car trouble
Dec. 8th, 2006 09:39 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
phosfateSo I get home last night and the garage door won't go up when I push the button.
No! my soul cries out. Technology, why hast thou forsaken me?
The battery's dead, you moron, says my brain.
Okay, I say. So I go in the house and eat dinner and then start looking for a screwdriver. The door remote is held together with a teeny black screw. I put it on the breadboard and get t'unscrewing.
But the housing is a little sproingy, because of the piece of foam rubber on the inside that...I don't know what it's for. Keeping the battery warm. Nesting for the electrons. Anyway, I get the screw loose and it goes boinnnnnnnnng...sliderattleclickthunk.
Into the sink.
Down the drain.
Into the Dispos-all. With the deadly whirling blades.
"Fuck!"
Now, I've seen Mom stick her hand right in there any number of times to fish things out. But look where that got her. No, not gonna do it.
I need a strong magnet on the end of something thin.
What, oh what, WHAT long, narrow object in the house has a strong magnet on it?
Looking back, I probably should have taped a fridge magnet to a pencil, but the first thing that comes to my mind is one of the features of the Obitsu 60cm 2 Part Female Doll [Fleshtone] BALL JOINT MODEL" The strong magnets in the soles of the feet allow the doll to stand alone. It says so on the package, albeit in Japanese. Okay, it may say something else entirely on the package, I have no idea. Nice typesetting, though.
"Stop looking at me like that," I tell Tommy, as I'm detaching her right leg at the knee. Another feature of the Obitsu 60cm 2 Part Female Doll [Fleshtone] BALL JOINT MODEL is that its limbs are easily detachable, to facilitate putting on tricky clothing, repair, or replacement. She is left with a left leg and a right swizzle stick. "You'll get it back."
I return to the kitchen, stick the leg down the sink (foot-first), and retrieve the screw. And a small amount of an unidentifiable brown substance that looks sort of like that horrible brown blobby stuff you sometimes find on cooked beef. "Oh GOD!"
A few minutes later, I'm back in the bedroom. "Look! See! See how pretty and clean your leg is now? Neat, huh?" But Tommy's no fool. She hates me now.
Anyway, I washed the screw and changed the battery and the door works. The end.
No! my soul cries out. Technology, why hast thou forsaken me?
The battery's dead, you moron, says my brain.
Okay, I say. So I go in the house and eat dinner and then start looking for a screwdriver. The door remote is held together with a teeny black screw. I put it on the breadboard and get t'unscrewing.
But the housing is a little sproingy, because of the piece of foam rubber on the inside that...I don't know what it's for. Keeping the battery warm. Nesting for the electrons. Anyway, I get the screw loose and it goes boinnnnnnnnng...sliderattleclickthunk.
Into the sink.
Down the drain.
Into the Dispos-all. With the deadly whirling blades.
"Fuck!"
Now, I've seen Mom stick her hand right in there any number of times to fish things out. But look where that got her. No, not gonna do it.
I need a strong magnet on the end of something thin.
What, oh what, WHAT long, narrow object in the house has a strong magnet on it?
Looking back, I probably should have taped a fridge magnet to a pencil, but the first thing that comes to my mind is one of the features of the Obitsu 60cm 2 Part Female Doll [Fleshtone] BALL JOINT MODEL" The strong magnets in the soles of the feet allow the doll to stand alone. It says so on the package, albeit in Japanese. Okay, it may say something else entirely on the package, I have no idea. Nice typesetting, though.
"Stop looking at me like that," I tell Tommy, as I'm detaching her right leg at the knee. Another feature of the Obitsu 60cm 2 Part Female Doll [Fleshtone] BALL JOINT MODEL is that its limbs are easily detachable, to facilitate putting on tricky clothing, repair, or replacement. She is left with a left leg and a right swizzle stick. "You'll get it back."
I return to the kitchen, stick the leg down the sink (foot-first), and retrieve the screw. And a small amount of an unidentifiable brown substance that looks sort of like that horrible brown blobby stuff you sometimes find on cooked beef. "Oh GOD!"
A few minutes later, I'm back in the bedroom. "Look! See! See how pretty and clean your leg is now? Neat, huh?" But Tommy's no fool. She hates me now.
Anyway, I washed the screw and changed the battery and the door works. The end.