The wonders of clean.

I have this terrible obsession with bleach. If my nose isn't burning, it ain't clean.

I don't know where it started or even how I became obsessed. When I used to work at the fun bar at college (I really need a good nickname for that place), I always was picked to clean the bathrooms. Of course being a bar bathroom and God only knows what germs procured in there...so I doused the entire place with bleach. It took about 30 minutes before anyone could go in either bathroom.

Now, it's carried over to when I scrub my own bathroom, kitchen, even floors. Every cleaner I have contains bleach. I had a buddy laugh at me after coming into a room I just scrubbed down and spout off "Whelp, It's definitely Facker Clean." Of course me being ignorant, "What the hell is Facker Clean?"

Response..."Bleach"

Ahhh...

My beloved cat used to follow me around when I went on a cleaning spree. She would just roll around the spot I just sprayed down with bleach. I think that stemmed from her childhood addiction of pot...way before me...and catnip just didn't quite give her what she was craving. So, bleach made the cut.

I look at my cat now and he stares at me funny and runs away with his tail held high. God, he's a brat.