For me it’s the spa heater yes, it promises a wealth of relaxation and zen then without notice it starts working sporadically! Patiently you wait for that soothing burst of warmth as you get colder and colder, holding out hope for the perfect ending, Sometime you get it sometimes you don’t but there is always hope!
Well I guess I took you more literally and not sdo much for mundane matters.
The most evil thing under my roof is a Nazi arm band that my dad brought home from WWII. the leaset evil thing would be the Bible my Grandfather Kemalyan gave me as a child.
I don't despise alarm clocks probably because I'm retired. Actually my phone tells me it is 7:35 am every mornning and I kinda like that!
Clever as usual. The most pleasant thing is my washing machine, which at the end of its cycle plays -- thanks to LG -- a very merry tune announcing it is done with it's business. We have even put words to the four line tune, ending with "..come and play with me.' The evilist thing is obviously our trash ccompactor. It' presence is useful, yes, but unrelenting. Every third day or so, after the brief relief at dumping a full load, it reasserts itself. 'I'm full,' it announces, and if you ignore it, it just continues to grow and the guilt overwhelms, not to mention the smell. Can't live with it, can't live without it.
Will, I have a contrarion perspective on the alarm clock. I rue the day I no longer needed one. No more 9 to 5 for me. Further evidence of my over-the-hillness.
At first I was drawing a blank. I love our house and couldn't think of anything evil about it. And then, suddenly it smacked me in the face. So obvious it was embarrassing not to have realized it was there: Maggie. Our cat. Who has occasionally actually smacked me in the face. She looks sweet but don't let her fool you. She runs the place. For years she was an indoor/outdoor cat who loved to hunt at night. Which meant she sat outside our bedroom French doors at two in the morning howling to get in and ripping the screens if we tried to ignore her. And then after crawling all over us and sleeping on our legs until they cramped, she'd jump off the bed around 4, go the the French doors and howl to be let out. One time we decided to use a squirt gun on her to make her stop but she just ran out of the room and sat in the hallway right outside the bedroom where the squirt gun didn't reach and howled from there. FINALLY, a few months ago, we realized (it took us that long because she had so broken us we had Stockholm Syndrome) that we had two guest rooms on the opposite side of the house we could lock her in. So we bought a lovely cat box, some soft, delicately scented litter, put sheets on top of the comforter on one of the beds and water and cat food down, suckered her onto an available lap, carried her in and deposited her on the bed. It worked! Of course now we have to go through all kinds of games to keep her in or she'll try to scamper out when we exit the room, and one time I didn't close the door tightly and she escaped, but if we do it right, she's like Hannibal Lechter in solitaire. And it's changed our lives.
Upper kitchen cabinets! Because I’m a tad short the upper cabinets in my kitchen have a tendency to project their edges just as I’m bending my head near them. Evil things! They’ve really bonked me more that a few times and the corners are downright deadly!
I would like to expand on Steven Ugoretz's excellent point: Confusing the effect with the cause. Sometimes the things that provoke our strongest antipathy are the very things that we need. They are the loyal friends who tell us, despite our resistance, what we need to hear. Like your alarm clock, they can sometimes perform this function simply by being, without actually doing. Wanting ain't needing.
I fear that you are making one of the primary logical mistakes: Confusing the effect with the cause. Clearly, like any other semi-consistent human being you find the state of slumber to be your natural condition. Thus, anything that tears you away from that state of bliss is, ipso facto, quad erat demonstratum, and bibbidy bodily boo, evil. Everyone in the know, knows that Pure Evil resembles a smoking lump of coal (ref: Time Bandits) and will turn those who encounter it into hermit crabs. Therefore, there is adaptive value to avoiding Pure Evil in all of its' many forms, lest it turn you into something repellant, like a MAGA. You have been warned.
I don't think anyone likes the tiny ecosystems that form in the corner of a shower after a little too much time passes between deep cleans... because that means a back-breaking deep clean is on the horizon. Time to find some old rags to use as knee pads before I bend down and start this unenviable task that probably involves the inhalation of toxic chemicals.
For me it’s the spa heater yes, it promises a wealth of relaxation and zen then without notice it starts working sporadically! Patiently you wait for that soothing burst of warmth as you get colder and colder, holding out hope for the perfect ending, Sometime you get it sometimes you don’t but there is always hope!
this is a great answer, those things seem like the only work when they feel like it!
Well I guess I took you more literally and not sdo much for mundane matters.
The most evil thing under my roof is a Nazi arm band that my dad brought home from WWII. the leaset evil thing would be the Bible my Grandfather Kemalyan gave me as a child.
I don't despise alarm clocks probably because I'm retired. Actually my phone tells me it is 7:35 am every mornning and I kinda like that!
You reminded me of the German Luger my Dad brought home. My brother and I found it in the attic (unloaded of course) and it definitively felt evil.
yup I think this 100% is the most evil thing you could find in any house!
I think our new art may beat the alarm clock...
What art? I can’t wait to hear what brought out such a strong emotion in you.
I’ll send you a picture when I get home tonight! It’s a little creepy which I obviously love
it really is SO spooky
Clever as usual. The most pleasant thing is my washing machine, which at the end of its cycle plays -- thanks to LG -- a very merry tune announcing it is done with it's business. We have even put words to the four line tune, ending with "..come and play with me.' The evilist thing is obviously our trash ccompactor. It' presence is useful, yes, but unrelenting. Every third day or so, after the brief relief at dumping a full load, it reasserts itself. 'I'm full,' it announces, and if you ignore it, it just continues to grow and the guilt overwhelms, not to mention the smell. Can't live with it, can't live without it.
hahahah great answer!
Will, I have a contrarion perspective on the alarm clock. I rue the day I no longer needed one. No more 9 to 5 for me. Further evidence of my over-the-hillness.
Harry, tell me what time you don’t want to be woken, and I’ll call you!
Can't decide between early morning and nap time.
lol love this perspective!
At first I was drawing a blank. I love our house and couldn't think of anything evil about it. And then, suddenly it smacked me in the face. So obvious it was embarrassing not to have realized it was there: Maggie. Our cat. Who has occasionally actually smacked me in the face. She looks sweet but don't let her fool you. She runs the place. For years she was an indoor/outdoor cat who loved to hunt at night. Which meant she sat outside our bedroom French doors at two in the morning howling to get in and ripping the screens if we tried to ignore her. And then after crawling all over us and sleeping on our legs until they cramped, she'd jump off the bed around 4, go the the French doors and howl to be let out. One time we decided to use a squirt gun on her to make her stop but she just ran out of the room and sat in the hallway right outside the bedroom where the squirt gun didn't reach and howled from there. FINALLY, a few months ago, we realized (it took us that long because she had so broken us we had Stockholm Syndrome) that we had two guest rooms on the opposite side of the house we could lock her in. So we bought a lovely cat box, some soft, delicately scented litter, put sheets on top of the comforter on one of the beds and water and cat food down, suckered her onto an available lap, carried her in and deposited her on the bed. It worked! Of course now we have to go through all kinds of games to keep her in or she'll try to scamper out when we exit the room, and one time I didn't close the door tightly and she escaped, but if we do it right, she's like Hannibal Lechter in solitaire. And it's changed our lives.
she's not evil! She's just an opportunist!
Upper kitchen cabinets! Because I’m a tad short the upper cabinets in my kitchen have a tendency to project their edges just as I’m bending my head near them. Evil things! They’ve really bonked me more that a few times and the corners are downright deadly!
yup, that makes perfect sense, considering your height!
It's true! I've seen it. They hate you!
I would like to expand on Steven Ugoretz's excellent point: Confusing the effect with the cause. Sometimes the things that provoke our strongest antipathy are the very things that we need. They are the loyal friends who tell us, despite our resistance, what we need to hear. Like your alarm clock, they can sometimes perform this function simply by being, without actually doing. Wanting ain't needing.
Maybe I've been thinking about this thing all wrong...maybe my hatred of my alarm clock is actually the most evil thing...
Ha. One way to fix that:
Move out.
I fear that you are making one of the primary logical mistakes: Confusing the effect with the cause. Clearly, like any other semi-consistent human being you find the state of slumber to be your natural condition. Thus, anything that tears you away from that state of bliss is, ipso facto, quad erat demonstratum, and bibbidy bodily boo, evil. Everyone in the know, knows that Pure Evil resembles a smoking lump of coal (ref: Time Bandits) and will turn those who encounter it into hermit crabs. Therefore, there is adaptive value to avoiding Pure Evil in all of its' many forms, lest it turn you into something repellant, like a MAGA. You have been warned.
interesting! Much to think about here...
Actually, it’s the gelatinous sludge in your bathroom drain. Eww!
I don't think anyone likes the tiny ecosystems that form in the corner of a shower after a little too much time passes between deep cleans... because that means a back-breaking deep clean is on the horizon. Time to find some old rags to use as knee pads before I bend down and start this unenviable task that probably involves the inhalation of toxic chemicals.