Frying Off The Handle
As a man of science, you think I’d be comfortable with a microwave, a device handy for exciting my molecules.
I placed my mug of cold coffee in the microwave and closed the door. Using my trusty slide rule I calculated the optimum time. As the seconds ticked down I watched through the meshy window just in case things came to a boil.
Thankfully they did not.
The microwave chirped a friendly beep beep beep so I opened the door and took out the mug. I examined the dark fluid closely.
All seemed well. I stroked my chin thoughtfully. “Hmm,” I said. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen such a flat calm.”
I put the mug on the counter, ensconced the sugar bowl in my loving arms and cued up a teaspoon of sweet heavenly goodness.
As the sugar cascaded into the mug it exploded I was knocked on my ass by a shock wave of exactly 1.21 gigawatts. Covered in burning liquid, I staggered to my feet. Only a crater remained where my mug had been moments before.
I realized I was crying. “Hot water burn baby!!!” I yelled.
Experts later determined the blast was equivalent t .42% of the nuclear device set off my North Korea just last week. So I’m in good company.
Oh Jumpin’ Java – Boom and Doom
This is a follow-up to yesterday’s product review about a free sample of Starbucks Blonde coffee that I recently received.
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A trip to the Walmart in pictures
All photographs in this post were iPhoned by the blogger formerly known as ~#^7>u. Please, no autographs. I hate writing that fucking name. Next time I’m going to change my name to . or somethin’.
Yeah, I took a trip to the Walmart once. The other day my wife said she was going, so naturally I asked, “Can I come along?”
There were no anti-bacterial wipes at the entrance so my wife had to actually touch the shopping cart. And she hasn’t touched anything since – especially me! We asked the official greeter about the wipes, but she feigned ignorance.
Just to mess with my wife, I demanded an Egg McMuffin (no meat) before we actually stepped inside the store. Luckily there was a McDonald’s right there. Handy! It has been my dream to walk around a Walmart with McDonald’s food in my hand. Scratch one from my New Year’s resolutions list!
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The end of the world as we know it
This morning I woke up, just like I usually do. (I say “usually” because sooner or later there will be a day I don’t, but that’s another story.)
In the kitchen I sensed something was awry. It took a minute, but then I found it.
The microwave was blinking, rather angrily it felt like. It was blinking the word “END” over and over again.
I immediately took this as an omen. “The end is near,” I thought. “This does not portend well.”
I couldn’t resist the urge to stand there and gaze upon the thing before hitting the “clear” button. The thing had, apparently, been blinking “end” all night long. It was simply doing the job it was programmed to perform. I looked but nothing was inside. It must have been the result from its most recent task where the entire microwave was used as the world’s most expensive kitchen timer. I could only assume that the timed event had come and gone without great tragedy.
Lucky for us we didn’t use the timer on the oven or it would have been beeping reminders all night long. At least the microwave does it silently.
Still, it was enough to get me thinking. Here was a piece of technology that was only trying to help. Or scare the shit out of me.
On the other hand…
I’m the proud owner of a car that is possessed with a peculiar quirk. Ostensibly it’s a security feature of some kind, no doubt intended to prevent the theft of the vehicle.
But I know what it really is. It’s a gift sent from the nether regions of Hell to torment me on this plane of existence. A job it performs only too well.
The car can only be started with one key. (God help me if I ever lose that key. That’ll be a $500 mistake. Read on.) That key has a resistor built into it. Any attempt to start the car where the resistor is not properly detected results in the a message from Satan (see picture above) being displayed. As far as I know, there is no force in the known universe that can change that outcome for the next 180 seconds of my life.
Can you even imagine? You have someplace to go and here you are stuck in your car and forced to wait three interminable minutes. The only thing you can do is remove the key, re-insert it, and hope that it works on the next try.
This has happening to me for something like a year now. Sometimes this problem happens twice in a row. Or three times in a row. Or more! The current record is six in a row. That’s 18 minutes of my life gone that I’ll never get back.
I’d sure like to meet the person who invented this “feature” and give him a good look at this key. A very close look. Like through the back of his retina and beyond.
Never again in my life will I buy a vehicle without checking for “features” like these or any others I can possibly imagine. If a salesperson recommends a car with a feature like this I’ll take a test drive over his head. But even so, no doubt they’ll find other ways to get me. Remember the old days when you only had to worry about the mechanics of your vehicle? Why in the hell would you introduce another piece into the mix, a piece that, just like everything else on the car, is guaranteed to fail at some point in time?
I talked to the repair shop at the local authorized dealer. They said the feature can’t be disabled. I call bullshiats on that! Instead, they recommended I pay close to $500 to have the entire ignition stuff replaced which would also include a shiny new key. I’ve tried really hard and I can’t imagine any possible motivation for why they’d tell me a feature in their car can’t be disabled. Meh.
Being stuck in your car because of a design flaw when you have somewhere to be is one of the most frustrating and helpless feelings in the entire world. I know because that’s my daily existence.
But that’s just the way I roll. Or not, as the case may be.
Perhaps I know what the microwave was trying to say after all…