Pointless soul destroying ongoing fights with inanimate objects

The vacuum which always falls on top of me when I am using the hose attachment and the boiler which always turns off just when we are butt naked and ready to step under the shower.

Sellotape

The printer!

My DC still recount (all too often and all to gleefully) the precise nature and startling duration of Mummy's language the day I needed something really urgently one morning and attempted to print it before the school run.

And that's just one skirmish in the low-grade guerrilla war it has engaged with me.

My bed - the corner constantly smacks my knee... :(

I've found my people on this thread, it's not ME, it's EVERYTHING in the house!

For me it's my washing up gloves, the bastards always cause me a lot of aggravation

Not to mention trying to put a pizza box etc into a bin that's already mostly full...

The cooker hood; I bang my head against it every time I cook. I've lived in this house for nearly four years but still twat my forehead every time.

Weird thing is, I'm not sure if the resounding hollow thud is my head or the cooker hood

pina, your bra and mine must be in the same union. I require a large strong man to assist me in fastening mine.

Tuppawear (or any brand of plastic boxes with lids).

I fucking hate it. It's out to get me.

WHERE IS YOUR CORRECT LID YOU FUCKING PIECE OF SHIT? why? Why? Won't you stack up tidily in the drawer? Everytime I open the cupboard, you LUNGE at me, scattering over the kitchen floor. I hate you. I actually hate you.

We had Henry's cousin James at work and all he did was block and belch out clouds of dust.

A friend thought it would be cute to have a Hetty Hoover when she moved into her first flat, but she turned out to be a lazy slut.

All oranges have a tiny juice sac just beneath the skin, precisely angled to project a thin ßtream of acid directly towards my eye.

Also my phone hates me and inserts random German characters occasionally.

My dishwasher leaks randomly. If I put tupperwares under it, the fucker doesn't leak but if I forget it knows and leaks skanky water all over the floor and then I go and paddle in it and get soggy fucking socks.

I am large of boob and small of ribcage, and the only sports bra that can keep them under control during bouncy exercise is one with about seventeenfriggingmillion straps. It's like a fucking octopus and practically requires tranquilising if i'm to get it on or off with both arms and breasts still attached. I still wear it though. It's like i have sports bra stockholm syndrome. the bastard.

All the poor abused Henrys on this thread

We have a rug which just won't stay still. It moves diagonally, even when nobody has walked on it. Even when nobody is at home. I'm beginning to think we have a poltergeist with an interest in rugs

My chest of drawers has stood in exactly the same place for 24 years. DH still walks into it regularly

Yoghurts regularly ejaculate on me when I pull the lid off.

I quite like ducks tart TBH.

My parents also have a false drawer front just below the kitchen sink. The handles of their kitchen drawers are horizontal metal bars, attached further towards the middle of the bar, with the ends sticking out, if that makes sense. The handle is at exactly the right height to surreptitiously hook itself in my beltloops while I'm washing up and tether me, all unsuspecting, to the kitchen. I only notice when I attempt to move and can't.

And their kitchen cupboard doors are always slightly wider than I think so I hit myself in the face.

Also, my bras hate me and I regularly hit myself in the face while attempting to restrain my (admittedly voluptuous) bosoms.

Yes quiero and hollinhurst
I am not alone.
He won't die.

real I have a bed like that. Every time OH stays over I warn him to watch the corner of the bed every time he gets in or out. The bastard always gets him though and I frequently hear 'fuck' or 'oof'

B!oody shower, it has a nasty nature it's name is shifty fecker. Push the button to start it and zilch, try again and zilch. Stand in cubicle to reach up and get the spray head down to check it and the bastard sprays cold water all over my head. Then it grins at me, smirky type grin. Called its bluff by decapitating it and cleaning out it's innards.
Now its working but I swear it's smirking and waiting to attack!

My oven. I even started an AIBU thread about it. Turned out it was. It is a bastard.
I got an oven thermometer and that can read 210degrees while the knob is set at 125. Excellent.
Items in there cooking usually end up burnt on the bottom. Not pleasant I'm sure we all agree.

Have a heart people! He's only doing his job

Henry the bastard went to live with my dad who loves him and pets him
I kicked him for the last time after he fell over going in a straight line

Not sure about all the Henry the Hoover abuse on this thread