White Trash Confessions

Just in case we might ever find some reason to get snobby or uppity, I'll post here that earlier this week we took the old coin-operated washing machine to the dump.

As I scroll back through the posts, I see one in January where I finally got around to taking pictures of the shitty thing.

So that means it sat in our driveway, right in front of the house for over three months.

It got snowed on, rained on, hit by snowplows and BMW's. But I don't think it was quite good enough to qualify for any special rewards on Blue Collar TV. Maybe if it had had some company, like the busted Dodge Caravan that sat in our driveway (with no engine) for the first six months we lived here, we could get a fancy TV show reward.

All in all, I think we're pretty safe from any sort of snobbery. But, if we start acting like uppity assholes just let me know and I'll go straight downstairs and pee in the sink.

Dzienkuje, Home Depot

Home Depot has instituted this new thing where they ask you what your P.O. number or job name is. I guess this is so you can somehow track your Home Depot spending, and is probably very useful to people who actually make a living out of fixing shit in houses.

When asked by the cashier about my particular project, I've always just told her to leave it blank.

But, last night I took advantage of the stealth-checkout option. (Stealth, because if I were half my current age I might try to take advantage of the lax supervision...)

So there I am, standing at the self-checkout kiosk faced with the daunting task of (oh my god, can I really do this?) SCANNING MY ITEMS! It's so complicated it's almost scary. I mean, you pick up your item and you swipe it over the sensor. And after nine or ten tries the thing beeps and tells you to put it in the bag. Don't you think they could make this easier? I mean... put it in the bag? How do I do that?

OH, WAIT A MINUTE. That's not me. That's what must have been running through the head of the guy in front of me.

Once WonderShopper was checked out and paid up, I swiped my single item across the bar code scanner. Once. It beeped. I put it in the bag. The machine said, "Unexpected item in bagging area," then shut up as it realized I was actually doing it right.

I pressed the FINISH AND PAY button and then, much to my delight, I was presented an on-screen keyboard which displayed the following instruction:

ENTER YOUR P.O.#/JOB DESCRIPTION

So I did.

I guess I'd better get right to work on that project.

Bunny Sadness

The bunny is going to be sad. My wife says so.

See, the bunny is dangerous to the baby. The bunny's nose can come off and kill the baby. This can't be, so we have to send the bunny back. They promise to send us a voucher to use to purchase another toy of our choosing.

But my wife says the bunny will no longer be serving his intended purpose when he is thrown away. She says the bunny will be sad. I told her the bunny will get to hang out with lots of his friends, maybe even some nice guys he met on the manufacturing line or some of the fun fellows he hung out with on the shelf at the store. She says he'll still be sad.

I really don't know what to say to that.

Here's the whole story: Bunny Recall