I Like A Strict Dom
I chose "domestic goddess" as the group, it flashed up on the screen and the disappeared and I'm left with sub dom stuff.
This is the story of our washing machines, 25 years of washing machines in our house.
the first one was a second hand tiny twin tub that broke a lot and was sadly repaired equally as much, but it kept out clothes clean which is super important with babies, inevitably after 11 years it died of smoke exhilation, I think.
it was replaced by a new twin tub from "the lady" magazine, it was rubbish and needed frequent repairs and modification, but was at least the provider of the following story.
I had been helping my husband (John) with some conifer trees and got my top and shorts coverd in tree resin, John decided that insteadof throwing them away, petrol would soften the resin and then it would simply wash out, so he's in the bathroom doing the washing when all of a sudden there's a colossal explosion and some swearing, it turns out that the petrol vapour ignited and there was a small fire "but its all sorted out" then the washing machine stops and I can hear wet clothes being put on the spinner and then it happened, the first colossal explosion was knocked into insignificance by the second explosion that launched the contents of the bathroom shelf into the kitchen and slammed the door, also there was a lot more swearing and my now eyrbrowless husband staring at me as I entered saying "apparently there's a spark when you shut the lid" he was naked except for a silver chain with a pentagram on it, as he leant over the twin tub the chain wasn't against his chest, then the fireball lept out of the washer and removed his eyebrows and got the chain and pentagram hot enough to burn him as he was thrown back.
he continued to wash the petrol soaked clothes because "well it's all ok now" as if huge explosions were a normal part of washing clothes.
the next washing machine was a big American whirlpool affair, it's positively boring by comparison.
This is the story of our washing machines, 25 years of washing machines in our house.
the first one was a second hand tiny twin tub that broke a lot and was sadly repaired equally as much, but it kept out clothes clean which is super important with babies, inevitably after 11 years it died of smoke exhilation, I think.
it was replaced by a new twin tub from "the lady" magazine, it was rubbish and needed frequent repairs and modification, but was at least the provider of the following story.
I had been helping my husband (John) with some conifer trees and got my top and shorts coverd in tree resin, John decided that insteadof throwing them away, petrol would soften the resin and then it would simply wash out, so he's in the bathroom doing the washing when all of a sudden there's a colossal explosion and some swearing, it turns out that the petrol vapour ignited and there was a small fire "but its all sorted out" then the washing machine stops and I can hear wet clothes being put on the spinner and then it happened, the first colossal explosion was knocked into insignificance by the second explosion that launched the contents of the bathroom shelf into the kitchen and slammed the door, also there was a lot more swearing and my now eyrbrowless husband staring at me as I entered saying "apparently there's a spark when you shut the lid" he was naked except for a silver chain with a pentagram on it, as he leant over the twin tub the chain wasn't against his chest, then the fireball lept out of the washer and removed his eyebrows and got the chain and pentagram hot enough to burn him as he was thrown back.
he continued to wash the petrol soaked clothes because "well it's all ok now" as if huge explosions were a normal part of washing clothes.
the next washing machine was a big American whirlpool affair, it's positively boring by comparison.
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46-50, F
