THOUGHTS ON OWNING CHEAP LINT ROLLERS - by Joni
What’s up? I'm Joni, a fantastic vocalist for HAN, and also a sometimes bassist, and I own a cheap lint roller. “Joni, why don’t you just buy a better lint roller?” IDK, maybe because this one isn’t empty yet? GOHHH (in my best Napoleon Dynamite voice)!
I hate when I’m attempting to wear black pants, and our dog (your favorite niece, Remy) rubs up on my legs like she wants lovins or something. Side note: Remy always wants lovins. I don’t mind giving her lovins. In fact, I love it. But she rubs against my legs at the absolute WORST times. And what do I do? I complain because I’ve allowed myself puppy snugs and now I can’t get my pants to come clean. Because I own a shitty booty, $1, not sticky at all lint roller. This thing picks up three short dog hairs and thinks, ‘Oh, I think I’ll stop working now. That’s enough work.’
To avoid having to use my super duper pooper scooper lint roller, I avoid Remy’s attempts to shift her entire body weight onto my legs when I come out of the bedroom in a fresh set of clothes. This, in turn, usually makes her lose her balance, which is kind of cute. But Remy isn’t the only reason I have use for a lint roller. My boyfriend’s hair is getting long, and he has started to lose a few pieces when he brushes his hair. Let me explain how this has anything to do with a fucking lint roller.
I’m sure all you women out there with hair understand the constant hair in your sweater sleeve, or having to clean the brush after every use (I don’t do that). Especially if you have as much hair as me (pictured on the front page of howaboutno.net). I usually cut about 7-10” off every 1.5-2 months, and this shit literally just won’t stop growing. I know, I know… what a problem to have! My hair is annoying enough, but two people’s hair? FUCK! I’m usually expecting to find my hair on my clothes, and it goes straight into the floor to be vacuumed next week. But when Drew’s hair is also getting long, and also getting stuck to my clothes, I simply shut down. I’m like a deer in headlights (the ones who don’t attack cars) when I see his hair on my clothes. This usually means it’s time for the shitty lint roller I’d previously mentioned.
So, let’s revisit the age-old question of why I haven’t gone to buy a better, stickier lint roller. The answer is actually just that simple: this one isn’t empty yet. My severely ADHD and slightly Autistic brain can’t handle buying something to replace an item that doesn’t quite need replacing yet. And do I even have enough money to splurge like that? I can see skipping a couple days of Starbucks for a lint roller (highly unlikely), but saying I’m going to do something and doing something are two completely different things. I’ll splurge on a lint roller sometime this year during my next target trip, seeing as though I only go there once a year for my bacne spray. I only get bacne during the summer, resulting in the one trip for the one can, but still spending $400. So, until this summer, you’ll probably see me with about 2,864 pieces of Remy with me.
This has been Thoughts on Owning Cheap Lint Rollers. Do yourselves a favor: don’t buy a cheap lint roller. This one can’t even get the dog hair off the couch after she sleeps on it. Just don’t do it. Cheap lint rollers should be a fucking sin.
JoniVilliard, Vocalist, Bassist, Tax Preparer, Weird, Youngest of the Friend Group
