He always seems to have money for the little things in life. He doesn't blink at dropping $25 for a nice wine. He'll be the first one to pick up the next round when he's out with his friends. And, he'll spring for a cab ride home if he doesn't feel like walking. However, when it comes to his kitchen sponge, he never seems to pay more than 11 cents for the one thing responsible at making his kitchen semi-clean.
It's little and yellow, about the size of a s'more. But, I want s'less of this sponge because it is terrible at the one thing it should do: clean. It's a lightweight yellow foam square that's not absorbent; it just pushes soapy water around like a bitchy hall monitor. I think it's made out of the same material used in red clown noses which is fitting because I feel like a clown using it.
There was a thin strip of green abrasive material on the top to scrub pots and pans, but half of it has dissolved. All that's left of the (formerly) gritty side is a raggedy strip of gnarled plastic half falling off, like a bad toupee. It doesn't clean anything, much less greasy pots and pans.
I used it once to scrub a lasagna pan and it was so ineffective I wanted to strangle it. When I asked it to get tough, grow a sac and tell that burnt cheese to fuck off, it looked at me, shrugged, and said it wasn't his problem. What kind of reaction is that? I expect my sponge to kick ass in a four-wheeled truck waving an American Flag and blasting early Metallica, not sitting around and debating Sigur Ros' back catalog whilst sipping herbal tea. This is bullshit!
When I looked under his sink for a different sponge to use--maybe something ergonomic, something with some grease-fighting heft--I saw a plastic bag containing about 15 more of the same square yellow foam jobs. It's terrible sponges for as far as the eye can see. And, that just makes me sad.