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This is a question How clean is your house?

"Part of my kitchen floor are thick with dust, grease, part of a broken mug, a few mummified oven-chips, a desiccated used teabag and a couple of pieces of cutlery", says Sandettie Light Vessel Automatic. To most people, that's filth. To some of us, that's dinner. Tell us about squalid homes or obsessive cleaners.

(, Thu 25 Mar 2010, 13:00)
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When visiting a friend's house
it was not uncommon to be asked by their mum to remove my shoes so as not to get the new carpets dirty. A little fussy but fair enough, I suppose.

The one that still sticks in my mind to this day though is the one boy who lived in a house where the three piece suite was still in it's protective celophane wrapping every time I went there. Perhaps they were planning to use it for a few years then sell it "as new"?

If I'd just shelled out a few hundred quid on a sofa I'd at least want to sit on the fucker.
(, Thu 25 Mar 2010, 14:09, Reply)
When my brother was ten we decided to tidy his room out.
In the bottom of one cupboard was my lunchbox from when I was in reception, six years previously. It had flapjack in it. Surprisingly, flapjack doesn't change all that much over the years, but it does weld itself to plastic amazingly well. And go slightly furry.
(, Thu 25 Mar 2010, 14:03, 1 reply)
If you're at a friend's house and you're the sort of person who has to ask...
It's mayonnaise. Always mayonnaise. Nothing disgusting here, no.
(, Thu 25 Mar 2010, 13:59, Reply)
Many, many years ago (1983) when I was a student in Newcastle I lived in a house on Westgate Road here and I used to throw old kebab wrappers behind the wardrobe in my bedroom (seemed like a good idea after several pints of 80 shilling).

One night I was lying in bed and could hear something rustling - it was the mice eating the grease saturated kebab wrapper. I found the holes the bastards were using and blocked them up with crushed Marlboro packets.

Never did get rid of the kebab wrappers.
(, Thu 25 Mar 2010, 13:57, Reply)
Slugs for the win!
(, Thu 25 Mar 2010, 13:56, 2 replies)
Tea towels.
Why do people own tea towels? They're disgusting clothy havens of germs. What's wrong with leaving dishes to drip dry? Why would I want to wipe a freshly scrubbed saucepan with a rectangle of fabric that's been draped over a chair gathering grime, that people have dried their hands on, that's been slung over someone's shoulder when cooking and that's covered in food stains and grot?

Air dry ftw. Same principle apparently applies to genitals.
(, Thu 25 Mar 2010, 13:50, 13 replies)
I lived in really dodgy private halls which was actually a bad boys home that'd been taken over by a dodgy letting agent.
Basically it was a 30 bedroom house surrounded by bars that'd been given to a bunch of students, the place was absolutely disgusting and the cleaner quit a couple weeks in and wasn't replaced.
About 3 weeks after I moved in, and due to my room being minus a lock and useable window, I was moved in to one of my friends rooms (who'd upgraded himself to an ensuite).
The room had a sink in it.
Into the sink Owen had shaved his hair and then before bothering to clean this out, been sick.
Then he'd moved.
Leaving me with a lovely sinkful of hairy sick.
It's not easy to convince hairy sick to go down the plughole.
(, Thu 25 Mar 2010, 13:47, Reply)
tenuously related, but I'll go ahead anyway
a friend of mine was telling me how disgusting her ex-boyfriend was when she was living with him. After generic tales of slovenly habits and an obvious aversion to cleaning products and practices of any kind, she told me a tale that really took the biscuit.

They were having their bathroom redecorated and so it was covered in dust sheets and the like. One day, whilst she was out, he needed to take a whizz, but rather than go to the effort of uncovering the toilet, he decided to go in the kitchen. Alas, the sink was full of dirty dishes. When my friend was telling me this, she sighed and said "any normal bloke would surely have just gone outside and peed in the garden", but no, not this guy.

He pissed in her kettle. IN HER KETTLE.

When she got home and discovered this, she was obviously shocked, disgusted and also a little confused. She pointed out to him the many other solutions to his problem that he could have chosen, least of all would be to use one of the glasses that was out on the side. His response to this was to say "but we only had wine glasses and they don't hold very much, I thought if you came home to find 6 wine glasses full of piss on the table you might be a bit cross".
(, Thu 25 Mar 2010, 13:47, Reply)
I was very untidy as a teenager
to the point where my slightly OCD father christened me "radar feet" in homage to my ability to traverse my clothes covered bedroom floor without seemingly moving anything or tripping over.
(, Thu 25 Mar 2010, 13:45, Reply)
My house is dirty.
Yesterday i caught it fingering a kestrel
(, Thu 25 Mar 2010, 13:45, 4 replies)
There are going to be a lot of answers this week saying that they are clean, but not tidy. how do you clean a house without tidying it? do you lift your random shit off the kitchen sides, clean everything and put it back? Cleaning around stuff doesn't count. You still live in filth.

(, Thu 25 Mar 2010, 13:44, 3 replies)
Well, put it this way..
If those two bints off 'How Clean Is Your House' came round, they'd probably leave with a 'meh'.
(, Thu 25 Mar 2010, 13:44, 2 replies)
My wife is like Howard Hughes
She just sold my car to buy a new dining table because the other one attracted dust. The place is spotless. My daughter is only just two and already sweeps the living room floor and tidies up her own toys.
(, Thu 25 Mar 2010, 13:39, 5 replies)
My house is clean. Untidy, but clean.
You could lick the floor if you wanted to and you probably wouldn't die. I consider that a good metric of cleanliness.
(, Thu 25 Mar 2010, 13:34, 4 replies)
I'm a messy midden head.
It drives my dear dad up the wall. All day long I am constantly berated by his frustration at not having the dishes washed immediately or a plate not being moved or a speck of minute dust floating past his eyes which is apparently my fault as I'm the eldest and it's "his bloody house".

My room has a passage way to my bed between two mountains of things. A pile of some of my art supplies on one side, a giant box of.... something or other with all my clothes piled on top on the other. I am messy and lazy. A hearty procrastinator.

My parents go on holiday a lot. EVERY TIME they step out the door I have a wee celebration of liberation in my head, jump about happily leaving bread crumbs on the counters and tea stains where my cup shoogles. Ten minutes later, directed at my siblings or anyone close by:





(, Thu 25 Mar 2010, 13:33, Reply)
Moving my bed to get my suitcase out from under it
I noticed some odd dark brown stains on the originally white but now yellowing skirting board. Scratching at them with a fingernail, I manage to lift some dried stuff off.

Then I remember that after a night out when I first moved in, I barfed up a gutful of Guinness.

Must've missed a bit when I "cleaned it up". In July 1996.*blush*
(, Thu 25 Mar 2010, 13:31, Reply)
I broke my arm three weeks ago playing rugby
I live on my own.

My house is filthy.

But now I have a valid excuse.
(, Thu 25 Mar 2010, 13:30, 2 replies)
Well, I've been meaning to vacuum - and I've noticed after 6 months or so the amount of dust doesn't seem to increase (forms a protective layer too).
(, Thu 25 Mar 2010, 13:26, 3 replies)
A friend of mine, Claire, hooked up with a fella in a club and went back to his place for some no-strings genital interplay.
While he takes a romantic pre-shag piss, Claire looks in the kitchen and notices a big pile of turd on the floor just near the fridge. Imagine Stonehenge had collapsed in on itself, was brown, and made of shit. This is the site that assailed her eyes. If the monumental shit was any bigger it would’ve required planning permission and a ski lift to reach its summit.

When the bloke returned moments later minus a bladder full of piss my mate remarked: “Where is it? It’s not gonna jump out at me, I really don’t want that.” For a moment I’m sure this fella thought my friend was referring to his cock, but when he noticed the tone and slightly disgusted look on Claire’s face he just stood there looking a little gormless. Claire explained: “I don’t like dogs. Just to let you know.”

And the bloke said: “Dogs? I haven’t got a dog.”

My mate was in a taxi home in about fifteen seconds flat.
(, Thu 25 Mar 2010, 13:21, 2 replies)
First proper story then
Our house is fantastic. Mum, Dad and me moved in, intending to get it done up. Got halfway, then little sister turned up. Then two brothers...
This has given a very rough and ready appearance, which is fantastic when you love oily old machinery.
Highlights include:

Storing a small petrol engine in my room to try and dry the magneto out. Sat by my bed for a couple of years

Bikes in the kitchen on several occasions

Rebuilding the front end of a motorcycle in my room, then Dad helping me down the stairs.

Best bit is, Mum and Dad don't mind as long as I don't make a mess! but then it is from them I inherited my love of machinery.
Another...ahem...interesting...feature of this desirable residence is the amount of books we have. It would appear our house is home to the paramilitary wing of the British library.
So to sum up, here is a 1970 BSA bantam with freshly attached front end being manhandled down the stairs. Note the wall of books behind us. Very bottom is the sci-fi stuff-Anne McCaffrey, Heinlein, Clarke, LeGuin, Andre Norton, all neatly arranged. Still need to extend it to fit Micheal Moorcock in too :D
(, Thu 25 Mar 2010, 13:17, 6 replies)
Oh yes
The second worst thing I heard of (again not seen thankfully) was a fresher who shat in their sink, rather than find a bathroom. That has to be a new low. Talk about not shitting where you eat
(, Thu 25 Mar 2010, 13:17, 6 replies)
I always thought of myself as being fairly tidy while I was at home. Got annoyed at the constant moaning of parents saying 'tidy this up. Your room is disgusting etc etc.' When I went to university I acquired the faintest understanding of how they saw me.

I am pretty bad. My bedroom will always be clean, though not always tidy, laundry is generally filed neatly on the floor for example, but my living room was a bit of a disaster especially after recycling was introduced and our scouts (college cleaners) weren't supposed to help us recycle. There were probably one or two mugs that had more mould than coffee in them, and the carpet was stained with gin mixed with Lucozade, and the fridge stained with teabags on top.

However compared to some people I knew I was wonderfully clean. If cleanliness was next to Godliness, I was a saint in their eyes. It's one thing having a mug with mould in it, another being sick in your sink and allowing mould to grow on that as an acquaintance in another college had done. Keeping clean laundry on your floor is different to keeping dirty laundry on your floor and letting people wade through it, or covering it with a filthy dressing-gown.

I think however the most disgusting thing I have ever heard of, was not something I had witnessed myself. My room-mate told me of someone she knew who had left period pads on the radiator to dry in the bathroom. Turned face down i.e. leaving stains
(, Thu 25 Mar 2010, 13:15, Reply)
and its a brand new house so yes... it is clean.....
(, Thu 25 Mar 2010, 13:15, Reply)
I hoovered at the weekend
And changed my bedclothes.

Thats about it.
(, Thu 25 Mar 2010, 13:14, Reply)
Clean enough.
Why do you ask?
(, Thu 25 Mar 2010, 13:10, Reply)
I cleaned my room last week.
Filled 3 bin bags with rubbish.
(, Thu 25 Mar 2010, 13:10, Reply)
New question, please.
(, Thu 25 Mar 2010, 13:04, 1 reply)
Woo hoo!
(, Thu 25 Mar 2010, 13:04, 1 reply)
Story to follow. Probably.
(, Thu 25 Mar 2010, 13:03, 4 replies)

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