Happiness and Vacuum Cleaners

Vacuum cleaners:  How can you not like them?  They're even spelled in a sexy way.  Two "u"'s! Why?  Who cares?  It's just boss that it has two u's in the name: one for you and one for me.

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I'll tell you what, I like them even more once I got a cat.  Aside from waking me up at 6am in the morning for no good reason (playing with my face)—her second favorite thing to do is litter my floor, furniture, curtains, ceiling (not sure how that works), couch, studio desk, with her hair.  

Yes, I brush her.  It doesn't help. 

I am as excited about this vacuum cleaner, as I was about receiving Optimus Prime for Christmas from my parents when I was seven years old.  It's even red like Optimums Prime.  Can't you see the resemblance?  It's uncanny (use you imagination; the picture is in black white, people).

For what Optimus Prime lacks in suck, this vacuum cleaner makes up for.  It's a Dirt Devil.  It's got Reach, and not just by manufacturer name.  It could play pro ball, but doesn't want to because it's an inanimate object—that is unless I'm pushing it around, ridding my floor of the bane of my existence: cat hair.  It reaches under my couch (sort of).

It has attachments.

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It has wheels, just like Optimus.  It's fucking cool.  That's what I'm trying to say.

Okay, yeah I know.  I'm officially old.  I am excited about a vacuum cleaner.  More to the point, I'm excited that my socks are not riddled with feline reminders of her hard work and effort spreading herself about the house.  It's a full-time job for my cat.

My other option was to shave my cat, but that would be ridiculous... or would it?

Stay tuned.

- Mike