I have come to the conclusion that something, out there :eek: , somewhere, is conspiring to get me. Every day objects have been turned into weapons. Perhaps not of the mass destruction variety. Not even of minor destruction, but weapons of minor annoyance.
And we all know how damaging minor annoyances can be. After all, annoyance leads to irritation. Irritation to anger, and anger to… yes that’s right; The Dark Side.
You already know about the tinfoil incident. But that was not the last such occurrence. Today the photocopier tried to chop my finger off. Luckily I escaped with merely a teeny tiny cut, but I know its game. Oh yes. It cannot fool me.
But it isn’t only physical damage these appliances are determined to inflict. On Sat as I attempted to cook some food, not one, not two, but four sausages escaped the grill and landed on the floor. The oven was trying to starve me into submission. Luckily the rashers fared better, so we did not give in.
They won’t defeat me. I shall fight on. I shall not be overcome. I shall fight on as though I have so much heart that it’d explode all over the television
- quote stolen from In Fact Ah’s piece on the great Shane Horgan ↩
Apparently the appliances have no idea who they're really up against.
The sausages thing was hilarious though. Really. It reminded me of the times when my darling Harley-cat (RIP) would accidentally fall off the couch while sleeping and spring back up pretending nothing had happened. And I would pretend along with her, to preserve her considerable dignity. It's so rare for you, my dear Fence, to cock something up, that seeing it happen is always a sight to behold.
But just as I used to blame my kitty's falls from grace upon that graceless mound of hair that is the Muffin-dog, I will join with you in blaming, the ah, oven. Yes. The oven. Heh.
That is correct Anne. Those cheekly sausages, for example, were done away with, carried out in the trash. Retribution shall be mine.
NM, sick people eh?
No, just hitting someone with a closed fist.
That's a damn shame, Fence! The four sausages are total deserters.
So what you are saying NM, is that sausages escaping your stomach is only occasionally funny?
Indeed Andi, they showed no courage under heat.
Yup. It was hilarious on that occasion because I wasn't overly pushed about having them and there was an alterna-lunch available, in the form of rasher sandwiches. If I was dying for sausages, like I was during the Year of Hell in Edinburgh, then it would not, on such an occasion, have been hilarious. At all.
Fight the good fight…though you may have to come to terms with the fact that the machines have already won!
If they've won then I'll start the resistance.
Well, you know what they say: it ain't paranoia if they're really out to get you… ;-)