had a breakthrough a couple years ago where I became willing to get rid of stuff. It's so liberating.
The "sartorial menopause" comes at about 6 months. Short life-cycle.
Almost, AWB.
With modern dyes, washed three times. Four to be safe.
Damn, this is awesome. Unfogged improves my life! Who knew.
97: hand wash? Ogged is THOB again.
You have trouble conceiving of lifestyles other than your own, don't you, Ned?
I keep better house than most any woman I've met, except for ironing -- I vacuum, do kitchen and bathroom floors on hands and knees and know how to strip and wax 'em every year or so, do spotless windows, sort laundry according to fabric, color, construction, etc., wash woodwork at least twice a year and walls at least once, clean ovens and counters and sinks and tubs to near sterility (bleach is your friend). Hate folding clothes, because I take a long time, but am willing to do so grudgingly. People who are in a joint tenantship with me (like a club ski cabin, summer cabin, or the houses I shared with roommates) are truly fortunate. And I like to buy the groceries and do the cooking, especially if I'm in love, and I'm a damned good cook if you don't insist on complicated French sauces or something.
I think this comes from German-ancestry middle-class upbringing, followed by staff work at summer camps, followed by the Army, followed by a long and varied single life. At any rate, I do see dirt, (which many men just don't) and do do more than my share of housework. My ex just dropped most of these tasks on me while we were married, and used the energy for gardening.
But I sense that I'm too old for Becks, and probably don't dress well enough, am too encumbered. (And I don't dance in public any more.) It's too bad; I really like a smart woman with a clever mouth; dated mostly journalism and theater students in college.
I have learned, painfully, that women I'm courting do not appreciate help with the chores at their place, especially if I do my usual energetic job. Kills romance, and thus desire, nearly instantly.
"I do love you, Joel; just not in that way."
Heebie, I hear ya on the clutter issue, but this doesn't actually help me. I can't leave my dirty laundry outside next to the washer while it waits to be washed, so it clutters up the bedroom. And I can't leave the clean clothes out there either, so they clutter up the living room until they're folded. Then they're moved back to the bedroom and the cycle starts anew. It's maddening!
Mail indiscretion: Catherine never opens her mail. I think there's some mail of hers on the mantle that's compost by now.
I can't leave my dirty laundry outside next to the washer while it waits to be washed, so it clutters up the bedroom.
Just put it in the washer as soon as you take it off! And then when the washer gets filled up, do a wash!
Also, is Ogged the only one who hand washes everything? Nobody else has even mentioned that. Help me out here.
I can't believe no one has grabbed (and peeled and eaten) the "much more rigid" low-hanging fruit from Robust McManlyPants
I got tired of waiting around the airport bathroom so they all missed their chance. The wireless signal in there is awful.
is Ogged the only one who hand washes everything?
I would guess so, since most everything I wear is plastic and washes and dries really easily.
114: Joel! That was astonishing!
Too bad you don't dance in public any more.
114: Joel! That was astonishing!
Too bad you don't dance in public any more.
Just put it in the washer as soon as you take it off! And then when the washer gets filled up, do a wash!
You realize this would mean disrobing on the back porch, right? This is actually a problem, because I'll often want to wash the clothes I'm wearing, so I'm in the habit of stripping down by the washer and tossing them in. I can't do that any more, sadly.
And, yes, Ogged is the only one who hand washes anything. I don't even hand wash bras. The most I'll do for them is put them in one of those mesh bags so the straps don't get stretched all to hell.
Before I had a washer and dryer, I used to just wear my soccer clothes into the shower and disrobe there, so that everything would at least get rinsed out. In case I didn't go to the laundromat before I needed to wear the jersey again.
Also, in high school I used to get dressed the night before, and sleep in my clothes, so that in the morning I could just slip on my shoes and grab some coffee, and head out the door.
I would guess so, since most everything I wear is plastic and washes and dries really easily.
You were serious about the hand washing? (I can no longer tell where your unexpected weirdnesses end and the deficiencies of my humor chip begin.)
A particularly overfed seagull in Bath once sent my son and me back to the hotel room shower to wash the shit off ourselves and pretty much every stitch of clothing either of us was wearing. And it got a couple of other people with the same shot.
You were serious about the hand washing?
I was, indeed. I basically do the heebie method. Take what I wore that day into the shower, wash, hang.
ogged @ 123 :
> Joel reports that Joel is awesome.
Close.
I report that in some ways I am some things that some women like to _think_ would be awesome in a mate, only to find that ultimately they have issues with what they thought they wanted.
And did you miss the old, frumpy, encumbered, and inhibited parts? Or does that make me awesome in your book too?
Sometimes it's just so fucking heartwarming around here.
Didn't read the whole thread, but: Roomba are fucking awful. They're noisy, they're fussy, they take way longer to vacuum a room than if you use an actual vacuum cleaner, but to add insult to injury, once they're done you have to go back over manually 9 times out of 10. Also, even moderately unusual furniture arrangements can leave them in an infinite loop covering a very small area.
I report that in some ways I am some things that some women like to _think_ would be awesome in a mate, only to find that ultimately they have issues with what they thought they wanted.
NICE GUY! NICE GUY!
Hm. On those occasions when I have lived with significant others, I have nonetheless always done my own laundry. Someone else's horrible dirty clothes--too sordid and domestic. Or perhaps this comes from doing family laundry in my youth...something which gave me a lifelong, snobbish distaste for poly-cotton blends and bright colors. (The Frowners are, traditionally, monastic as far as the general "mortification of the flesh" thing goes, and the flesh is far more mortified in teal poly-cotton interlock knit elastic-waist skirts and sweatshirts with flowers on them (for example) than in, say, dark-colored woven cotton.)
129: That sounds really gross. You're a bizarre mixture of fastidious and unclean, ogged. I feel like the art patrons looking at Kramer's portrait:
Man: He is a loathsome, offensive brute, yet I can't look away.
Woman: He transcends time and space.
Man: He sickens me.
Woman: I love it.
Man: Me too.
(I hate the style guide.)
mantle
I was going to make a joke here about royalty and the Flophouse, but Google informs me that mantle is actually an accepted variant of mantel. Go figure.
129:
Take what I wore that day into the shower, wash, hang.
Unencumbered.
Like camping out, or living out of a suitcase. Lovely.
I was going to make a joke about the Flophouse pet squid, but Becks informs me that the Flophouse has a pet squid.
I propose that Roomba plural are Roombae.
Take what I wore that day into the shower, wash, hang.
And thus is born another idiosyncratic definition. O-handwashing, perhaps?
Seriously, in no way is that what I imagine when I hear the phrase "I handwash my laundry".
137: I don't even know what to say. I mean: I used to just wear my soccer clothes into the shower and disrobe there, so that everything would at least get rinsed out. That's...there must be a phrase regarding whatever axis "gross" falls on that is analogous to "moral intuition"; surely "I wear my clothes into the shower to clean them" falls not that far above "if I turn my underwear inside out, it counts as clean."
"Roomba" is already plural for "Roombum".
Oh, I see the objection. I don't just rinse them; I use soap.
Also, even moderately unusual furniture arrangements can leave them in an infinite loop covering a very small area.
Like when Helen Keller's parents punished her.
Mexican handwashing: The most ridiculous path to a goal that everyone shares.
144: How is that so gross, if you're talking about sports clothes? That's basically the procedure for swimsuits, at least.
Swimsuits are pre-detergented, what with all the chlorine. It would be disgusting to "wash" underwear by only rinsing it.
I choose to believe that , in the shower, Ogged rubs the bar soap all over the clothes while he's still wearing them. And perhaps rubs up and down against a human-sized washboard. Don't go through the wringer, Ogged!
HB @ 134
Yes. I am reliably informed that this makes me pathetic in the eyes of God and man, that it is the classic loser's response to feminism: "But I'm a nice guy, so I deserve to get laid."
I'm still thinking about this. And so the years pass.
I choose to believe that Ogged bathes outside his cabin in a giant, wooden tub, filled with bubbly water, and that he hangs his clothes on an overhanging line, up to but of course not including his britches. Watch out for bears, Ogged!
Heebie gets it exactly right. I installed a modified total gym in my bathtub, and I go back and forth on that until everything is clean.
Man. Now, I'm clearly overgeneralizing from having only met you once, but Ogged: you just don't seem that weird in person. Do you have tinfoil covering all of your windows, or just the ones facing the direction of the UN Building in NYC?
I was kidding about the total gym, LB.
AWB @ 65
> [ deal exchanging real cooking for all dish duty ]
That's pretty much the way we worked it on long wilderness canoe trips: I provisioned, and did all the cooking. In exchange, I didn't have to split firewood for cooking, clean fish, or wash dishes. Seemed to work for everyone.
I am reliably informed
One property of being old at heart is to recognize that there are no reliable informants. Unforeseen truth can come from the most surprising sources, though. Also, to quote Unforgiven: "Deserving aint got nothin to do with it."
50: That was my point, dude, hence the "sports clothes" thing. I soap up the crotches of my swimsuits after I take them off, though, less out of internalized misogyny than being totally neurotic.
Frowner @ 135
> perhaps this comes from doing family laundry in my youth
I think that's a good guess. My sisters were required to do housework, and three of the four of them strongly dislike and avoid it as much as possible as adults. I, on the other hand, got a pass on most housework, and simply don't have that emotional reaction to it today. It's just work, not enforced drudgery.
Of course, for my sisters, there's that mother/daughter dynamic going too.
That's basically the procedure for swimsuits, at least.
Swimmers willingly swan around for hours at a time in fetid pools of other people's urine. Inquiries into what is gross for swimmers to do lead nowhere. (And what ogged said.)
Now I'm just picking on you, joel, but house style for quoting text is described here.
Would someone make the obvious joke response to 154 so I don't have to, please?
Would someone make the obvious joke response to 154
Splooge!
(Was that it?)
More like "'total body' s/b 'Sybian'", but good job capturing the essence. Sorry to make you sexually harass yourself.
lw @ 159 :
> Deserving aint got nothin to do with it.
Ain't it the truth.
And so I experimented for a while with not being a Nice Guy, but it was a pose, and ultimately I went back to being myself.
And so it's all right now
I learned my lesson well
You see you can't please everyone
So you gotta please yourself
(Also, aren't rashguards prone to cracking if not cared for properly? Or am I confusing them with more hardcore garments?)
I just let the essence run down the drain, Lunar.
ogged :
picking on you
Not at all; thanks for the tip. Every tribe has its customs.
Take what I wore that day into the shower, wash, hang.
But that means that sometimes you have to take hot showers and sometimes cold. Plus, how often do you bleach yourself?
how often do you bleach yourself?
Racist.
They elided the Onan parts from the Qu'ran, huh?
Plus, how often do you bleach yourself?
See previous posts in re: chlorine. (My poor, poor hair.)
I would hang-dry practically everything if I had a place to run a line.
Actually, come to think of it, a lot of my arm and leg hair is blond at this point. So, daily.
You don't happen to know anywhere in the area that actually stocks Barracuda, do you, O-dog?
Barracuda is a kind of fish, ogged.
The anti-chlorine shampoo. If I meant the googles, I'd have said Barracudas.
The anti-chlorine shampoo.
Haven't seen that around. I use Johnson's baby shampoo; works well, but I have short, low-maintenance hair.
I have had good success w/ Ultra Swim, which I think they have at either Safeway or Walgreens, although I ended up buying mine over the internet from Campmor.
I also have short, low-maintenance hair (probably not as short, though), but man, the texture of that stuff freaks me out completely. Barracuda is really really good at cunteracting swimhair, and has the added bonus of feeling like real shampoo.
They seem to have it in Palo Alto, but you might as well get it online if you're going to go all the way down there.
Wait holy crap, there's a real swim store in Palo Alto? Why was I not informed?!?!?!?!?!
It's upstairs from a toy store; easy to miss.
This looks like a really bad idea, unless you happen to have given birth to Moses.
I'm on my new laptop, the keys are still kind of stiff. Sheesh.
I already go to Palo Alto too much anyway. Fucking Fry's. Fucking car dealership.
Sorry about the cunt, I had a stiffy.
9.5/10. Creative use of "swimhair" could have put you over the top.
I'm totally indiscriminate about laundry; I can just barely find it in myself to separate colors and whites anymore. However, much more serious than indiscriminate laundering is indiscriminate dishwashing. On the rare occasions when my roommate washes the dishes, I redo it all when she's not around.
And dinner guests? Please stop trying to wash up after dinner as a gesture of gratitude. The deal is: I cook, you entertain me with witty stories, etc., and then get the fuck out without screwing up my kitchen.
cerebrocrat @ 198 :
So even rinsing and stacking is Right Out?
And we should just leave the dirty dishes on the dinner table?
Real questions, not sarcastic; still working on social skills.
Rinsing and stacking, totally out. In my house, leave the dishes on the table, pour yourself another glass of wine, go sit on the couch, and tend to the conversation, not my kitchen. But I can only speak for myself.
197:
195, meet 113.
What? If I understand that, it gets it totally wrong.
196:
I don't get it.
I just meant that the references to cunts and stiffies, and swimhair, are distasteful. Shrug.
191: Well noted. The damn things aren't that hard to flip over, as my daughter's friend learned. No damage done, but scary.
198: Huzzah! Please stay the fuck out of my kitchen if you're a guest; I couldn't agree more. On the other hand, if we're all at the beach and we're in a rental house, then I'm happy to share the cooking and clean-up tasks.
203:
201, meet 113.
I gotta say, this is completely impenetrable to me. I'd decided to ignore it for the last while, but it is bugging me.
191: saw someone put their babe in one of those. It's just a way to go "wireless" in the pool.
Roomba are fucking awful. They're noisy
Disappointed! I wondered about the noise--I always have to consider the possibility that my downstairs neighbor with the poor impulse control might come up and kill me.
"But I'm a nice guy, so I deserve to get laid."
Everybody deserves to get laid, and really well too.
I just ate a nice snack of antibiotics and pickled herring. What was I thinking? They're even more nauseating in combination than individually.
Interesting how little correlation there is between gender and housekeeping habits in this thread.
206: Well, they may not actually be too much noiser than a normal vacuum, but the thing is they really can't be left unattended, so unless you're the sort of person who can easily endure and be productive/relaxed in a room where vacuuming is occuring (I can't), it really defeats the purpose of automation.
the thing is they really can't be left unattended
False! At least in simple rooms like the kitchen.
Pickled herring is the best of all foods. Sweet, sour, salty, spicy, and savory.
Maybe they'll be quieter a couple of models down the line, which is when I'll be able to get one anyway. I won't give up the dream!
209 is completely false; the entire point of the Roomba is to leave it unattended. Which I do in every room.
But let's admit it: I Roomba *really* infrequently, because there's always so much fucking clutter on the floor.
209 is completely false; the entire point of the Roomba is to leave it unattended.
Intentional fallacy! The point may be to leave it unattended, but that doesn't mean that leaving it unattended actually works.
Interesting how little correlation there is between gender and housekeeping habits in this thread.
These are some sick puppies here, Marcus.
John doesn't get sick because he eats dirt.
The point may be to leave it unattended, but that doesn't mean that leaving it unattended actually works.
How about if I unpack the obvious and explain that I leave it unattended, since the entire point of my owning the thing is to do so, and find that doing so works just fine?
Ben, that is in fact correct. I have less than one cold or flu per year, though as I age it's getting somewhat worse.
B also is a big admirer of Whoppers. She can't get enough of them.
Pickled herring is the best of all foods. Sweet, sour, salty, spicy, and savory.
You forgot intensely fishy. The first bite is fascinating, then things rapidly go downhill.
219: I'm what? With their fake lab-created "grill" taste?
Btw, John, I was listening to your cds again earlier today and the verdict on that one song you asked about is mixed. Great lyrics, not a bad tune, but a little "rock" in execution, which isn't always my thing. But definitely worth seeing if it grows on me further.
Admit it, B. Whoppers.
Marcus, you're all wrong. Mmmmmmm, pickled herring. Most of us don't mix it with terramycin, you know.
Boy, I love it when I leave for a while and a thread gets utterly demented.
Ogged: for further efficiency, maybe you should sleep in the dryer?
222.1: Honestly, no. But I do have a shameful liking for Big Macs, which is all the more offensive because inevitably by the last couple of bites I'm finding it revolting.
221: That was confusing for a moment, because I had the malted candies in mind, rather than the burgers.
I was pretty sure that I was on the scent.
226: That's only because you've realized that I'm not too far removed from my Bakersfield roots.
So is the scent crude oil or manure, then?
B are you really from Bakersfield? Figuring ages in my head, it's disturbingly plausible that we know some of the same people.
Gah, Bakersfield. It's got Shark Tooth Hill, but other than the fossils there's not much to redeem that hell hole.
Bakersfield? B, are you a closet okie?
B's not actually from Bakersfield. Her parents are.
And we just discussed this like two days ago. Where have you guys been?
Well thank goodness. She wouldn't want to know those sorts of people, I'm sure.
I'm prone to laziness, carelessness and distraction, but there is no housework I won't do, or feel worse about doing than any other. I always have primary responsibility for dishwashing, all outdoor work, all mechanical work, everything having to do with floors, all sewing. My wife is better at cooking, which she loves, and ironing, which she doesn't, but I'll do them when it's easier that way or she hasn't the time. I've taken over laundry since I've been home the last few years, and even when I'm working now, am the one who does it. My wife shops better but I often do it.
Ah. Well at least they had the good sense to move. Bakersfield is like the bastion of Honk beset by the Mexican hordes of the Central Valley.
re:Chores:
Who the hell would let anyone get away with taking "cooking" as a chore? Sure, it needs to be done, but it's infinitely preferable to scrubbing or arranging of any sort. Cooking is an entropic process, and as such doesn't qualify, in my book, as a "chore."
You can take the bitch out of Bakersfield, but you can't take the Bakersfield out of the bitch.
"You don't know me, but you don't like me"
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zQRJ4Lqty7M
Apropos of absolutely nothing, this just makes me laugh and laugh. Especially given that the original victims of the prank were the Harvard student body.
Yes, but the original pranksters were MIT students, and they always win, except maybe against Caltech students.
It's too bad MIT and Caltech are so far apart, because if they had a prank rivalry it would surely be extremely entertaining.
Well at least they had the good sense to move. Bakersfield is like the bastion of Honk beset by the Mexican hordes of the Central Valley.
What? You sound like my mother and her racist family. I fucking love that combination, and they only moved as far as Stockton, which ain't all that different. And yes, I spent a fair bit of time in Bakersfield growing up, and wouldn't want it excised from me for nothin.
According to the article it was Yale students.
What? Shocking! Though extremely plausible!
Well, the second half of 241 stands.
w-lfs-n is this some kind of weird double-reverse dry humor kind of business on your part? Because.
242: by far the most ridiculously creative gay men I've ever known are all from Bakersfield, and all within a few years of age. Must have been something (*cough* superfund *cough*) in the water.*
* totally stole that joke from one of 'em.
239 is just awesome. I loves me Dwight, and I love that little opening guitar riff.
Oh, I think I'd actually heard about that, Mr 245, but I had forgotten.
Tonight's not my night.
247: And the lyrics are among the most kick-ass ever. Nails what the honk has in common with the illegal immigrant. As does the music, the apotheosis of tex-mex.
How many of you that sit and judge me
have ever walked the streets of Bakersfield.
Being from CA I'm sure you've already done this, but see Dwight live whenever you can.
Nails what the honk has in common with the illegal immigrant.
Shit, most decent country music does that just fine.
And no, I've never seen Dwight live. More's the pity.
Sifu, if you know Bfield folks pretty well, we *might* know some people in common. Shit, some of your friends and acquaintances might even have known my grandparents.
All my Bakersfield friends are between (a bit older than) your age and (a bit older than) my age, and gay men. So, sure, could be.
To be fair I haven't been to Bakersfield for like ten years. But Bakersfield == Stockton resolves to false. Stockton is Michoacan North. Stockton is Mexican barbecue in 100+ degree heat, with ice cream trucks getting drowned out by norteño blasted out of shitty speakers. Stockton is where my Mexican godmother is from, and she won't set foot in Bakersfield.
Stockton is different than Bakersfield, sure. But my point is that both places are despised by a lot of people, and they're both the valley.
I just informed two of my roommates that it was trash night, and they said, "Oh, dang, you're right. Good thing you always remember that!" and then went promptly to bed.
Going from a two-person house to a four-person house has greatly increased the "anonymous dish factor"—uh, nope, not mine. Which I guess should've been obvious, but it's kind of annoying.
Also, four people seem to use disproportionately more toilet paper than two. I am flummoxed.
Of course she's over fifty, and perhaps channeling my prejudices from the middle-aged isn't the best of ideas.
I think Bakersfield gave up the whole sundown town gig a while ago.
Bakersfield's actually crazy now. It's huge! Parts of it have gotten, like, gentrified and shit! Insane. But of course the Bfield I know is the kind of old Bfield, because I know it through my grandparents, may they rest in peace.
I'm totally wrong; Bakersfield wasn't a sundown town: it was Taft.
In other news, there's a town in Nevada still called Sundown Town. Boss!
Taft! Barstow! Shafter!
Ah, good times.
Also, btw, the scent is neither of crude nor of manure: Kern county smells like good dirt, peanut shells, cotton, and alfalfa. I love that smell.
That's the most disturbing thing to me. People are commuting from the Central Valley to the BA. As much as I instinctively dislike the honkies of the valley (no offense, B, please), I am more horrified by the idea of aspiring yuppies buying up properties in Manteca. Say what you will about the working white man of the central valley, but at least he has an ethos.
261: Central Valley to LA, too. Five dollar a gallon gas: let's get to it!
261: They're doing that because they can fucking afford to buy a house in the valley.
I like the valley people. Sure, a lot of them are racist and defensive as hell, but a lot of them are damn decent people, and even the racist ones often have a really sly sense of humor.
261: Also, most of the valley cities aren't about "the working white man" at all, and haven't been since before I was a kid. Hate to tell you.
Oh, those mischievous racists.
By far the oddest opinion I have heard you express, B.
"Sure, they're totally racist, but they're wry, you see."
Great little interlude in Vineland about valley crackers racing through tule fogs, beers in hand. Makes them sound more honorable than those racist-ass okies deserve.
Oh, snap! High fives, yacht club!
Gimme a break. First of all, my mom's entire fucking family is like that, and I'm awfully fond of a lot of them including my dittohead uncle who loves to bait me every chance he gets. And second, the racism of central valley farmers and shit (and for that matter of immigrants against other immigrant groups) is kind of strange: it's fucked up and objectionable, but it functions a little differently than the kind of patronizing or distant racism of middle-class midwestern whites and for that matter, middle-class california whites.
For one thing, you won't hear my racist uncles (and by the way, that whole "okie" shit is as bigoted as racism) whining about a good argument or pooh-poohing people for trolling them.
Well, okay, actually one of them you will, but that's not because he's racist, it's because he's become a rich smug Christian.
it's fucked up and objectionable
Mm hmm. Claim class warfare all you want, Ms. Zinn, but people who think that way pretty much need to get with the 21st century, however winning and old-timey they might be. On the other hand, we do need prison gangs.
Seriously, though, the thing that bothers me about "authentic" non-class-based racism is that it provides a handy cover for belligerent idiots with pointless grudges looking for somebody to hate on. There's nothing charming about it, and people who talk that way are not, in my opinion, in a situation where they can balance it out with their many other fine qualities.
Then, I'm a goddamn yankee elitist, so what right do I have, &c.
"okie" shit is as bigoted as racism
Yeah, okie lynching was a big problem, back in the day.
I'm not making some kind of bullshit "authenticity" argument, I'm just saying people are what they are.
And actually, beating the shit out of okies *was* a problem back in the day.
And fwiw, my folks weren't okies; they were farmers, and they'll bitch about the goddamn okie laborers as much as they'll bitch about the illegal immigrants. You need to read you a li'l valley history, Tweety.
"Beating the shit out of" is not, so far as I know, congruent with "killing by strangulation," but maybe I'm misinformed.
Seriously, are you really saying that the term "okie," admittedly a (mostly) mindlessly deployed pejorative, is as big a problem as (oh, I dunno) "nigger"? That an Okie rights movement, for instance, would have been the same kind of boon as the civil rights movement? Because (a) it seems like that's what you're saying, and (b) that's like seriously McVeigh level crazy.
272: yes, well, clearly I was just trying to bait you. When you're good, you're good.
I would like to read more valley history, though. More California history in general, for that matter. The most recent California history I'm really up on ends several million years ago.
Oh please, Californians. Nouveau racists, the lot of you, with no sense of tradition.
273: Now you're just making things up. Firstly, lynching is not the required proof of racism. Second, I didn't say that one term is as bad as another; I never even brought up language. And third, if you don't think that okie racism and crime--like a lot of the fucked-up shit we middle-class types associate with 'white trash'--doesn't come from the same poverty-based anti-social roots as a lot of fucked up ghetto culture, you're nuts.
274: I highly recommend Gerald Haslam, and not just because he's an old family friend. Though it doesn't hurt.
I never even brought up language
Okay, not true; I objected to the term okie, but my point wasn't about language as such, 'twas about marginalizing "trash" (and the argument, which is hardly new, that terms like "white trash" and "okie" are part of racism as much as slurs against people of color).
I never even brought up language
Okay, not true; I objected to the term okie, but my point wasn't about language as such, 'twas about marginalizing "trash" (and the argument, which is hardly new, that terms like "white trash" and "okie" are part of racism as much as slurs against people of color).
that whole "okie" shit is as bigoted as racism
Versus
I didn't say that one term is as bad as another; I never even brought up language
Leaves me puzzled.
Of course I think your uncles' racism comes from the same approximate class based roots as all the lets-you-and-him-fight immigrant close-mindedness. I alluded as much in 269.3. The problem is that - white descendants of immigrants being the dominant minority - it's way, way too easily hijacked by any asshole with a grudge and is thus, to me, the opposite of charming. However understandable it might, historically, be that poor whites are racist dickheads, it is wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong, and I'm not inclined to be charitable about it.
Jesus Christ, I did not mean to set off a shitstorm, Class Bitch. Let me get this clear: I am not prejudiced (that much) against valley people. To the extent that I am I am prejudiced, it's because they fucking beat me up because I was playing with my Mexican cousins when I was nine. But I know plenty of them, and yeah, they do tend to be decent. They are racist as hell (one of my friend's aunts has twin German shepherds named Adolph and, not Erwin, but Rommel), but those I know do actually have an ethos, apart from "wouldn't it be nice to live in CA?." Perhaps they don't conform to the stereotype of the working man, but they do actually work at actual shit wages, at things like call centers and QA.
And, I assumed the okie thing was a minor antiquated troll, like calling someone a monophysite or a Jacobin. If I offended, I apologise.
282: No, see, the point is that my mom's folks weren't poor (especially, except inasmuch as her parents were depression-era). They owned a pretty big farm until they retired to the city. My uncle isn't an okie, and he's just as bigoted against okies as you are (all my uncles and aunts are); he's a smart-as-shit college dropout Long Beach landlord with plenty of money (I think).
My dad's family, otoh, were college-educated upper middle class, and tended to skip right over folks like my grandparents and form friendships and alliances with smart-as-hell okies and Mexicans and blacks who, like them, were pushing success and mobility through education while my mom's folks were running around with chips on their shoulder about being as good and smart as those college-educated city folk (which they are, actually).
283: Not offended, and I was threatened with beatings because I had Mexican friends, too. I'm totally familiar with that working at shit wages stuff, both by whites and by tons and tons of Samoan and Filipino and Vietnamese and etc. immigrants. The valley's got a really weird thing going on with shitty-ass jobs and that western belief in fierce individualism, combined with that uniquely California hangup about talking a bunch of shit about what a hotshot you are all the time.
I had Mexican friends, too. I'm totally familiar with that working at shit wages stuff, both by whites and by tons and tons of Samoan and Filipino and Vietnamese and etc. immigrants
See? Your racism is all diluted and scattershot. Amateurs.
retired to the city
Hah, by which I mean Shafter. God, this whole valley discussion is totally making me regress.
No, see, the point is that my mom's folks weren't poor
Then it's utterly inexcusable.
I actually don't even really know what "okie" means, anymore, except that my (gloriously reinvented, queer) friend from Bakersfield described his people that way, somewhat ironically. Hard-working dirt-poor white immigrants with strong ties to organized labor and a taste for drink, drawn by circumstance to California? People like that sound awesome.
my mom's folks were running around with chips on their shoulder about being as good and smart as those college-educated city folk (which they are, actually)
This is exactly what bothers me about the kind of racism you describe. People cling to it as a cultural touchstone, even when it has absolutely no validity a/f/a their actual circumstances, and that makes it incredibly hard to eliminate, and incredibly dangerous, since it's unmoored from any underlying problems that might ever be fixed.
285: Heh, California racism is a bizarre thing, man. It's hard to keep all the players straight.
287: Sigh, okay, well, you'd hate my people then.
Dang I have some good California racism stories, but it would require presidentiality. Guess you'll have to miss out, suckers-who-don't-know-the-sordider-parts-of-my-past!
289: possibly. I don't begrudge you liking them, though.
290: B used to burn question marks on the lawns of Samoans.
It's hard to keep all the players straight.
I wouldn't exactly call w-lfs-n a player.
People cling to it as a cultural touchstone, even when it has absolutely no validity a/f/a their actual circumstances
See, but I think it does--or at least, it functions as a kind of scapegoat and inarticulate expression of a sense that their world is pretty much gone because of changes (largely urbanization, which is associated with people of color for most of us, not just overt racists) that they don't fully understand. Hence the pride in being uneducated, hence the resentment of big city elites, etc. And it's all tied up with a kind of vague resentment of the government for shifting resources/focus away from "heartland types" (farmers, little towns) to cities and college-educated salaried workers. The sense of cause/effect and solutions people like that feel is all wrong, but their sort of inchoate sense that somehow things like cities and immigration and the emergence of pretty successful individuals (via college educations and major class mobility) from the subgroups they're accustomed to thinking of as the labor class isn't entirely wrong.
292: Heh, no, I was the obviously-destined-for-college girl who was friends with the smart brown people and weirded out the white folks who had been slotted to stay in town and work as secretaries and bookkeepers. Although my dad's wife (whose daughter married a Samoan, actually, so there's this huge extended family of Samoans) totally has that weird "I can tell you were raised rich because you have a juicer" kind of thing going on w/r/t me. (Actually it was my sil's juicer, but inasmuch as "juicer" is a synechodoche for "PhD," that's not relevant.)
isn't entirely wrong.
Is too. Or at least, is vastly ignorant.
Point by point: not uneducated, not rural, government never did that, urbanization was hardly a product of "people of color," and finally and most importantly, about a hundred years earlier my ancestors thought the exact same thing about your ancestors as they got off the boat from Ireland or Germany or Bitchgenstein or wherever. It's the lament of the newly established, and it's always the same, and it's always inchoate and somehow admirable, and it's always flat wrong, and it always leads to bad, bad results. How awesome if we, as a nation, could finally get past it. How unlikely, but how awesome.
BitchJuice is bitter but expensive.
296: Sure, it's ignorant. And I completely agree that the nation should get past it. I think, though, that it's something we're not going to be able to get past as long as we're as fiercely devoted to the individualist belief as we are, because it means we just refuse to even think in terms of class or social subgroups and fall back on the "well, so and so should just work harder/make better decisions/etc" thing, and the people who are on the lower rungs of the ladder often believe that the most strongly.
297: Alas, no. But I want one!
300: wait, comity? Fuck. I call backsies!
One cannot determine the reactive properties of BitchJuice until it has been introduced into a given substance. Once introduced, the Juice becomes firm and unyielding. If other agents are introduced, BitchJuice may react explosively, yet will invariably retain its original shape. In the absence of reactive material, Bitch Juice will eventually revert to an inert state. This material is mostly harmless, but rare, and as such should be handled carefully.
By far the oddest opinion I have heard you express, B.
You haven't been paying attention, Sifu. B has a random opinion generator.
Also, four people seem to use disproportionately more toilet paper than two.
"Well, A didn't mind if I didn't wipe, but I don't know B and C that well".
I need to quit going to bed early.
