Oh my god, I have such a sick fascination with this show. And so many of the people on it are the most unlikable people ever to appear on television — the video above is Nadine, probably the apotheosis of every raspy-voiced, hairy-chinned screeching harpy who ever lived. She winds her (grown!) daughter up so much that she literally runs down a public street growling and hitting herself in the head. I mean I know it’s a form of mental illness and a better person would be more sympathetic; but most of my sympathy goes towards the family members the hoarders drag down into hell with them.
Hoarding has its own charming vocabulary:
- Clothes lasagna: The process in which layers of dirty clothing accumulate and flatten under their own weight, the layers of which eventually start sticking together because of mildew and damp.
- Sailcat: A household pet which has gone missing, only to turn up during the cleaning process, having gotten flattened when a pile of trash fell on it; then dessicated into something resembling a frisbee with a tail.
- Goat paths: The narrow, winding passages through the tottering piles of hoarded items.
This morning I was thinking my bedroom is really messy, but it looks like a monk’s cell to me after a single episode of this show.