How Many Blondes Does It Take to Shampoo Carpets?

I decided to shampoo my carpets and probably should have read the instructions first before just shampooing Piss-boy’s room.

After an hour I'm thinking that the stains are just too much for it, and I’m beginning to wonder why I thought this machine was so great to begin with. I used up nearly all the water also, and had very little in the return tank. I drag the machine back into the laundry room as the bird squawks at me as though mocking me. I remove the measuring cup from where it sits inside the machine, and spill rug juice all over the laundry room floor. I suppose that means that the rug juice was actually supposed to go inside the tank.

I refill the tank, with the new cup of rug juice inside the tank, and return to Piss-boy’s room. The floor is pretty wet, but we trudge on, and this time the stains are coming up quickly, as I breathe a sigh of relief, but there is still very little water in the return tank. I look at the plate in front of the machine; it’s loose (probably should have checked that before I started shampooing in the first place). I firmly hit it with my hand, and it quickly snaps into place, then try the machine again. The water is literally pouring out of the carpet now into the return tank. I take another hour to finish the room.

After shampooing the hallway upstairs, and Rainbird’s and my bedroom, including the ugly shit stain still on the carpet from when Fredo was going through his I’m shitting on the floor or in a garbage can phase, I feel like I’ve accomplished something. I bask in the joy of clean carpets. That is until I go downstairs.

In the dining room Dumbass, who had the shits from eating tons of grass, took a shit there, it was slimy, with grass in it. “Ohmyfuckingod!” I scream out. In the laundry room upstairs the bird again squawks loudly in that same mocking tone, as I do the one thing I’d hoped to completely avoid, and begin dragging the machine down the stairs. I quickly do the stain in the dining room just as Rainbird and company returns.

An hour later Fredo comes and tells me that the light in my bathroom is out—it’s been out forever, and I make a mental note that it’s out of toilet paper also. An hour after that, Piss-boy tells me that Fredo used my bathroom to go poop, and got shit on the floor, because he used a paper towel to wipe. Now, maybe I’m wrong but I would think that if someone says something that way, it means there is a little shit on the linoleum. No, it’s on the carpet, nearby the old stain! Again, I scream out OMFUCKINGOD!

The bird squawks and I go downstairs and drag the fucking cleaner back up the stairs again and clean that floor AGAIN. How the hell does he do that???? The toilet area is a good 6 feet or more from where the stain was…how the hell does that happen??????

What the hell is wrong with him? Yes, I asked him but he couldn’t answer. I told him not to use my bathroom anymore, we’ll see if he listens to that.

Random Acts of Blondeness

I went to the store to get avocados for dinner last night; I was going to use them on the burgers and side dishes. Grabbed a bunch of things, but forgot the avocados, went back through the line a second time, but then remembered I promised the kids we’d make s’mores one day this week, grabbed that stuff and forgot the avocados yet again. I kept going through the same checkout line and the lady asked me, what no avocados?

The third time, I remembered them.

I got gas and parked on the wrong side (my gas thingy is on the driver’s side), then I turned and pulled into a different area, and did the same thing again.

Blonde Joke of the Day

Did you hear about the near-tragedy at the mall?

There was a power outage, and twelve blondes were stuck on the escalators for over four hours.

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