Fuck You, I Win

I went to the store tonight, and picked up an AC unit. Heavy fucker, and had some difficulties getting it into my car. I got it into the trunk, only to find that it wouldn’t close. Pulled it out and tried to load it into the back seat – door wouldn’t open wide enough. I ended up having to set the AC unit down, back my car halfway out of its spot in the lot, and load the thing in that way. It was a little unnerving, particularly since there were a ton of people walking and driving by (and every other person was buying an AC unit it seemed). One car was waiting with its blinkers on for my spot, but gave up because I was taking too long trying to load this box.

A few pics, from the install process. Gah, easy installation my ass!

By the time I finished, it was a good hour and a half later, drenched in sweat and feeling fairly proud. I swear, the instructions that came with this friggin’ thing. Workable, but not without a good deal of deciphering and a lot of "Well, I guess I don’t really need to use that" going on.

Brevity and conciseness is great for poems, but when you’re writing instructions… why not use complete sentences? You’ve already saved money by printing the booklet in black and white… throw in a few articles and use proper grammar for fuck’s sake.

Sorry… sorry. This isn’t me talking here, it’s the heat. I’m off to bed. Gonna curl up on the kitchen floor, next to this lovely, lovely machine. I want it arctic in here, and I want it to rain ice cubes. I want it to be so cold, my nipples will be able to cut glass. I plan to have penguins lined up outside, banging on the door to get in. Air conditioning! Yeah, baby!