Welcome to part 2 of our Christmas special. Our review of ‘The Daddy’, Domestos. Yesterday in part 1, we were interrupted by having to attend a tea party at the vicar’s house in Disley
A serious sexual assault
We had a lovely time in Disley. For our foreign readers (and we’re not at all like that awful Mr Farage; if you love cleaning, we love you, wherever you are from*), Disley is a delightful little town just outside Manchester which is the unofficial capital of England.
The highlight of the time at the vicar’s tea party was secretly pushing Ms Tonic as we walked behind her, so it looked as if she had spontaneously decided to carry out an unprovoked sexual assault on an elderly man called Mr Barry.
It was hilarious! His face, as she approached him! It was quite the picture we can tell you. A mixture of fear and resignation.
We say ‘unprovoked’. Can a sexual assault ever be provoked? Who knows. Who cares, even? Lets face it, in the world of cleaning, sexual assault is irrelevant.
Having said that we do remember reading a true crime magazine where it said professional rapists make their victims bathe in bleach. Were we to go down this unsavoury route, We’d use Zoflora Country Garden, the gentlest of the Zofloras. We would feel the situation warranted kindness. But we expect the grim faced professionals use Domestos.
Before we go on with our Christmas Special, we feel we should make explicit something which hopefully was implicit in the paragraph above. We would never, never become a rapist, professional or even amateur. We do hope that is clear.
Having said that, Domestos in this situation was probably the best choice. As we learned yesterday, it does not fuck around.
Who remembers the adverts? Yes you do, of course you do. They had 2 things in common:
1) that scary voice
2) that scary voice saying ‘kills’ in ‘kills all known germs dead’
Look at the way the bleach goes down the plughole. Isn’t it glorious? We could watch that for hours.
Perhaps the professionals are on to something after all. That would wipe out traces, if you know what we mean.
This is getting very dark. Let’s lighten the mood!
The day before we put our christmas tree down, we deep clean. This is a fantastic part of christmas. The songs on youtube, the mop, the hoover, the dust and the domestos. The bloody tree is going to clog up the space and dust will gather beneath the trinkets and the cards.
As an aside, we loathe christmas cards. They’re so obsolete. Why not just send an email or a text? What does getting a piece of cardboard with a watercolour of someone trudging through snow in a sparse wintery wood even mean?) Yes, christmas is despicable. Boring adverts for sofa sales. Bins will overflow. People will come round and sit.
The true cleaner knows Christmas is the darkest of the seasons, with limited time to clean. And so, with our backs to the metaphoric wall and our hands behind our metaphoric head, and to be clear we are no longer talking about rape here, we bring out the domestos.
The smell of it is such a comfort. So uncompromising. It’s like being saved at the last minute. Pitiless aroma of bleach. We love it. So we cleaned and we inhaled and we went to the vicar’s with nothing at all to hide. Domestos is twice as strong as the average bleach, according to Wikipedia (although we do believe some scamp from Unilever inserted that bit themselves as a subtle advert), and the extra strength is present in the smell. When we got home, the house still smelt of Domestos. Whereas the fragrance from Zoflora is, like life itself, depressingly transitory, the smell of Domestos is much more permanent.
Join us tomorrow when we get back on track and conclude our review.