Pointless soul destroying ongoing fights with inanimate objects

Oh dear, I'm weeping with hilarity and sheer 'thank god its not just me' at all these wonderful posts.

Would this be the moment to air my theory that teaspoons are in fact the larval stage of coathangers - thus explaining how the former disappear and the latter mysteriously multiply? The way I see it, once the brood of shiny little utensils reach the appropriate point in their lifecycle, they creep away into a dark, warm space, wrap themselves a cosy little cocoon of clingfilm and gestate until it is time for them to spread their wirey, pointypokey wings and then swarm into your wardrobe to lurk and plan their revenge for all those indignities imposed on them in their early days...

There were cling film debates? I never knew that. I'm guessing honeydragon doesn't want that particular topic brought back up...

Loving this thread. So much anger from household appliances!

Although like a pp I also work where there's a printer/scanner that refused to acknowledge my existence. Anyone else and it its all "oh hello you again, let me scan that and sent it straight to your inbox" but we me it just...

"Nope, don't know that surname.
Or first name.
Or email address, sorry.
Who are you? Are you sure you work for this company?"

Ok, so I'm paraphrasing slightly but that's how "no results for that name" feels eventually.

I'm a lightbulb killer, I only need to turn them on, sometimes I only need to walking into the room, and they go. They just don't want me to be able to see. We go through a seriously huge amount of light bulbs. I used to think that it was a problem with the electrics but we have moved about six times and the only common factor seems to be me. I no longer turn on lights in other people's houses because of the frequency of killing their lights too.

We have two complete sets of screw holes for the bolt in our back gate. Every few weeks we have to move the entire bolt up a centimetre. A few weeks later we have to unscrew the thing and move it back again. Up. Down. Up. Down. Luckily it's DH who faffs with it.

ShelaghTurner

It's called a lock staple, or a latchplate.

It should not be flat, the tongue should be bent so it slopes back towards the frame/wall, so that it is a ramp to push the latch in, as the door closes.

You need a vice to hold the part with the hole while you bend the tongue.

As for foil and clingfilm: sometime in the Seventies or Eighties there was a bitter dispute in the letters page of Which - conducted at the sedate pace of a monthly magazine, it would be rather quicker and more vicious now - between the faction which said the serrated edge on the dispenser was a danger to children and should not be allowed and the faction which said it was useful and it was up to parents (although they said "mothers") to keep dispensers and children separate.

Not that I'm suggesting a MN rerun . . .

Henry the Hoover is a total fucking prick. Every time I pick him up by the handle, my finger gets jammed between the handle and the twizzly knob thing and it is SO PAINFUL. The smug, grinning little fucktard. Also, he gets stuck in doorways/on table legs/everywhere and the cord always managed to come out of the plug socket. I have kicked the horrible little twatweasel in his simple face many a time.

I love my Henry. My mother's ex hoover though was a bastard. One day I walked into it it sprang out from behind the door and viciously attacked me, breaking my toe. I was glad when it finally died and she replaced it with a less painful version!

The microwave. But only when introduced to baking potatoes by me. It's like a happy child going on a play date when DH puts baking potatoes inside it. But me? It acts like iI'm sending it on a blind date with a "really really interesting" distant friend. Refuses to cooperate. Refuses to build up any type of heat with the potato. Temperamental fucker. Just BAKE the sodding potato for me.

The shower plug hole hates us all. It blocks but there is no blockage. Then eats essential but easily lost bits from DD's toys and then drains like a super drainy fucker.

To equal things up with the microwave, the car air con and heater hates DH and refuses to work for him but it LOVES me and is super keen to make sure I am at perfect temperature on car journeys. I swear it enjoys when DH mutters at it.

I lost my fucking shit at our old toaster and beat it to death with a rolling pin after it stubbornly refused to spit out my breakfast, set off the smoke alarm and shat crumbs out of its arse one time too many times. Enjoy life in the tidy tip, you little fucknut.

Stupid fucking tubes and bottles of moisturiser, foundation, serum, make-up bits etc. on dressing tables.

They must think it's some kind of fucking game. To fall over. One after another. Every bleeding morning.

There they stand, all perfectly erect, lined up next to the mirror. I take one tube carefully and replace carefully.
Except, no matter what, one of the other non-involved items will decide to fall down and die in dramatic fashion ... If I pick it up another one joins in, until the whole lot are falling around. Fuckers.

I put them all back peevishly BUT 10 times out of 10 THE ORIGINAL WILL FALL DOWN. AGAIN.

I EVEN SPACE THE FUCKERS OUT TO STOP IT HAPPENING BUT LIKE A BUNCH OF PATHETIC DOMINOES ONE WILL FALL AND START THE WHOLE FECKING THING OFF AGAIN.

I have to add on 10 minutes to my daytime routine for 'Standing up the tubes & bottles time.'

I once slammed a bottle down so hard after it had deliberately fallen over ONCE AGAIN I gouged the wooden top.

It was worth it though.

Maybe I should give in to old age and give up the beauty routine...!!!

That's clearly my mistake honey

Wellingtons, three pairs of Hunters in ascending size order to be exact try hard knobbers that we are
I stand them up, we look all Country Living for all of about three minutes, then a person/ dog/ wood louse meanders nearby and they fall fucking over. I stand them back up..... well you can guess the rest

It's got to the stage where they're known in our house as "Wellington fucking boots" :o

I miss my dishwasher. It's still here, but it's sitting forlornly in the middle of the kitchen floor, disconnected from life, waiting for dh to finish this big job at work and then actually fix it.

I haven't done so much washing up in years.

Where dh disconnected the dishwasher from under the sink is now an open pipe. It used to take the water from the dishwasher. I keep forgetting that it is now open and when I pour the water away out of the washing up bowl it erupts from the little open pipe and sprays the entire contents of my cupboard with dirty water.

It is a bastard, without a doubt, but I am clearly a forgetful twat so I'll let it off.

The plastic caps from drinks bottles regularly fight against me putting them back on the bottle. Little shits always try to run away across the floor.

Yy to classics!

I'd like to add my bastard radiators. Three of them will not be bled. I have tried with four different keys/pliers/doodads. Who decided that this would be the best system?

It gives me an error message saying "poor quality"

How rude!

Not strictly household, but I sometimes get 'wrong weight' yelled at me if I do something wrong at the self-service supermarket checkout. VERY personal, I think.

This thread should go into classics

Other people's electronics.

Mine are all fine, but if I dare to use someone else's laptop/tablet/PC it breaks down. And I am known as the breaker of computers in my family.

It infuriates me because all my stuff is fine, I don't do anything any different on theirs.

Yoghurts regularly ejaculate on me when I pull the lid off.**
**
Funniest sentence ever!

yy to Tupperware!

My scanner at work, it's my nemesis. It gives me an error message saying "poor quality" whenever I even log into it never mind attempt to scan anything! Then it beeps repeatedly until I admit defeat and log out.

The junk cuboard. The bastard!
While trying to put something in there, the convo between us goes something like this....
It will fit
No it wont
Yes it will
No it wont
It will...haha told you!
I then walk away smugly only to open it several days later to be twatted on the head by said object.
Told you it would'nt fit
Fucker!

My Henry doesn't fall over.

Love this thread

My Henry mostly behaves himself but he does have a habit of falling over when the floor is flat. God knows why. He is much much better than the bastarding Dyson that we had though. That damn thing would attack me with the hose, trip me up, refuse to move across the floor, would clog the brushes at the drop a hat. Fucker, glad DP got shot.

My car. Normally I love my car but its starting playing its winter game again. I get in, start the engine and then it locks me in and turns off my airbag. Now it has a new trick, the remote is refusing to lock/unlock the doors.