ARM Club 1/ARM_CLUB_CD.iso/contents/sillies/silly8/B/BachGirl

Text File | 1994-02-18 | 4KB | 61 lines

                    THE DEMISE OF A BACHELOR GIRL
                    ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
Do you remember the excitement of moving into your first batchelor flat?
Escaping the carefully laundered bosom of your family home, you were prepared
to put up with any amount of leaky plumbing, chugging water pipes that only
supplied cold water, just to taste freedom. So, despite the flock on the
wallpaper that turned out to be mildew, the landlord arriving every week not
just to collect the rent but to harvest the mushrooms under the beds... This
was LIVING. I seem to remember that first flat didn't smell too great either.
One visitor even offered a skunk as an air-freshener.

Now those days are over. My friends have all turned to matrimony and....
CLEANLINESS. They all seem to have moved into sparkling homes where the smell
of pine scented glades overpowers the odour of decaying socks... They do
their washing up after every meal, not when they run out of plates. The
people with whom I once shared cereal-encrusted bowls and damp patches had
all caught DOMESTICITY. But somehow I remained mysteriously immune.

I was a SLUT, always taking the easy way out, preferring to make a cup of
coffee just by running the hot tap over the instant granules. Why waste time
and energy boiling a kettle? I wore dresses and blouses with missing buttons
and only emptied bins when they fell over. In the depths of my capacious
handbag, lurked something nasty and mouldy wrapped in a napkin that has been
there since last New Year's Eve party. You know how it is .. You've yet to
unpack completely from last summers holiday, each bottle of washing up liquid
lasted forever and your cat was known to climb up on the table and sit,
looking well-pleased in the BUTTER. Yet I was never embarrassed by my
slovenliness. Never, that is, until eventually I tasted MATRIMONY.

I was gradually bringing my partner around to my way of thinking. All was
going well until we were burgled. The burglars, considerate enough to whip
round the living room with a duster and a can of Mr. sheen to wipe away their
fingerprints, left the room in a state of cleanliness like it had never known
before. If I'd known who they were I'd have invited them back weekly.

When the police went in the bedroom, there was a sharp intake of breath then:
"You'd better not come in here, you'll only upset yourself, its a terrible
mess." I hadn't the heart to confess that the bedroom was the only room left
unplundered! The heaps of clothes on the floor, the unmade bed, the half-open
drawers ... all my own SLUTTISH work! I was even more red faced when, a
couple of months later, I discovered the thieves had been cheeky enough to
steel my Hoover and I had to trundle down to the police station to report the
loss. "Been on holiday have you love?" Asked the kindly constable. "Umm...
that's right" I lied. I don't think that; "Neglected all my household chores,
in favour of sitting around shovelling spaghetti straight from the tin as I
watched Neighbours", would go down very well with his superiors. Who'd
believe him ? No, I wouldn't jeopardise the man's promotion chances, I'll go
with the flow and catch DOMESTICITY.

My partner, though, remains unconvinced. He's horrified by some of my time
saving tricks, particularly my practice of getting him to wash his socks in
the bath, and when he suggests removing them first, I have to point out that
rather defeats the object. I look forward to the day when there are car
washes for people so that you can step effortlessly on to a conveyor belt for
a quick wash without moving a muscle. But I'm still trying......

         BROUGHT TO YOU COURTESY OF JUSTIN EIDLEBURGER AND SPINEY,
                     MIKE AND MIKE HUMOUR INDUSTRIES,
                      ALIAS G1ERT AND G8AMG @ GB7AAA
*** EOF