The Cleaners Blog

On The decorated mind

A blog of gathered dust, left at the cleaner’s mercy

Now if the cleaner’s mercy hadn’t existed at the corner of the rubble filled track, the one leading onto the ring road next to the moody hen pub where couples often pull up and check their flies, hair, makeup, making sure they look less ruffled after fucking or being fucked. You know the spot?

If the cleaner’s mercy hadn’t existed, the giver of truth wouldn’t have had the perfect place to hide his equipment, wouldn’t have been able to start the recording, that of which gave a moment of clarity to a journey less than fine. A journey, one might add, that may take a lifetime to uncover, but not it must be said, that of the cleaners.

The Cleaners blog

All In the interest of catching mankind with his flies down or with a hair out of place whilst so busy desperately projecting a life of perfection unto the cosmos.

 

You’re welcome.

Post your comment

The new one hundredth Monkey
Fuck the Cat said the Dog