Shit off, you shitting shitter

Phew! What have I started? A heated debate, that's what!

Well, not really, but it'd be good to have a bit of controversy here once in a while. I mean, getting worked up about cast iron cookware that happens to be French and orange is one thing, but it's hardly going to bring the UN peacekeepers in. And we're not going to be worried about somebody starting a war on terror against me just because I start to use "Shit off, you shitting shitter" as my sign-off.

What we need here is somebody like good old Ryan J, or the Fanny Flyers to come by and inject some excitement, some exchanges of foul-fucking-mouthed insults, something to get me bashing my emotiboard REALLY FUCKING CUNTING HARD!!!! And I now have to go back through my tossing blog archive to find the links to all that shite. Buggering cocking bollocks....

Thank fuck for my good memory; makes it so much easier to find those old posts.

Anyway, I'm going to live dangerously and ask Blogworld to give me its opinion (valued or not) on the very emotive and controversial subject of:

Carpets in bathrooms/WCs

Now, I know that this could cause me a lot of trouble, but I think that people who read Cakesniffers feel comfortable enough not to feel intimidated and folk should feel at ease sharing their opinions with others. Don't worry, we're not going to get you!

I'll kick off, perhaps that's not that the best terminology, but anyway. Personally, I think people who have carpets in their bathrooms are off their fucking heads.

Bathrooms, and I'm talking the 3, 4 or 5 piece suite that includes the toilet here, are wet places. They can get wet because of water from baths, showers, hand basins: even in the bathroom of the most careful person, a carpet will become damp through steam alone, let alone drips from the sink, wet foot prints and drips from the shower and bath. And what happens when carpet gets wet? It starts to smell, badly and it also looks bloody rough after a short while.

However, much, MUCH worse than getting a bit of water onto a bathroom carpet is getting wee or other bodily exudates onto it. Now, I'm not going to embarrass myself by revealing what happened the other week when I found that I'd peed so hard that it had squirted under the toilet seat, down the outside of the bowl and onto the floor - that'd be too much, even for me - but I've heard tell of blokes who aren't particularly good at aiming for the toilet bowl from the standing position. Hence, it's inevitable that wee will get onto a bathroom floor at some stage in its life. How the fuck are you supposed to clean it up if you've got carpet down? You can't, over the years, your bathroom ends up stinking of piss. Dirty fuckers.

You know what people do? You know what have been invented for people with carpeted bathrooms who are a bit scared of wee dribble? Yes, the good old pedestal mat:

Lovely

The pedestal mat (they ALWAYS look like that) affords a means of protecting bathroom carpets from wee. Once they've had a good soaking, they can simply be shoved into the washing machine on a boil wash and hey presto! you can start again. Better to have two, just so you can have one down while the other is in the wash.

Fucking disgusting.

Come on then, how many people out there have carpets in their bathrooms? Are these the same people who extol the virtues of Le Creuset cookware? I wouldn't put it past them.

Scrubbers!


Connie update
She's home! Yay, yay, yay, yay, fucking yay ALMIGHTY! She had a pacemaker fitted yesterday and all is working well. She obviously has to take it easy for a couple of weeks and there'll be no more contact sports for her (!), but she should be fine. Yay! Again. We've just got to keep our eye on things and watch out for signs of infections around the wound site. This may come as a shock to non-UK people, but over here, our hospitals are having a terrible time with hospital acquired infections, many of which are resistent to antibiotics, so people who've had invasive procedures have to be very careful.

But apart from that, she seems OK. So fingers crossed, etc, etc, etc. Fingers crossed, because if anything happened to my mum I'd have to throttle my bloody dad, who has been driving me mental these past ten days. I was on the verge of stabbing him this evening. He just acts deliberately obtuse, never listens, and I end up repeating everything I say three and four times to the point when I'm screaming at him. He is also addicted to "Deal, no deal" (teatime TV show)and it's difficult to get him to do anything if it means interrupting his daily dose of this shite.

But now I'm calm.

Carry on till my day comes and then you'll be wishing for good health and happiness, cocks!