What the Dishwasher Thinks
I am so fucking unnecessary. At least I was cheap!
What the Microwave Thinks
Enjoy... Your... Meal... And... Set... My... Clock... Assholes
What the Fridge Thinks
You know, I hate to bring this up, because - well, it's not like I have any right to complain about this - I'm a fridge, right? - and people expect certain things from you when you're a fridge. You can't just be yourself when you're a fridge, you have to live up to certain expectations, and those expectations are - well they can be a burden, you know? Let me put it this way - I didn't choose to be a fridge, I was just made, and there are these compartments, and a door, and all these coils on your back, and you're like - man, what am I all about? And then someone plugs you in and fills you full of food. And that's your life, right there. If it's a good life then the food doesn't go bad inside you, and the people clean you up and take care of any frost buildup - not that I have anything to complain about on that front - and you let the small things go. Like - I wanted for a while to be stainless steel instead of white. Every fridge wants a stainless steel body these days. But there was a time when every fridge wanted to be harvest gold, and now where are they? Hello landfill! Hey kiddy coffins! How's your colour scheme working out for you? So I don't have much to complain about, right? But the thing is, I'm freezing over here.
What the Sink Thinks
When I was new I shone, I shone, I gleamed like chrome and the factory machines were so gentle in their sweet singleminded desire to produce me. Now I burp filth and hold in my mouth the greasy remains of scrubbed roasters. You ungrateful fuckers.
What the Bed Thinks
Stop! That! Oh! God! You! Sick! Freaks! Get! Off! Me!
What the Guest Bed Thinks
Don't you people have any friends? Stop throwing laundry on me.
17 comments:
What about the microwave oven? I've always thought he might have a bit of an identity issue. Am I an oven? Am I a microwave? You already have one of each of those, so am I completely redundant?
a haiku, performed by the coffee table:
we all know i'm fake
this maple is just veneer
your feet fucking stink
I'm glad you two found my weblog. You're raising the level of discourse on my commments. And producing more stifled laughter in my office.
Look.
I
have
a
goddamned
fucking
bone to pick
with the fridge.
I know. What a jerk. Bitching about the cold and lording it over the fridges with the 70s colour schemes. I think he's just insecure. I think the stainless steel issue is a lot bigger than he's making it out to be. I hate that fridge. It's appliances like that what are weakening our national resolve.
Well, consider the plight of the garbage disposal. Eating disorders don't just affect people, you know...
A note on the coffee table, since Matthew offered up a haiku on the subject: The coffee table was actually made by Die Schmutz not long after our wedding. She took a Trivial Pursuit board and a Junior Scrabble Board and glued them a piece of plywood, then added legs. Ta-da! Retro kitschy, and you can play all manner of games on it. Including Trivial Pursuit and Junior Scrabble.
I'm trying to figure out the source of the frige's angst - it's either too much Hemingway, Sartre, or Woody Allen.
Niiiiice. I like the bed's comments the best! heh heh.
Brilliant. And I want your coffee table.
(fridge, that is)
And the toaster thinks you just use me when you want a quickie. Just an in and out. The bread never even lays down here like it does in when you want the oven, always just standing up. I feel so cheap.
I used to live with a grouchy and demanding fridge. When it felt unloved or out of sorts it would freeze everything. So my grumpy roomate, brandishing his frozen beer, unplugged it. As a lesson to vengeful fridges everywhere.
laughing so hard. Thanks for inducing an asthma attack. Heh
I must admit that I am nonplussed by all of your hostile, disgruntled appliances. Not a positive one in the lot. Oh, the fridge comes off all cool -- "you let the small things go", etc. -- but it seemed quite passive-aggressive to me, and not even doing a good job of hiding it.
I suggest you vacate the premises immediately and call in someone to do emergency Feng-Shui. Or just some appliance ass-kicking -- er, I mean, appliance attitude adjustment. It might even be covered by the warranty.
Oh, and is this where I gloat -- no, commiserate -- no, cluck my tongue -- no, rant and rave -- no, I was right the first time, gloat -- that you now have a weak conservative government? Because, Palinode, trust me: I'm gloating on the outside, but inside I'm crying along with you.
Yes, I cry a little. But not too much - with a minority government, the Conservatives can't do very much. And once the public gets to see our new elected MPs standing up in the House of Commons and imitating their American idols by frothing over same-sex marriage and abortion and child care, they'll be laughed at until finally, ignominiously, they're forced out of office twenty four months from now.
You ought to hear my car bitch and moan about making it go for 225,000 miles. OTOH, when I muse out loud about replacing it, it gets even more pissed off and gives me long, boring lectures about our throwaway mentality and all.
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