Jan. 27th, 2009

terribleturnip: (percy)
Hey, you know when you're a guest in someone else's house and they have those things, sitting on the top of the toilet tank, or on the side of the sink and they look like paper dinner napkins -- usually a pretty print?

Yeah, they're called guest towels. You're supposed to use them to dry your hands. Sure, you can use the hand towel -- but the thought is, with a bunch of guests all at once, it's more sanitary, or more guaranteed to give you a dry option, than the cloth towel hanging there.

Go ahead, use the cloth hand towel. Especially when there's just a small group of us. But, please, go ahead and use the guest towels. I've had the same batch of 25 guest towels sitting there for over a year now. Criminy, they're not part of the decor.

(For those of you who've been at the house recently, this is NOT aimed at you - was chewing the fat with a co-worker and she got to complaining how she'd had a big dinner party and not a single person had used the guest towels...which was bad enough until she looked over at the bar of soap in the soap dish, halfway through the night and realized it was totally dry. As in, no one had used it. All night long. She spent the rest of the night trying to keep herself from running around and sanitizing things that people had touched.)

Personally, that's why I use pump soap. So that I can remain in denial about whether people are using it or not. Although now someone knows that his comment about "I could just eat that soap, I love it" gave me more thrills than a simple "I like your taste in stuff".


Jan. 27th, 2009 02:04 pm
terribleturnip: (percy)
Helpless in the face of mango. Helpless. Assuming that someone else has peeled and cut it for me, I will eat it until it's gone. I will eat it until my stomach is raw and upset, my mouth is full of canker sores, until the only way to get more is to haul my fat butt out to the store to get more.

Only the fact that it's usually fairly expensive keeps me from becoming an orange version of Violet Beauregarde.

Damn you, Trader Joe's.
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