Pointless soul destroying ongoing fights with inanimate objects

I think coat hangers are the ISIL of the Western world. They launch random attacks in the name of coat hanger unity. They are like some hideous deviant puzzle to which only they know the answer. And they have warring factions. Wire(the most malevolent type) v wood v plastic ( and the plastic ones have sub factions)

Their latest ambush was to get stuck in my sliding door wardrobes. Now I can't open them, so they have achieved total world domination.

The fridge when we've just got back from shopping.In all fairness I do warn DH and the 5DC that if anything falls out of there and attacks them it's not my fault,I blame the bloody evil fridge gremlins,I swear the fridge looks normal when I've finished with it but as soon as my backs turned the flaming thing explodes food when ever any one opens the door on it.

It's that or I need new bloody eyes

I particularly liked 'I'm glad it's got limescale'. 😃
For me it's the bottom rack of the dishwasher. It is a new dishwasher so there's no excuse. It just will not stay on its runners. I pull it out to put in a plate and every time it slips off like the whole thing is just too much effort and it can't be arsed to skip brightly down the runner like the other racks. Then I need to wrestle it back into place, only for it to slip off again as I push it back in.
The dishwasher's only saving grace is that it has a cutlery tray (not a basket) at the top which I love dearly (all the forks are together, all the spoons, all the knives... ). It just gets more and more upsetting as you go further down.
Just thought, maybe the bottom rack knows I love the top rack best?

Last night I got the little hand held vacuum out to suck up some crumbs on my kitchen floor. "I know!" I thought "I'll empty out the little filter bag!" Cue an explosion of crumbs and fluff and general shit all over the kitchen floor. So I had to get the big vacuum out. Bastard thing

Every time I open the fridge, the fucker twats me in the forehead.

I have a dent in my head now.

Whirlybird how could I forget about the Douwe Egberts jars....

I have had the same thing happen to me. Except there wasn't coffee granuals inside which could be cleaned up relatively easily, but with plenty of the 'oh ffs' going on...

Oh no, Murphys thought that jar would be perfect for keeping the reused oil in one day, you know the oil that maybe one day you will use again for chips or scotch eggs........

Fucking bastard oil went everywhere......... my kitchen floor was like a fucking ice rink for weeks............

Ive got to stand up for Henry. I have four (well 3 plus hetty) now Dyson on the other hand... great for vacuuming the floor but you try using the hose on the upright version to do stairs and edges. The bastard will throw itself on the floor in the manner of a two year old being asked to do something it doesn't want to. I hate it

*with

Steam irons are my nemesis. It sits there waiting for me to iron something delicate before leaving a line of limescale. If I try to clean it will limescale remover, its give up completely.

Mine is the loo roll holder. One of the suction pad ones that supposedly sticks to the tiles. Well ours does, but only for a roll that's been half used or more. It's like it has a weight limit written into its contract. Put a full roll on and it's all 'you can't possibly expect me to hold THAT! I'm going to fall off the wall in protest.'

You have one job, loo roll holder...

My huge jar of douwe egberts coffee deserves a mention (in truth I don't really like it but it had a pretty orla kiely pattern on it so I'm using it up to store something in it)

Sealed with the strongest suction known to man. When I finally manage to break the seal by somehow wrestling it and catching it by surprise, or getting in there with a knife, the fucker suddenly gives way and showers me and every surface within 6 ft with coffee granules. Which then weld instantly wherever they land.

What's wrong with a screw top anyway?

My printer. 'Oh I couldn't possibly scan a document (NO actual printing required) or even print it in black and white because I'm just feeling a little bit low in my Magenta.'
Prima Donna.

I can add to the evidence that my house hates me. Living room light has simply stopped taking power from the mains. Because it's winter. And it's dark. If I fall over something getting to the lamp again I'm torching this place

Taps, all the fuckeyed taps in every house I've ever lived in actually but my current house is the worst yet. I don't do anything unusual with/to them, I don't think I'm overly aggressive in my handling of them (yet ) so why do none of the goady little fuckers work properly? The cold one in the kitchen pretends it's turned off and then when I go back in the washing up bowl is half full and the sneaky bastard's sitting there merrily dripping away, the hot one however requires industrial grips to turn on. The upstairs bathroom hot tap refuses to turn on unless I apply exactly the right amount of pressure to its top whilst turning at the same time resulting in a permanent RSI to my wrist and the cold one requires three full turns before it deigns to dispense even a dribble. The ones in the downstairs loo are my nemesis though, I know their game by now and meticulously tighten them after use but still every time I go in there, often because I can hear the smug little cunts from the living room, they're both pissing water like I've walked off mid handwash and just haven't bothered to even try to turn them off which is exactly what they want DH to believe and the gullible fucker actually does. And we're on a water meter to add insult to fucking injury. I hate them, I hate them all.

Just this morning, the zip on my coat got stuck, and I told it to "fuck right off, you disgusting little shit."

I'm normally a very nice person, honest

Good yes my Henry is a fucker who is out to kill me. We have a lot of stairs and thank god I'm a robust woman otherwise I'd have been squished to death by him falling on me. He also gets caught on doors and ends up being dragged around unceremoniously until I can be arsed to pick him up. My 10 month old adores his though.

Door handles are another problem. We invested in some expensive knobs recently and as beautiful as they are they are fucking dangerous. I have nearly been garroted several time when my handbag has been caught on them. Similarly coats and flappy clothing also get caught and I am often seen bouncing around like a drunk due to being caught on my fucking door handles.

hehe the amount of times I've yelled at my computer for the various issues it's caused over the years is embarrassing. The arrogant shit just sits there not replying like it's too good for me.

My food has it in for my head. I open the fridge and the butter falls on my head. I open the cupboard and the rice falls on my head. I open the freezer and I am assaulted by sausages. I look forward to the day that I have to explain to the Doctor that my head injury was cause by a Pop Tart.

The vertical DVD player in my computer tower is second cousin twice removed to the till in Ronnie Barker's Open All Hours. One hint of bare fingers near it and it snaps shut. If you're lucky enough to have got the disc in it, when you've watched it, it refuses to eject.

Seatbelt in my car. When DH moves the seat back to his driving position the seatbelt is perfectly positioned. When I move the seat forward to MY driving position the arsing seatbelt nestles into the door jamb and I have to practically dislocate my shoulder to get the effing seat belt on. Misogynist git! It's MY CAR.

My cardie pocket hooks itself onto door knobs as I walk around the house, literally stopping me dead in my tracks.

Don't know which I want to funk off more, the cardie or the door knobs.

My oven turns itself off at random times of its own choosing. Usually when I'm cooking something involving lots of different timings.it fucking hates me.

I have a reusable co-op shopping bag that can be scrunched up small and kept in my handbag until I need it. I don't know who they designed it for unless the Co-op thinks everyone's arms are 10cm long or their legs are 6 foot long, but the bag is just too deep and when it's full of wine heavy stuff it keeps bashing the bottom on kerbs or slight pavemental unevenness. Drives me fucking mental. End up having to slightly bend arm all the way home to keep it off the ground. Then my arm hurts and I am tempted to abandon shopping in the street and go home and order a takeaway instead. The fucking straps aren't long enough to put over your shoulder either. Every goddamn time and I paid a quid for the cunt too, so now it and I are effectively in carrier-bag matrimony and I'm not allowed to replace it with anything else for the rest of my life.

Co-op reusable bags: for giants only, please.

I had a great time throwing Henry Hoover into the "hole" at the dump a while ago. He was launched with such force both the dump man and dh were amazed when he landed on the concrete floor. Fully intact. And still grinning like an arsing cock face.

I bet he'd still work now. Smug git.