When living in New Orleans, I frequented a (no longer) coffee shop where crazies and French Quarter living folks (same thing) gathered. Natural born locals reported that one hanger outer/coffee drinker...the one carrying the hardcover books and twenty or so school notebooks once was a famous biologist (or scientist). In the middle of any particular time, he'd scream, "My GREATEST discovery YET! He stood, in socks and Birkenstocks, and looked to the sky. Bringing me to my point. I'm all over the house, plus washing the grey out, with the cuticle cream on my toes and you know that pesky scum you see right where the metal of the faucet meets the porcelain? Right, and you never can remove it. No, not even with the CLR or the other late night advertised-loudly products.
Well, I just smeared some of my creme bleach right there! GONE! It may as well be a miracle (that and all my accomplishments)!
This all happening as my sons sleeps in his own bed.