Sunday, April 16, 2006

So weird I just had to share it with you, dear diary.

I live in a block of ten flats. It’s a pretty small block and I am pretty good at avoiding the idiosyncrasies of my neighbours [with the exception of guitar boy, the couple next door (after midnight one night she’s screaming out the bathroom window to her lover, ‘come back up, I wanna get laid before I go to bed’. Young romance is such a treat.), and the people in the house next door who have no conception of noise control]. However, today I’ve discovered something that has stumped me.
Between the ten flats there are two communal laundries, one for flats 1-5 the other for 6-10. In my laundry there are two washing machines set up, one of which is mine. There is not the room for another washing machine to be set up and I, quite frankly, don’t care who uses my machine. I am slightly irritated by whoever’s freeloading my detergent and softener [hey, I like my clothes to be soft and nice smelling] but that’s a different matter.
What puzzled me today, as I lifted the detergent bottle, was a scratched out barcode. I keep four bottles of various cleaning stuffs in that laundry and on each one the barcode had been scratched off or the label removed from the bottle. Did I mention that when I describe something as mine it means, usually, that I have purchased it? Did I mention that I am not in the habit of removing barcodes from cleaning products?
Now, I knew that there were some weird people living here but I cannot understand this. Who removes the barcodes from someone else’s possessions? And why? For the past few minutes I’ve been trying to work this one out. My first theory is that someone is so frightened of barcodes, totally got to be an alien/government tracking thing, that they compulsively remove all the barcodes they see. Okay, so extreme and pointless paranoia is really as far as I got on that one. I’m sure I could come up with more but there are pointless things to watch on tv and lindt to be eaten.

Seriously though, what the fuck?

10 comments:

Shelley said...

Can't be any worse than a laundromat.
Thanks, now I'll have to inspect my clothes for mystery pubes...

Don Quixote said...

It is the aliens. They have replaced your fabric softener with alien goo. They'll soon have control over your mind. When someone comes to your rescue they won't be able to trace it back to the company because the barcodes are gone.

It is time to adopt that ever-essential fashion accessory: the tin-foil hat.

Anonymous said...

Nah, your products are being used by spies at the detergent company to send secret messages encoded in the bar codes to someone at your apartment block. You need a barcode scanner to work out what the hidden messages are so you can find out whether they're bad spies or good spies and foil any plots at world domination they may be hatching.

Shelley said...

Three boys and pubes were ignored. How real life can you get?

So, some kind of conspiracy in play... What fun.

Anonymous said...

Don't leave your pubes lying around, they can be used to get your DNA make clones.

Shelley said...

This is one of those moments when it is clear that we've never ever met, Mark. Had you met me you'd realise that nobody would ever want more than one of me in existance. Many people don't want me in existance now. *woe*

Cazzie!!! said...

That is real weird isnt it? I have a friend who removes the tags off all clothing that she wears, not just undies and bras which may be irritating to the skin and all..everything. Yet, she is obsessive compulsive so I guess that explains something.
Write them a note, "Fugg off dirt bags..leave my tags alone".
Cheers Cazzie!!!

Unknown said...

??? I want a nailpolishblues clone right here in good old Vancouver. She sounds like fun so :P

Anonymous said...

I didn't say the clones couldn't be evil, did I?

Now pls write a non-pube-based post thx.

Shelley said...

Cazzie - there are far too many crazies...a lot of them live in my neighbourhood [I mean you Mark.]. I can understand tags though.

Marina - awwww thanks...where do I post the pubes? Oh right, no.

Rinns - pubes pubes pubes pubes pubes pubes pubes -- hey, it's like a toilet at work!

Mark - you are a bossy little man. Who said I was evil, anyway? Wait, have you been stalking me?