It is troubling that people still have so much trouble determining the proper use of towels in this day and age. A towel is the most "massively useful thing an interstellar hitchhiker can have", but this does not mean that we can abuse its many functions to make up for our laziness or even lack of common sense. The following is a list of what towels are NOT.
A) A towel is NOT a napkin.
I know it can be tempting to use the closest thing at hand when your fingers are dripping with orange-red barbeque sauce, but a napkin (cloth or paper) works perfectly well! In fact, that's what napkins are for! Next time you have something dribbling from your food-inhaling face, try washing it before wiping it off with a towel. Your washing machine will thank you for it!
B) A towel is NOT a carwash rag.
It is frighteningly rude to use a pristine white bath towel (normally reserved for drying off human bodies) to wash your bug-splattered vehicle. Do you use bath towels at home to wash your car? If so, how long before your wife decides that she's had enough and tries to smother you with the towels you've ruined with the soapy remains of deceased insects? Towels are for bodies, rags are for two-tonne modes of transportation.
C) A towel is NOT a doormat.
Doormats are made of tough materials that allow you to scrape off excess dirt from your shoes before you enter a house or a building. Towels - amazing as they are - are sadly inadequate for this task and cannot withstand the rough motions you make with your sand-filled shoes. And what are you doing with shoes on in the house anyway? Oh, you silly Westerners!
D) A towel is NOT a makeup remover pad.
A towel is handy for wiping off excess moisture after swimming or a shower. The tiny loops in the terrycloth provide pleasant abrasion for your skin as you dry off, but this should not be the only method of removing layers of caked-on makeup that you applied for some reason when you decided to go to the beach this morning. For an effective makeup removal, use a good quality makeup remover solution along with a disposable quilted cotton pad. This should prevent the housekeeper of your favourite inn from having a nervous breakdown and soaking your next change of towels in undiluted chlorine bleach. No one wants a chemical burn!
Next, we will review the proper use of a towel.
Step 1: Place self in bathtub/shower stall/waterfall/body of clean water.
Step 2: Wash self. All dirt should be removed from body.
Step 3: Dry self using a towel.
Step 4: If there are dirt smudges on towel, repeat from Step 1.
Unless you are completely inept at washing yourself, you should have nothing on your towel except for water and the occasional hair. If you DO have dirt on your towel even after the most thorough washing, then you have my sympathy, as you've obviously fallen into a tar pit recently. Good luck with that.
Remember everyone! Towels are our friends.
This message was brought to you by the Society of Keep the Towels Clean Unless You Want Me to Stomp on Your Face Like the Cast of Riverdance.
Thursday, July 31, 2008
Wednesday, July 23, 2008
A laundry room conversation on Day 30 in Wiarton
Dasol: This is a ton of laundry we have to fold.
Judy: Excuse me, I'm trying to get VOMIT stains out of these bedsheets without burning the skin off my fingers, so please, shut your hole and keep folding.
Dasol: Why did he vomit?
Judy: I'm no CSI, but from the overwhelming smell of stale booze in the room and a bunch of empty beer bottles, I'd say he had a bit too much last night.
Dasol: That's weak.
Judy: Not everyone can drink a lot, you know.
Dasol: You should know when to stop.
Judy: On the bright side, it's a good thing that he didn't die from alcohol poisoning in the bed.
Dasol: We wouldn't have to clean it up, you know.
Judy: Right, because THAT's what I'm worried about when a person dies in one of our rooms.
Judy: Excuse me, I'm trying to get VOMIT stains out of these bedsheets without burning the skin off my fingers, so please, shut your hole and keep folding.
Dasol: Why did he vomit?
Judy: I'm no CSI, but from the overwhelming smell of stale booze in the room and a bunch of empty beer bottles, I'd say he had a bit too much last night.
Dasol: That's weak.
Judy: Not everyone can drink a lot, you know.
Dasol: You should know when to stop.
Judy: On the bright side, it's a good thing that he didn't die from alcohol poisoning in the bed.
Dasol: We wouldn't have to clean it up, you know.
Judy: Right, because THAT's what I'm worried about when a person dies in one of our rooms.
Monday, July 21, 2008
I ache everywhere.
My brother's really good at fitness training and he used to train some of his friends in martial arts calisthenics. He's slacked off a bit lately though and I find that the best way of convincing him to work out is to ask him to train with me, which is a bit of a sacrifice on my part, because I hate exercise.
But Dasol says it should be a piece of cake for someone who is naturally flexible like me. Uh, sure. *shifty eyes* My legs move, at best, 140 degrees apart and when he tried to push it further, I burst into tears.
So I've been learning basic boxing moves and taekwondo kicks, because I could use better self defense techniques than the ones we learned back in grade 9 gym.
Self defense expert: For you to use this move, your attacker must be sitting on your stomach with his hands around your neck.
Us: Shouldn't we also learn how to prevent ourselves from getting into that position?
Self defense expert: ...
It's much more fun than crunches, pushups and leg raises, that's for sure. One day, I'll be able to smack someone silly with my right hook.
Today was the first time we did dodging exercises to become faster at movement. I was supposed to dodge my brother's hand from side to side. He bonked my face so much that I eventually had to take off my glasses. T_T
Then we started the different punches and combinations. I put so much force into a right cross that I wrenched something in my hip. Or at least, I think so. My brother kept insisting that it was normal to feel knives jabbing into my hip bone everytime I move my leg. Jerk. We tried doing crunches and back raises, but it hurt so much that we had to stop. Instead, I taught my brother some yoga moves and he had to admit that it was more difficult than he thought. Then I went for a swim.
I don't know what it is about Wiarton that's making me so intent on working out. My dad suggested that it might be the fresh air. I think that it's simply Wiarton and there is just nothing else to do. I mean, I can't watch the Food network all day, right? Even though I love the cake challenges and the Quebecois dude who cooks for his "friends". I should really finish up the book, however. On the other hand, there isn't much left to do, except for the cover, for which I definitely need other people's opinions. And French. I should work on that too.
It's been 31 days in Wiarton already. I'm on my way back to being somewhat fit, so for the next month, I will also work on:
1) THE Book
2) French
3) Reading in general
But Dasol says it should be a piece of cake for someone who is naturally flexible like me. Uh, sure. *shifty eyes* My legs move, at best, 140 degrees apart and when he tried to push it further, I burst into tears.
So I've been learning basic boxing moves and taekwondo kicks, because I could use better self defense techniques than the ones we learned back in grade 9 gym.
Self defense expert: For you to use this move, your attacker must be sitting on your stomach with his hands around your neck.
Us: Shouldn't we also learn how to prevent ourselves from getting into that position?
Self defense expert: ...
It's much more fun than crunches, pushups and leg raises, that's for sure. One day, I'll be able to smack someone silly with my right hook.
Today was the first time we did dodging exercises to become faster at movement. I was supposed to dodge my brother's hand from side to side. He bonked my face so much that I eventually had to take off my glasses. T_T
Then we started the different punches and combinations. I put so much force into a right cross that I wrenched something in my hip. Or at least, I think so. My brother kept insisting that it was normal to feel knives jabbing into my hip bone everytime I move my leg. Jerk. We tried doing crunches and back raises, but it hurt so much that we had to stop. Instead, I taught my brother some yoga moves and he had to admit that it was more difficult than he thought. Then I went for a swim.
I don't know what it is about Wiarton that's making me so intent on working out. My dad suggested that it might be the fresh air. I think that it's simply Wiarton and there is just nothing else to do. I mean, I can't watch the Food network all day, right? Even though I love the cake challenges and the Quebecois dude who cooks for his "friends". I should really finish up the book, however. On the other hand, there isn't much left to do, except for the cover, for which I definitely need other people's opinions. And French. I should work on that too.
It's been 31 days in Wiarton already. I'm on my way back to being somewhat fit, so for the next month, I will also work on:
1) THE Book
2) French
3) Reading in general
Tuesday, July 8, 2008
I have tan lines on my butt.
Yes, that's right. Tan lines on my butt.
I've been swimming everyday in my outdoor pool in Wiarton and apparently, for a person who normally shrinks away from sunlight like a vampire, it means that your butt becomes two-toned. Like vanilla ice cream with mocha swirls.
I just compared my butt to ice cream. This post is getting more uncomfortable by the minute. I'll stop right here and make myself some macaroni.
Dasol, my pseudo-trainer, assures me that the five-pound weight gain is from building muscle mass. Muscle? Me? Judy of the Bendy Fingers? O_O
I've been swimming everyday in my outdoor pool in Wiarton and apparently, for a person who normally shrinks away from sunlight like a vampire, it means that your butt becomes two-toned. Like vanilla ice cream with mocha swirls.
I just compared my butt to ice cream. This post is getting more uncomfortable by the minute. I'll stop right here and make myself some macaroni.
Dasol, my pseudo-trainer, assures me that the five-pound weight gain is from building muscle mass. Muscle? Me? Judy of the Bendy Fingers? O_O
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