The thing about glitter is if you get it on you, be prepared to have it on you forever. Because glitter doesn't go away. Glitter is the herpes of craft supplies.
I'm very much a home bird. I sometimes think I should have been a domestic. I like sweeping up, getting everything tidy. I'm obsessive compulsive. I don't mind admitting it.
When I wasn't working on Broadway, I worked in a Bat Mitzvah dress shop and was the Cinderella of the shop - always cleaning and vacuuming!
Year's end, all corners of this floating world, swept.
Fine dressing is a foule house swept before the doores.
People surround themselves in their houses with things they don't really need, that they have to dust all the time.
The other day, I noticed I'd arranged my spices in alphabetical order when I was on the phone, without even realizing, and when I was a kid I was constantly cleaning and organizing things - my toys, my sister's cosmetics.
I propose for the sake of the city I love an effective way of cleaning the streets.
You don't realize how hard it is to live on your own. But there's no mom to do your laundry, and make you dinner and to do things for you, and you don't think about little things like buying paper towels and salt.
I want to clean up my handle. Get stronger. Those are the things that will help me out in the long run.
Most guys believe that they're supposed to know how to fix things. This is a responsibility that guys have historically taken upon themselves to compensate for the fact that they never clean the bathroom. A guy can walk into a bathroom containing a colony of commode fungus so advanced that it is registered to vote, but the guy would never dream of cleaning it, because he has to keep himself rested in case a Mechanical Emergency breaks out.
There is no need to do any housework at all. After the first four years the dirt doesn't get any worse.
Who sweeps a room, as for Thy laws, makes that and the action fine.
I simply love doing household chores and cooking.
When I go to the garage to pick up my clubs, I clean the spider webs off.
The day I worry about cleaning my house is the day Sears comes out with a riding vacuum cleaner.
You can't really dust for vomit.
I do the dishes every night - other people volunteer, but I like the way I do it.
I have a problem getting all my laundry done, cleaning up and doing all of the normal daily things that a grownup should do.
Don't get me wrong, I think it's important to keep things clean. It's just the neatness I struggle with.
I don't like people cleaning my room.
I can take care of a house, and some people I meet, I think, 'You don't even know how to make a bed.'
My days are spent wrangling children, chipping dried manure from boots, washing jeans, and frying calf nuts.
Tell it to the cleaning lady on Monday. Because you'll be dust on Monday. Because I'll be pulverizing you sometime over the weekend. And the cleaning lady... cleans up... dust. She dusts. And she has weekends off, so... Monday. Right?
Oh, I've never gone off into that 'the room's not the right temperature, take this tea back' stuff. I still scrub my own toilet and vacuum the carpet, and I have to be able to push my trolley around Morrisons and do my shopping.
