SOMEONE'S FORKING OVER THEIR SOUL

Duracrap...

Mother.

Fucking.

Durabrand.

Blender.

Almost set my house ablaze.

I had to return the first one I got because the blade was cracked and appeared to be soldered back on. Now, I sit here, with a half mixed smoothie in front of me, the rest of the puree in the fridge, and the unit's base taking it easy on my dining room floor.

Why?

Oh I'll tell you why, damn it.

I want a smoothie. I love smoothies. I could be on the Food Network when it comes to smoothies. So. I begin to mix this one, and it starts crackling and smoking.

Fuck.

This.

So I go out back, with the thing in my hand, ready to throw it if it explodes. It doesn't. It stops smoking. So I bring it back in. What the hell am I supposed to do, put it under water?

I put it on my floor and watch it, in case the bastard tries anything funny and erupts into a flaming ball of death. Inside of course. Fire extinguisher just across the room.

This little toasty piece of crap came from, where else? (I'll give you a guess.) Not Target, not Walgreens, not my local corner store.

Wal.

Fucking.

Mart.

The place that I've applied to every 2 months for the past 2 years. Literally. You know what, Sam Walton? You aren't good enough for me. You're old, if not dead. Why do I want to work in your slum store? Every day low prices? Fuck you. You and your prices.

Where's the humor in this entry? Read from the beginning again. This entire thing is funny. How the hell do you make such terrible products? Microsoft trumps this thing. Honestly. Coming from me, that means a lot.

Holy crap.

Oh well. Magic L word. Lawyer. Or is is Lawsuit? Oh well. If things work out in my favor, I won't be promoting this blog thing anymore. I'll be living up Clinton style. Someone, somewhere, is going to have their head taken from their shoulders. When it's over, I just may buy their house for kicks, and burn it to the ground. I'll have a package of Jet-Puffed Shmallows right next to me.