There are more questions than answers

BLISS has some questions…

…to which I have no answers:

1. How come the cupboard under the sink, which exclusively provides storage for cleaning products, gets dirty?

and, on the same theme:

2. How come the shower enclosure that only ever comes into contact with water and water mixed with detergents gets dirty?

I have to admit that I know nothing about (1) because the furthest I ever delve into that cupboard is the dishwasher tablets and washing up liquid, and by moaning long and hard (tall bloke, old bloke, bad back and knees, bending down – you know the drill) I’ve wangled those items being berthed at the front, and that I’m as baffled on (2) as she is. How can bombarding something with washing stuff leave it dirtier than when you started?

A national epidemic…

…is raging. The do-gooders at the helm of our nanny state are banging on about obesity. But I think there’s something more urgent and sinister to address.

There’s an Aussie joke:

“Where does an Englishman hide his wallet?”

“Dunno, where does an Englishman hide his wallet?” [I’ve omitted the “I say, I say, I say”].

“Under the soap”.

There’s an increasingly large number of whiffy folk about. Something needs doing about it. There’s a time and a place, people. After physical work, on the field of play, that sort of thing’s fine. We don’t all carry inflatable showers and shampoo around with us.

But in the supermarket? Isn’t there a food hygiene issue here? Can’t the tubes and trains have a commuter smell-o-meter at the gates, and stick the stinkies together in the pongy carriage? Shouldn’t there be some sort of test before you’re allowed near fresh fruit and veg?

There’s endless bing-bong announcements about feet on seats and eating burgers. I’d rather get a bit of dirt on the arse of my trousers occasionally, and have the aroma of a whopper with cheese and fish and chips, than endure sitting near a sufferer of the epidemic.

GPs are trained to recognise the signature smell of some common complaints, can’t they write a prescription for some shower-gel and armpit spray, and stop it before we’re back to the bad old days and the Aussie joke’s based on reality?