Banana & Pipe

I don't want to buy a dish washer. I don't want a dish washer around. I think about all those immaculately clean cups, forks and bowls and I see germs. I see the fertile crescent of sickness. I can't help it. My wife calls it the double bind. The more we learn how to make our world perfectly clean, the more we get ride of dirt, the more we fill our landfills with plastic and residue and crud, the more we antibacterialize our hands and our chickens and our squash, the more we wash our dishes, the sicker we get. There is not really a way to get around it, I'll grant that. There are more of us and we all seem to want to live close on top of each other in little packed together high rises and little packed together houses and fuck and squeeze and fight and squirm. And there I am, a firm follower of the healthy King Ludd in the middle of it all, selling dishwashing liquid.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

I ought to have called this one "Cock Blocked"