I am cursed. No two ways about it or excuses I can make: cursed.
Now, I don’t mean some head-shrinking witch doctor put some kind of bad juju on me for denying his credit card application or some ridiculous shit like that- but I mean that there is not a single electronic item that I touch that doesn’t either break, malfunction, or just act like a total whore to me for absolutely no reason at all.
There was one year I went through three motherboards in a laptop. The time a shit-ass electronics store that shall not be named FINALLY decided to hold up to their lemon clause and replace it was when the manufacturer sent it back. Broken. Even more broken than before. FAIL.
My camera? Well, I know there are things that it does that it should not do, and things it should not do that it does. It’s not like i’ve dropped it onto concrete more times than I can count- I’ve NEVER dropped it. I’m meticulously careful with it because I know that I have the opposite of the Midas touch- still, it fails.
And then there’s my issues with cellphones. Sigh. Cellphones. I fucking hate cellphones. And not because I don’t like to play with them, or because they waste a hell of a lot of my time with their fantabulous applications for just about everything you could ever imagine, and not because it’s how people can reach me even though I don’t want to be reached but i’m always too damn lazy (or obsessed) to turn it off, and not even because I feel like i’m missing an appendage when I don’t have it and I feel as though that might be unhealthy. No. None of those reasons are THE reason I hate cellphones. I hate cellphones because they hate me.
I won’t even go into the list of things that have gone wrong in the past, because it is far too long to even begin. I fear I would never be able to stop.
Let’s just say they don’t last long when they are in my possession.
My last purchase was my first “smart” phone (yeah I got tricked with the one before it. It was a dumb-ass ‘feature’ phone, what the fuck is that anyway?? A ripoff, that’s what!). I read the reviews to make sure nothing wonky would go on that had nothing to do with me (that of course, I would blame myself for). It had AMAZING reviews. The best reviews i’d ever seen on a phone (not that I read them all the time. That would require things like effort. And an attention span lasting more than 5 minutes- oh look, a piece of hair on my shirt!)
Basically, it wasn’t a piece of shit, so me messing it up would be a lot harder to do.
would be proud
Wrong. From day one that thing plagued me like an oozing black pustule in the 14th century. It lagged, shit didn’t load up right, things went missing- and it LOVED to restart on its own for no reason. The breaking point was when the power button stopped working completely. Yeah, try working with that one.
I figured all cell providers were greedy choad-breathed douchebags (duh) that didn’t give two shits about my wonky phone , so i’d never bitched to them about it before- but that was the last straw.
And MUCH (and I do mean MUCH) to my surprise, they replaced it. PRAISE JEEBUS! Brand new phone! Same phone as before, but NEW. No more wonkiness!
Yeah well, the phone might not have been wonky, but in all that hoopla and hullabaloo I forgot about myself and my curse.
I am a clumsy DERP and that will never change.
Day one: dropped it face down on some fucking concrete. FUCK. Now it looked even more beat up than the previous one. Fabulous.
Week two: In the rush to leave the house, and I always figure i’m like a child and as soon as we step out the door the urge to urinate will be so strong that i’ll tinkle in my pants, and that’s no fun at all- so I make a quick trip to the bathroom.
YAY there’s pee already in the toilet because the kids don’t seem to understand the concept of flushing- it’s a darn good thing I had to pee so I saw it and flushed it before we left and it began to fester!
Down go the pants, and then I hear it: SPLOOSH. BANG.
There goes my brand new phone, right on into the peepee water, and quickly making it’s way down the chute.
Not the proudest moment of my life, but I plunged my hand right into the pee and yanked that thing out as quickly as humanly possible.
Now not only has my phone felt the curse, but it has joined the ranks of the couch in PISSY status. Now I get to have the PISSY PHONE, if it even works! Every time I use it, I will think of how it took a bath in the yellow stuff.
Oh, and did I mention that today- after waking up on the COUCH at 5 this morning, I decided it would be an amazing idea to brush the sweater off of my teeth when I was greeted by a toothbrush that wreaked of human remains and fish?
Yeah, i’m pretty sure that sucker took a bath much like my phone did. I am not sure who, but somewhere (i’d be willing to bet in this house), someone is on my shit list.
Maybe i’m looking at the problem completely wrong. Maybe it’s not ME, or bad juju, or cursed electronics, or my super-derpy nature- maybe the problem is in three simple letters. PEE!
And there’s not a damn thing I can do about it, because i’m pretty damn sure that minus some random act of the gods, I will be peeing for as long as i’m living, as will all the things around me- and like life tends to do, occasionally these things will pee ON me. And everything I love.
That doesn’t mean I have to like it!!
@SuperShanFIT at least three times a week. AT. LEAST.
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