Velociworld

MURPHY? YOUR LAW SUCKS

The belt popped on my dryer again, today, and I realize it is because I need to replace the front bearings. Well, screw that. Time for a new machine. I shall give the refuse lads an early Christmas present in the morning.

One good thing about a dryer. They are easy to shop for, because they have a very simple, singular function. They don't press, they don't fold, they don't mend, they don't embroider, they don't even put your clothes away. They fucking dry.

Sure, you can get plenty of fancy Delicate features, and Automatic Drying, etc. etc. All dryers have them. They are generally bullshit. They fucking dry.

And so, $317 for the Whirlpool during halftime and I'm home. Now, here's the rub: the insane jackal that designed the Hovel made the laundry room tight in exchange for more closet space in the master bedroom. And I mean tight. I have to shoehorn the appliance in to get the door to the garage to shut. Well, do you see turnip leaves on me? No, you don't. See, The Bride wanted a super capacity dryer, she being as slothful as me, and will wait until the children are wrapping themselves in toilet paper for underwear before clothes are washed.

And so I measured carefully. Old machine? 26 inches. New machine? 26 inches. Poifect! And yet after I wired it, replaced the duct hose, and shoehorned it into place, it was sticking out 2 inches too far. Farking fark! There was a bulge in the back of the machine, an unholy protusion, that wouldn't let the thing fit.

And so I can't close the door to the garage. But I had mine own huge wet pile of clothes on the floor, my unmentionables, every last damned one of them, so I dried them, and decided to move the outlet up about 5 inches tomorrow, and re-shoehorn.

If that doesn't work I'll knock the fucking wall down, and have a laundry room in my closet. That's not haste. That's expediting.