So today I actually felt like cleaning my room. And I mean cleaning. Dusting, filing papers, sorting/tagging my music collection, and even caulking up a few cracks that I know centipedes use as subway stations. It was weird.
About an hour ago, I wanted to vacuum/dust my room. So I get the vacuum cleaner and attempt to vacuum. Suddenly the thing loses suction. I open it up and yep the duct tape that my dad had jury rigged the already ripped bag with had busted. At this point, I ask my mom if she ever bought replacement bags (we discussed this weeks ago) and she said yes. Guess what, they don't fit. She bought Panasonic bags for a Riccar Vaccum cleaner (let that sink in). I point this out. Her response: "But the sales-person assured me they would work! I bought this from the Riccar Store!". *sigh* How could someone with a Masters from a good university act like such a stupid bitch. NEVER TRUST SALES PEOPLE! 70% of them are trained monkeys who don't know shit and the others want to rip you off! If it's a Riccar store they should sell fucking Riccar bags for fucking Riccar vaccum cleaners. And IF you're going to buy ANYTHING from ANYWHERE you (OMFG) research what you're going to buy until you have the dimensions, hi-res picture, and serial number deeply traced in your mashed shit-heap of a brain! Then you know EXACTLY what you want and you can tell any salesperson who wants to "help" you to FUCK THE HELL OFF bitch. And here's the catch: IT TAKES ALL OF 10 MINTUES of GOOGLeING!
Now for my dad:
Just 40 minutes ago, I was a retard and put too much weight on my printer's paper tray, breaking the cheap little plastic nibs that held it up. I know my dad has a set of tools/equipment in the basement, but he'd just overcomplicate things. So I get ready to leave to pick up some 2-part epoxy and some plastic that I can cut to replace said nibs. Easy process, easy fix. Unfortunately, he catches me going out the door and makes a polite yet pointed farting asshole of a question as to where I'm going. Once again, I explain. He then says "Oh, you know I've got a lot of stuff in the basement! This is why I save this stuff to save money!" (Gleefully like a gay elf and a chimp came together to experiment with Paris Hilton's new perfume line) I am then figuratively dragged down to the basement and eye-raped by the huge collection of random crap and rusty tools he's been collecting over his lifetime. Luckily, there was a plastic widget that I cut up and it did the job perfectly, but aside from that it was a fucking nightmare. I received a not-so-subtle lecture on how to use epoxy (ie: "make sure you mix equal amounts" 10 seconds later: "A toothpick's good for that"). At this point, I pretty much give him the non-vulgar version "I've built high-powered rockets for NASA you bastard, I think I know how to use fuckingEPOXY!" After another high-volume exchange I gave him the "my printer, my fuckup, my fix" (I actually bought this printer with my own money). He backed off and continued his lectures, and I had to move to my bedroom and lock the door to keep him from "checking on my progress" every 5 seconds. Then my mom asked what was going on, and I filled her in on the situation. Unfortunately that involved me opening the door, which my dad used to politely shove his way into my room and my mom followed suit. Before you know it, all 3 of us are crowded around my printer, with them offering ideas that I'd already thought of and me shouting variations of "Fuck off! Bitches!". Finally I got them out of my room, and low and behold I fixed the fucker in 10 minutes! Right now I'm waiting for the epoxy to harden, but everything looks pristine. So they made the process 4x longer! ZOMFuckingG!. So I just confronted them with this and my dad gave me this smug-ass grin and said "We're just helpful people. We really like to help." As I'm typing this, I'm wondering whether to strangle him or not for that shit.
My Dad is a PhD in EE from CalTech, and my Mom has a Masters in Music from The University of Illinois! HTF did these two live? It's like their brains just turned to shit during my childhood or something! And I have so much sh!t on them from the last 3 years it's pathetic, but that's for a far more depressing rant.