According to those in the know we the great British public are all part of a new fad that is sweeping the towns of England. The powers that be have named the problem and as we all know if it has a name you can do something about it. The name given to the plague that is sweeping the land is the Binge culture. Apparently we all now binge on one thing or another. If you go to the pub on a Friday and have a few to welcome the weekend you are labelled a binge drinker. The fact that you’re at home sober and saving you pennies the rest of the week seems to have passed the authorities by. And nobody turns a head if you go in every day and drink. No if you only drink when you can afford it and you have a day off the next day to recover so as not to take the piss out of your employer then you are a binge drinker.
The same can be said for shopping, you hit the shops on your day off to bag a bargain and you’re labelled as bingeing with you credit card. Food is another area where the men in dark suits have labelled you. Once upon a time if you ate to much you were a pig or just plain fat. But now if you dare to have a well stocked fridge and open the door after dark. Or worst still when you are in on your own you are rocketed to the dizzy heights of bingeing. (does that mean i am a computer binger...blogmaster) Now perhaps I could be accused of taking the piss or just not being serious about a subject that our dear leaders and the media seem to have shot to the top of the charts. But in my household we have our own secret binge mentality. Not food, not drink, although judging by the looks I get when I go to the bottle bank perhaps that ought to be re evaluated. We just seem to get through a lot of glass container products honest. Not shopping, not anything so far jumped on by the thought police. No in our little corner of Britain we have invented an entirely new excess.
Welcome to the world of the Binge Washer. Binge Washing takes place at regular panic induced intervals during the week. Now Binge Washing is mainly a winter sport. In the summer you can wash away to your hearts content, safe in the knowledge that the warm day and long evenings will cope with all that your 1200 rpm spin cycle can throw at it. And as a result the machine has a load in it most days and a washing strategy is implemented. We also conform strictly to the principal of “Washing Apartite” (For those who do not know it’s the strict control needed to keep Whites and Coloureds apart to stop the diluting of the pure white strain.) In some very strict households you might even find separate dirty laundry baskets, but it has to be said that this practice is slowly dying out in the more forward thinking homes.
Now come the winter and suddenly the thought that washing has to be dried in the house comes to the front. Panic sets in and before you know it there is a problem and it starts like this. In the winter the body shuts down and when you get home in the dark all you want to do is curl up in front of an open fire and watch crap TV. Before you know it the pile has grown and there are no more thongs in the draw. I chose the thong because it’s possible to get four days wear out of ordinary pants, by careful rotation. But the thong can’t go passed one (well that’s what I‘m told.) So after days of silence the poor old washing machine does about four loads in an evening trying to catch up. As you can see classic binge behaviour. You end up with every rad in the place covered, and the humidity goes through the roof. The thermostat is cranked up to compensate for all the damp washing stopping the heat warm the room. And all because we were not being strategic (In Joke) Perhaps there right after all Binging is public enemy number one.