Thursday, February 22, 2018
Just In Case You Are an Idiot
What is this thing?
Mrs. Cranky likes to shop on-line. When I step out of the house I always check to not trip over the latest purchase that FedEx leaves by our front door. Seldom anything really expensive, usually just stuff that seems really great on TV, in real life…not so much.
Above is her latest purchase. What is it?
Stop reading now and guess; if you guess correctly, give yourself a WHOOP-TE-DOO! I’ll wait.
La de da de da…
The latest purchase works very well for cleaning glasses. (Did you guess correctly?)
It fits on a key chain so you always have it handy.
If you wear glasses, you know how their lack of cleanliness will creep up on you. When you do clean them, it is like a whole new world opens up. I like to clean my glasses often, so I do like this gadget.
My only problem with this new tool is how does it work? Actually I am not an idiot, once I know what it is I can figure out how to work it. But in case you are an idiot, they do include instructions.
There are apparently three steps.
1. Look at it
2. Place it near your glasses lens
3. Place around glasses lenses
I’m not sure they really needed to include instructions, but as long as they have instructions, they should include all necessary steps. They failed to show several steps.
They don’t show to gently closing the contraption on the lens.
They don’t show to rub it around each lens.
I Figured out those steps all by my self.
What am I, an Idiot?
Tuesday, February 20, 2018
Anyone who follows this blog knows I am very fond of Mrs. Cranky. Yes, I make fun of her but it is just teasing. The teasing usually comes back at me from testosterone lacking readers by way of comments which tend to side with my wife. Some readers even call me a jerk.
Readers also know I like to get away to my basement hideaway to watch TV, practice guitar and mess around on the internet. I believe Mrs. C also welcomes my time away from her. I am retired and she only works part time, without alone time our relationship might go stale.
“What are you talking about Cranky?”
Well for instance, we often finish each other’s sentences. We often have the same thought at the same time. We enjoy the same restaurants and TV shows. These are all good things, but sometimes this togetherness goes too far.
This morning, I was on the computer working on a comment to The Old AF Sarge’s blog. I paused for one second trying to think of just the right word.
“What word are you searching for.”
“What? I’m not searching for any word.”
“Yes you are, I can tell.”
“No, I’m just resting, thinking of nothing.”
“You are searching for a word.”
“I could help.”
“How would you express ‘progress’, but with a slightly negative connotation?”
“That works…now get out of my head!”
Marriage is great. Togetherness is wonderful. Having mutual interests is nice. Getting occasional alone time is important, but it is pretty difficult when one partner is able to get inside your head!
I gotta get to the basement.
Monday, February 19, 2018
A Mildly Unpleasant Cranky Sunday
Here in cranky townhouse land.
Sunday, we had no plans. Mrs. Cranky was taking an early afternoon nap, I was in my basement cave playing guitar and watching golf on TV.
Life was good.
Then, when I went upstairs for a snack, I heard a strange noise. It was the vacuum cleaner.
I chill ran up my spine.
I was usually the vacuumer, but why the sudden fear?
In a previous life when the vacuum cleaner came out if I was doing nothing, (enjoying oneself on my day off was considered “doing nothing” in a previous life) it meant trouble. The vacuum cleaning was the portent of things to come…bad things. Oh, there was nothing to stop the bad things, they were boiling and were going to bubble over no matter what.
There would be yelling and complaining and chores. Chores that served no major purpose other than to keep me busy. When the disease hit, relaxing on a day off made her angry. When the disease hit, I needed to be moving and busy. There was still yelling and complaining, and it was generally the same.
“How can you sit around doing nothing watching TV? You are so lazy and worthless; do I have to do everything myself?”
It didn’t matter that I worked 8 hours a day and commuted 3hours every day in packed trains with smelly disease breathing passengers all week, and once my son was in school she cleaned the breakfast dishes and then spent the afternoons with her friends smoking cigarettes and drinking wine. I was a lazy good for nothing because I watched TV on a Sunday.
I guess I could have told her to shut the F up, but it would not have worked. I knew that nothing short of domestic violence would have stopped the verbal assaults, so I jumped to and got busy doing something…anything and absorbed the verbal abuse until the disease let up.
On this Sunday when I heard the vacuum I instinctively felt the need to get up and do something.
“What’s up, why are you vacuuming, that’s my job, I’ll do it!”
“I don’t know, I just wanted to try out the new machine.”
“You’re not angry about something?”
“What? Why would I be angry? Go back downstairs and enjoy the golf.”
Sometimes I forget, it is a different wife and a different life.
I still had a twinge of guilt, so I did some laundry.