Rubber Gloves. And Lysol.
by Christopher Taylor
Three windows. A hairpiece. Seven eggs. Two loaves of bread. Meat. A dustpan.
Never sneeze into pudding.
Two buckets. Never mix cleaning agents. A mop. No brooms. Brooms leave scratches. One garbage can for every room. It is simply practical.
A wardrobe. A refrigerator with wheels. Two beds. Two bedrooms. One inhabitant. Bedding for each bed, plus extras just in case. Closet for clothing. Closet for storage. Extra bedding and winter clothes kept in storage until needed. Two telephones, one in bedroom, one in kitchen.
Most accidents happen in the kitchen.
Living room unnecessary. Television in bedroom. Laptop computer for versatility. No desktop. Sofa in living room. Always maintain cushion stiffness. Clock in living room set fifteen minutes fast. No other clocks in house except phone and microwave. Answering machine for screening calls. No cell phones. Cell phone use increases radiation which increases cancer. Turn off all machines when not in use. Limit machine use to twice per day, more is unnecessary and impractical.
Science is correct. Gravity is a constant, except when dealing with minute objects.
Diseases do not wish to kill, but may do so anyway. Disinfect house daily, more frequently if necessary. Disinfection is necessary. Toilets are a necessary evil, as are robots. A proper house has two toilets. One is for personal use, and guests should never see it. Plungers are required next to every toilet; to fail in this regard is irresponsible and irrational.
Spiders should not be seen nor heard. Pets are an abomination.
Eight rolls of toilet paper per bathroom. Four roles of paper towels. Four clean washcloths kept in the kitchen. Dish washers are redundant. Three types of soap is appropriately cautious. Any more is showing off. Dishes should be cleaned immediately after sullyment.
Independent study is a gift of God. Blogging is the most reasonable of all online social interaction.
Do not overestimate the power of idiots.
Two men. Two tall men. One hairpiece. Twenty dirty fingers. One case of sever halitosis. Two brown suits. Two hats. Two smiles. One product. Robot. Cleaning robot. Automatic vacuum.
Vacuums are a necessary evil. Incinerators work best.
Two boxes of Kleenex. A new surgical mask after every meal. Plumbers are not to be trusted. Better to live with plumbing than cholera. Bald robotic vacuum salesmen should not be allowed in the house. Robotic vacuum salesmen are named Roger Hammersmith. Twelve sales is a good number.
Thirteen is optimal. Thirteen is significant. It portends good things or bad. Luck is a state of mind. Ghosts are not real. Germs are the real terror.
Vacuum salesmen carry germs as well as robots. Robots do not get sick, but may carry germs. The only solution is rubber gloves. And Lysol.
Christopher Taylor studies Creative Writing at Utah Valley University. He write’s for fun and hopes to someday do so for money as well.
Richard Edwards has a BFA in Creative Writing and Journalism from Bowling Green State University and an M.S. in Education from the University of Akron. Managing editor of Drunk Duck, poetry editor for Prairie Margins, reporter for Miscellany, Akron Journal, Lorain Journal, and The BG News. He has also worked as a professional writer and editor in the medical publishing industry for several years. For the last 15 years Richard has also taught literature and writing at the secondary and post-secondary levels. He works much of the time with at-risk students.