James Dyson
I bought a new vacuum cleaner over the weekend. The heavy-duty big fancy one I’d had at “The Marital Home” never worked as well as I’d liked and it was a mess to empty. I tried to sell it at a garage sale and ended up just giving it away. In my down-sizing frenzy for my small home, I bought a little stick , cordless, bag-less number that only worked a short while before dying in a corner, unloved, unused.
I’m embarrassed to say I’ve been sweeping my area rugs.
But I broke down and went to the store to get a vacuum cleaner this weekend because that’s how I roll. Don’t be jealous, it was one of my more exciting outings lately, but I digress . . .
Once I arrived at the store I felt visually assaulted by the displays of the bright yellow Dyson vacuums. You know, the state of the art industrially designed models that cost between $300 and $700. They are different from other vacuum cleaners because they have that fancy ball thingy — and maybe something new with the motor? I don’t know, but I bet they work like a dream. They should for that amount of money.
I will never buy a Dyson, however. And it’s not because of the price (though I could/would not pay that much for a vacuum cleaner at this point in my life).
No, it’s because of the commercial, the first commercial that introduced the product and that has always just pissed me off. I’m not going to link it here because it still irks me. If you know what I’m talking about you’ll know what I’m talking about.
The commercial features James Dyson himself with his gorgeous English accent, which to us Americans automatically makes him smart. Well, according to the advertisement, Sir Dyson’s wife had asked him to vacuum. Dutifully, he took out their vacuum cleaner —- but he didn’t vacuum. No, he examined the device and decided that it had serious design flaws. So instead of vacuuming, he took their vacuum cleaner apart, analyzed it and eventually designed a prototype for a new vacuum cleaner to which he gave his name — the Dyson.
The rest is history.
Now, the wife’s perspective. Though I’m sure she’s reaping the benefits of the Dyson vacuum cleaner’s wild success, I think that on that day, in that moment, she just wanted her husband to vacuum the freaking rug. That’s all. Just vacuum. No analysis necessary. No deconstruction, no prototypes. Just vacuum the freaking floor!!!!!
Imagine her surprise when she walked into the room and instead of finding a clean floor she found her husband — on the floor — surrounded by vacuum cleaner parts, dust and debris. Anyone who has ever tried to take apart a vacuum cleaner knows that it makes a bloody mess. (Note the English vernacular? Yes?)
All that woman wanted was for her husband to vacuum the carpet. It’s a simple request. But instead, he likely retired to the garage to begin to build his prototype for the best freaking vacuum cleaner ever invented, because what men and women — and his wife — had been using for ages was woefully insufficient, malformed, mis-designed, inconvenient and just not up to par.
But for all of his superior, nay, grand design plans which revolutionized carpet maintenance as we know it, Dyson did not vacuum the freaking floor when his wife asked him to!!! Instead, he picked that moment to take their vacuum cleaner apart.
And we’re supposed to buy his Rolls Royce of vacuum cleaners?
What a pile of bollocks!
I say to Sir Dyson, I know you are brilliant, but:
Just freaking vacuum the floor. Then, after you are done, design your fancy, superior, super-expensive, ball-having, yellow vacuum cleaner.
That’s all Dame Dyson wanted. I don’t think she was asking for too much.
Just Me With . . . a Dirt Devil.
Dirt Devil
Of course Mrs. Dyson can probably afford a golden vacuum cleaner and a maid and butler to do all of her floors, but it’s the principle of the thing for me.
Just Me With . . . 
Just Me With… A Dirt Devil. Gotta love it! (If it’s any consultation It’s Just Me With …A Dirt Devil too). xo
And my Dirt Devil is doing just fine, thank you very much. And thanks for dropping by.
Love it! I do have an old Dyson, does not have the fancy smancy ball thing, for which I am happy, have no use for such things, no need for the ball/balls as of recent, especially the shaven sort, as was my first clue that things were not kosher here at home before filing for divorce, as to shave his testicles, done thong underpants, mine of all things, as I did not have use for the thong underpants either, which he had bought for me no less, and shaven balls, metrosexual balls, is something I am no longer interested in, the shaven sort, if you know what I mean 🙂 Thank you for your funny post! Leave it to a man to design a vacuum cleaner with balls, they do so love playing with these things, and since Dyson is quite long in the tooth, I would imagine his balls being quite long in the pants! Sunnabelle
Now I can’t stop picturing a Dyson with TWO balls!!!
As for your Ex and his suddenly shaven balls and thong wearing, I just have to shake my head. My Ex only started shaving his face when there was a lady (using the term loosely) friend.
Perhaps we should let Mr. Dyson know that two balls might be better than one? Is it me, or does Mr. Dyson seem a bit bent to begin with? Not knowing any of his history before you, as I just assumed he had a “partner” vs. wife, which would explain his fascination of balls further, yet, since Mr. Dyson is perhaps not of the persuasion I had thought, he might just get off on his own, balls I mean, and yes, pun intended!
Huh, I haven’t watched the commercial in a long time, because it pisses me off but I think he said wife. But even if it’s a male partner, works the same. He should have vacuumed first.
Yes, I like being a bag-less/bad ass lady, and I do fancy myself a lady, despite my often wicked tongue/wicked sense of humor, hey… I do wear pearls on many an occasion, pearls or garnets, as they suit me well, at least in my opinion, doing so while spewing my venom and it is usually at the “Psychosissy’s” expense, as too often, despite my better judgement, and the kind and loving advice of my “dearest sister of my heart”, I end up “Throwing MY Pearls to Swine” time and again, and do so because…well…it just feels darn good, even if just for the moment, as aside from my two delicious girls, my two delicious and devoted hounds, Bassets, my daily dose of dark chocolate and R.A. medications, which tend to bloat me and increase the already abundant blond fuzzy/downy hair which I am apparently dipped in, as my mother always thought me a teddy bear, as I do have a seam of white fur, as do my girls, running up and down my spine (my boyfriends favorite part of me, thank g-d he likes it, I cannot imagine many would), up my neck, to where my hair starts, as I am after all a bun head, and now “it”, the fur, seems to be taking a turn onto my face, as we did tease my father growing up that he was the “missing link”, as he had to shave twice a day often times (and I’m not talking “testicles”, like my ex hubby does) as obviously, I come by it honestly, and thank g-d at least my “fur” is light, as my fur seems to be taking a turn towards my face as of recent, making my face similar to that of a “fuzzy peach”. So this forty something, middle aged, “decrepit and now even fuzzier ballerina”, getting fuzzier and furrier by the minute, must take my joy at every opportune time, and yes, at his expense most often, and this letting go, being free with my venom is worth throwing my pearls for! A little joy is worth the less than lady like behaviors I often shock myself with, and others too, and boy does it feel good, as whom better than him, the Psychosissy/Narcissopath to be the brunt of it? A girls gotta have her fun and there is only so much chocolate I can consume!
Sorry…back to the vacuum cleaner, again, I am ADHD as is my father and one of my daughters, something else we come by honestly. So-
A few years after I had mine, the Dyson that is, my parents then bought themselves one as well, perhaps more than a few years, perhaps 5 or so years after mine, as theirs was quite a bit fancier than mine, more whistles and bells, and even “purple”, unlike the yellow one I have, as I am such a fan of purple. They had bought it after I had raved about it for some time, at least several years. Well…they were rather displeased and disappointed in their purchase, (shocking right?) despite theirs being top of the line and “purple”, again, my favorite color for sure, as mine, the ugly yellow one, “sans” the balls, was in fact the cheapest version, yet still one of the earliest models, and yes, it has outlived my marriage, still works quite well, sucks much better than that of my parents for sure, as still, it can suck quite well, (pun intended!), as this is what I do most recall about “his” commercials, the Dyson fella, this, his strange way of repeating the sucking factor 🙂 *Remember I have lots and lots of hair to vacuum up, as I have two hounds and myself to clean hair up after, not counting my two girls who are also quite fuzzy and furry!
My parents tend to be a bit more critical than I in general (again, I’m sure this is quite shocking), and lets face it, I’m no “June Cleaver”, but, I am pretty sure that these machines, vacuums, work better without that silly ball, as we all seem to be having a “ball” discussing it, (pun intended again, WOW, I’ve “out punned” myself!!)! My parents got a high end one, mine being the cheapest, and yellow, and thus, puts my very expensive Miele to shame. I bought the Miele during the divorce, as why not, he was spending it faster than I could, and on his “paramour” of several years, and how on earth could I allow him to dissipate the marital funds without me receiving the benefit of having a Miele? At least I was somewhat practical right? Sorry…I have no understanding of “brevity”! Sunnabelle
I hate and despise bagless vacuums. What a pain the ass to clean and cleaning the filters! aaaahhhhh. This is another reason to hate Mr. Dyson, you probably can’t clean his ball vac any better.
I know about the bagless, seems like a good idea but in reality it makes more of a mess. I went back to a bagged, corded vacuum cleaner. Simpler times.
OH and there is NO way in hell you can get that stupid dumb ass ball vac under ANY furniture.
I had no idea where this post was going after you said it had nothing to do with the price (for me, that’s the issue). Your point was so unexpected. LOVED it!
Thanks so much. The price is a huge issue, too, but man I just want that joker to vacuum the floor.
Balls vs. bag-less, hmm, I like the bag-less sort, can do without the balls 🙂 My Dyson is the older kind, it has served me well, I have had it at least 14 or more years, since Mr. Fancy pants himself bought if for me, and no silly, not Mr. Dyson, my ex psychopath/narcissopath/psychosissy and this was about the same time he made me a schedule of which chores to do on what days, as I was a stay at home mum, as I am still today, and as such, he should better advise me, and better teach me how to use my time more affectively/efficiently, and I was appalled to say the least, the audacity this thong wearing, ball shaven metro-sexual man had, as to impose a chore schedule for me, which I did crumble/crumple in his face ( I guess I had balls too, at least early on), to his surprise. He then proceeded to devise yet another schedule for me, this one for which body parts I should work, as he found me a bit loose in muscle tone, (at 115 pounds no less, as I had just had a baby, am 5’5″ and thus, he did not want me becoming or getting used to my comfy habits of eating sweets, and yes, I do so love sweets and whole milk still to this day, as I was nursing a baby for 12 months), on specific days, as to better serve his narcissistic supply, or extension of fragile ego, and I do mean FRAGILE! He did not like me eating dessert in general, and if I had the audacity to do so, in his presence, he would strongly urge me to immediately do crunches following the apparent offense!
Damn. For disordered people like that, the most important thing is to surround themselves with people who appear to make him/her look good, by his/her disordered standards. Kudos for standing up to him. I’m still learning how to do that, but it’s getting easier — bwahahahaha!
I bought my Dyson 12 years ago. I told the sales guy at the store where I bought it that I was going to use it that night and if I didn’t like it I was returning it and getting a full refund. So, I went home vacuumed the living room floor with the old vacuum giving it a good going over. I then vacuumed the same floor with the Dyson and OMG the dirt the baby pulled up was impressive! I went to the store the next day to hug the guy that sold me the Dyson as up until that point I didn’t believe any vacuum could be that good. So 12 years later that machine is still going strong and I still love it.
Reblogged this on divorcingapsychopath and commented:
I like this site of yours, just my cup of tea, humor and sharing of some common pain, and with a wee bit of spice and good humor, just as I like it! I am Re-blogging it, I hope that this is okay with you. You are a hoot! That “Mr. Dyson Man” has some nerve, and you are so correct…he should have just vacuumed the gosh darn floor!
An EXCELLENT perspective!! And while Mr. Dyson certainly succeeded in becoming rich, he did NOT succeed in even making a decent vacuum, while succeeding in completely ignoring his wife’s request and making more mess rather than cleaning!!
I fell for it. I bought a Dyson. I was SSSOOO happy! Until a month later when it broke and I couldn’t afford a new one. So I went to a bona fide vacuum repair place. (Yes, they still exist.) He told me the repairs would cost a figure that was just shy of what I paid for the damned thing. He took it and lined it up in a long line of vacs to be fixed. No joke, 80% were DYSONS.
I can only hope that Mrs Dyson divorces Sir James and sues him for a large share of the profits.
LMAO you’re so right – I bet the poor girl is STILL waiting!! xx
Maybe Dame Dyson asked the Mr. to vacuum specifically because her vacuum cleaner was a piece of junk. Maybe she *wanted* him to take it apart and clean it and deal with the whole messy thing. Maybe she even knew him well enough to know he was a stinking genius, but unfocussed and without a job and she thought… “If he would only do something useful, like invent a kick-ass vacuum cleaner, I could get him out of the house…” Ya never know. Maybe she was the smart one. I like to think the women usually are. 😉
Could be, but I still wish Mr. Dyson had vacuumed first. There’s that old union saying, “Work, then grieve.” I’m probably projecting a bit because whenever my ex-husband vacuumed, he “fixed” the vacuum cleaner first. It never got done. But he’s not an engineering genius, so . . .
Oh my gosh. You are killing me. I laughed out loud over this one. Mr. Dyson, dam it, just VACUUM THE FLOOR for crying out loud! Mrs. Dyson…still pissed off.
Funny thing is, with that English accent one could almost expect Mr. Dyson to speak not of vacuuming and his vacuum cleaner, but hoovering and his hoover – both lower case. (I know, he can’t in this country because TRADEMARKS…but still. 🙂 )
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