"Stuff I Like" Sunday: Stuff That ... Sucks?

Usually when we say something "sucks," it means we dislike said object. But when I tell you my vacuum sucks, I mean in it the best way possible - because, like, that's what vacuums are supposed to do.

I don't know why, but I have an insane amount of crap on my floor (not literally. Well, okay, sometimes I do actually have crap on my floor and in other places, but usually it's just hair and crumbs and weird pieces of ... whatever). It's like my floor is this infinite dirt trap, and I have spent countless hours wondering where the hell it all comes from. Through the years I've gone through several cheapie vacuum cleaners that worked okay for the first six months and then somehow, poof. Kaput. They're like, "Wow, screw this, I didn't know you'd work me so hard" and they just die, or go on strike, or otherwise fail to pick up the crap.

Anyway, one day last year a door-to-door vacuum salesman came by. Normally I wouldn't even answer the door because a.) I hate sales pressure, and b.) I always look like a hot mess, but that day I decided I'd just answer and tell him to get the hell off my porch (tactfully, of course). Like the sales pitch sucka that I am, though, he was in my house before I knew it, doing a demonstration of his wares: the Kirby Sentria. And I was reeled in, hook, line, and sinker, standing slack-jawed in amazement of how much ick this thing was picking up.

I remembered that my grandma had a Kirby vacuum that's, like, forty-something years old and still works like a charm. So before I could say "easy target," I was signing on the dotted line, the proud owner of a new vacuum. And it was expensive, y'all. You know what, though? It works so well that I don't even mind (too much) forking over the monthly payments. Word to the wise, though: if you ever buy one, DO YOUR RESEARCH FIRST. I could've gotten mine for waaaaay cheaper, had I been given adequate time to scour the Internet first.

Be that as it may, it was worth it. I LOVE this thing. And, like the true dork that I am, I actually wrote a poem about it. A few of you may have read it before on a previous blog, but I thought I'd dust it off and share it for those of you I've just met.

(PS - It's pronounced "sen-TREE-uh," not "SENTRY-uh." Just letting you know, so the poem flows properly. Because if it doesn't, I sound like a non-rhyming idiot.)

*ahem* Here goes ...


My life changed for the better when the salesman rang the bell;
He offered me a demo, and I thought, "Sure, what the hell."
Right then I heard the calling of your lovely siren song
When he showed me how my old vacuum had done my family wrong.

As your sleek and shiny body slid across my bedroom floor,
You picked up things from deep within, and still came back for more.
With every new attachment, you sucked me right on in
Your performance had me mesmerized; you got beneath my skin.

Oh Sentria, my Sentria,
You're a wonder to behold;
With your brushes, belts and hoses,
You're worth your weight in gold.

Oh Sentria, my Sentria,
What a difference you've made!
I can even clean my house without the arm and leg I paid.

Thanks to you, I've got no cobwebs in the highest-up of places,
I can reach in tiny crevices
And awkward squeezy spaces
My upholstery is hairless, my surfaces dust-free;
I dare someone to try and find a speckle of debris!

Oh Sentria, my Sentria,
My old vacuum had me bitter -
But you came and won the battle
Over dog hair and cat litter.

Oh Sentria, my Sentria,
My old vacuum had me hurt,
But you picked up the pieces -
And the crumbs, and dust, and dirt.

Some may say you're a suck-up,
With your fancy-schmancy tools;
But your brush roll is a beauty,
Your chrome a sparkling jewel.

My life changed for the better when you swept into my world,
Now this disillusioned housewife
Is a happier, cleaner girl!


Now that's about as heartfelt as it gets. And it explains why I can love something that sucks so much. :)