You know the person. The one who stacks paper on their office desk like a flammable Leaning Tower of Pisa. The one who spews dirty socks across the living room like a malodorous sprinkler. You can — you must, for the sake of our consumer-based economy — nudge this person toward the commodities of cleanliness that will help them cope with their cluttered life.
Yep, there’s a list for that. It’s titled “Hey Asshole” and it allows the list maker (or list sender) to check off boxes like, among other things, “Clean up your shit” or “Do the dishes” or “Clean the toilet.” Also included are gems of advice like “Get a job” and “Quit harshing my mellow.”
$7.95 • Boo Radley’s • 232 N. Howard St.
To paraphrase Homer Simpson: Instead of doing things, it’s better to watch other people do them. And why not? Your slobbish friend/relation/lover obviously can’t stay clean. So dial up Amaculate Housekeeping, a local cleaning crew and let them take on the cankerous bathroom or mold-battered kitchen.
$88 for four hours and supplies • Amaculate Housekeeping • 922-4382
Did the cleaners not provide enough permanence to the disaster known as your gift recipient? The definition of insanity, according to clean people, is being a slob over and over again. Thus, attack the problem at its root. Professional organizer Cindy Vanhoff says she understands disorganization and works to “to eliminate the stress, clutter, and chaos that keep you from your true priorities,” according to her webpage. Vanhoff does it all: she can re-style closets and wardrobes, disentangle your office cube or go through your house room-by-room to morph it into a passable, livable abode.
$60 per hour in most cases • Reclaimed Spaces • 710-9853
That’s right, I said wicker basket. Because wicker baskets can quarantine heaps of junk. Procure it for the paper-packrat who hasn’t yet met the Internet. Consider it a surefire way to class up the disposal of beer cans. Light and portable, it’s the first responder of waste disposal. Plus, it’s wicker.
$24.99 • World Market • 6125 N. Division St.
Let’s stop pretending there’s a solution. Billy Ray is never going to pick up his holey socks. Norma Jean ain’t ever going to dispose of her self-made paper doll collection. The solution? Burn everything, start over. Make sure you do it somewhere safe, like a metal barrel, and far away from any towns with burn restrictions. Road trip! Ask the clerk for the “big lighter.”
$4.99 • Downtown Groceries • 525 W. Sprague Ave.
GRANDPA’S PINE TAR SOAP
Aloe-scented Dove bars are no way to scrub off the muck of a disheveled, polluted air-breather. The only way to cleanse the socially wicked is with pine and tar. Fortunately, Grandpa’s calculated this into their Pine Tar Soap. Also, it’s vegetable based, as neither pine nor tar come from swine. Which might make it kosher, too.
$4.20 • Sun People Dry Goods • 32 W. Second Ave.