This bag's warning symbols are at once horrifying and hilarious.
Kind of like when Sarah Palin danced along to Amy Poehler's rap on SNL.
You see it, and you sort of laugh, but then you sort of go, "Oh my GOD."
And then you blog.
The really sad thing about my last post is that the blocks from my apartment to Whole Foods and TJ Maxx are all numbered and on a grid.
Versus traveling in the other direction from my apartment, which involves some really tricky stuff. Like, there's a highway underpass where roads go from being on a grid to being in something of a really off-centered and broken clover, with one-way roads becoming two-way roads and two-way roads becoming one-way roads and, MY FAVORITE, one-way roads that just end. So you're driving down the one-way street thinking you're going the most direct way ever, except then all of a sudden it becomes one-way in the OTHER direction, and you have to turn off it and go some totally wrong direction and next thing you know? You're miles from where you intended to be.
I have to navigate this maze anytime I want to go to the nearby shopping center, which is what I was doing yesterday to go to Office Max. Except I maybe got a little confused and ended up driving directly to Office Depot in an entirely different shopping center. Potato, po-depot.
I was on a quest to get an all-in-one printer/scanner, since the one I have is old and clunky, and all its cables are missing. I popped in, looked for about 5 minutes, found a good one for a good price based on all of extensive research (extensive research = "I should get a new printer/scanner!"), and left happy.
Until I got home and spent a good two hours doing the install.
I eventually had to call for help with the install, which I hate doing because 9 times out of 10, the customer service person thinks you're an idiot. (Or maybe that's just me.) The guy I talked to yesterday was professional, but could not completely disguise the contempt in his voice for having to walk another dingbat through an install process. And so with this guy, as with ALL the customer service guys I end up on the phone with, I try to focus on NOT sounding like a dingbat. Because hey -- I DO know what I'm doing, I'm NOT technically disabled, and the customer service guy will soon be realizing that the fault is HIS and NOT MINE and I will be vindicated. Save your contempt for an actual dingbat, buddy.
But of course yesterday, with the snottiest man EVER on the phone, the problem WAS mine. And not a big, thorny, justifiable problem, either. My entire issue was that the USB cord wasn't plugged securely enough into the printer. So my install failed -- TWICE -- because I didn't push the cord in hard enough.
Aside from having the ability to print wirelessly in my own home (which, I will not lie, makes me feel like I live in the future), I now have the ability to scan again. And as I've been saying, I have alllllll kinds of goodies to start sharing with you.
This morning, I decided to grab a box I have full of "random" pictures, to see what would inspire me. I sat down with it, opened the lid, and was utterly confused. These aren't my pictures, I thought. What the -- oh ACK! And GAH! And...ACK!
Of all the decorative shoe-like boxes in the entire world, we happen to have TWO of the exact same ones in this house. One is full of my old photos. The other is full of love letters between Ish and his ex from I don't even know when.
And while this isn't the point of this post at all, I will say this: I think it's sweet that Ish has kept these. In fact, despite an incredibly painful and unpleasant ending, Ish has never been anything but respectful of his relationship with his ex. I appreciate that and think it says a lot about his character.
That doesn't mean that accidentally opening the wrong box filled me with glee. No, it was a little more "throw up in my mouth a little, close the lid, return box whence it came." Bah.
And ALL THIS is to say that I have not scanned anything new yet, but at least owning a (working) printer/scanner is one step closer.
In the meantime, I will show you the most frightening images ever, that came on the plastic bag the printer was wrapped in.
The first one is telling me, I think, not to let my child go crawling around with a plastic bag on its head. Except that's not what I see.
If your Tylenol Gel Cap suddenly sprouts appendages,
do not try to balance an old-fashioned television set on it!
The second image is probably telling me not to put the bag on my head. But again, how can one be sure?
If you are using your giant hand to secure a water bottle
over your head, DO NOT sing opera!
Want to join in the fun?
What would your captions be for these horrifying, hilarious warnings?