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Pastimes : Don't Ask Rambi -- Ignore unavailable to you. Want to Upgrade?

To: Rambi who wrote (62863)	6/3/2002 7:48:11 PM
From: Ish	Read Replies (1) \| Respond to of 71178

<<I am filled with guilt because I don't save those little slivers of soap as my mother before me did, to melt down with all the other slivers of soap saved by the church women through the year.>> Soap. Years ago I was sitting in a greasy spoon in Wisconsin when two guys got into a fight. It was over who could buy the fat dripped off the burgers and sausages. Soap is bascally this garbage mixed with lye. Add a few things and you get the thing you wash your face with.

To: Rambi who wrote (62863)	6/4/2002 1:37:30 AM
From: Jacques Chitte	Respond to of 71178

Spouse despises my technique (fixation? neurosis?) of grafting dead bars of soap onto new ones. Well she fixed my wagon good, she did. She switched soap brands ... only explanation I have for the Paranormal Phenomenon that quite recently transpired in our shower. Ordinarily I use a bar of soap until it's so thin it actually becomes pliable. (That's the signal that it is Ready.) Then it can be just skoooshed onto the new bar, and it'll stick like glue so long as the bars have most of a day to consummate their union. Well the new bar was snow-white, not this lovely cream color like the Old Bar, and the Old Bar just would NOT stick. (A broad hint that something was amiss was that the bars felt different. They didn't lather in a repeatable, ohnevermind...) I skoooshed. I made white lather. I made cream lather. I made cunning blends of ivory lather. I went so far as to carve grooves into Mr. Newbar with my thumbnail, then skoooosh with passion and moral authority. But every time I armpit-tested this bi-soapal hybrid, the tatter of Oldbar just slid off, not unlike a full Big Gulp off a stack of borrowed textbooks. Next morning Mr. Oldbar was nowhere to be found. I imagine Spouse operated the In-Sink-Erator earlier that morning, with extreme prejudice. Maybe she was tired of retrieving that bit of old soap from her armpit. Or her elsewhere. I didn't want to ask.