The Tragedy Of Transience: Super Jon Review 2

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Our most treasured possession is still Super Jon cleaner from Croatia.

We remember the day we bought it like it was yesterday. It was a baking hot day, with screaming sun relentless. We looked at the deep blue water at the foot of the high cliff and felt dizzy. Dizziness from the heat and the industrial alcohol, and from the possibility of the height. Jagged rocks waited just below the water, we could see the sea scour them “Just one more step” we thought. In centuries, yes, but eventually nonetheless, the rocks would be washed away. No trace of them would remain and they would be clean.

Instead of taking that step, we decided to cheer ourselves up by doing what never fails to cheer us up; by going to the cleaning aisle of the local supermarket. It was wonderful

there it was, amongst the cosmopolitan ‘Ajax’s and the Cilit Bangs. Super Jon. We were tempted for a long, long time by ‘Arf’ solely due to it’s name. What a brilliant name for an oven cleaner. You could have a whole range ‘Ha ha’ for the toilet cleaner, ‘Lol’ for the floor and you could even have a range of mops called ‘ROFL’ Mops.

==’Just going to mop the floor with my new ‘ROFL mop’==

==’God you’re sexy’==

You can have that for free Johnson and Johnson, although a link from your homepage to Bleach and Tonic (‘The lighter side of cleaning’) would be appreciated

We’ve spent many a happy evening by the fire trying to decipher the back of it via Google Translate:

It’s like the Rosetta Stone, but all we’ve been able to decipher so far is that ‘Alkohol’ is probably ‘Alcohol’. We can’t get over the niggling sensation that what we are using to clean the hob with is actually shower cleaner. My bet is that windows must be filthy in Croatia because God knows what shit Super Jon has in it, but it can sure as fuck shift baked on grease.

However, we have a bigger problem. We’re husbanding it as if it were more precious than gold but nonetheless we are running out of the stuff. Time is passing, everything is rotting…

…and our supplies are getting low. We live in the north west of England and are holidaying in cornwall rather than Croatia this year, due to credit crunch reasons. We doubt the yokels down there even have Domestos, in fact you would probably be burnt as a witch were you to unfurl even a modest supermop. So, please, if you are going to Croatia please send us a bottle. Even Italy would do, you could easily spend a day or two on a ferry to pop over there and pick one up for us. Hmm, we wounder how long it would take via a pedalo from St Ives? Not a bad plan, actually. Escape the wife, a couple of days at sea and then bing bang boom, return laden with Super Jon and be proclaimed the messiah for being able to easily remove caked on baked beans. Watch this space.

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