my clothes hate me and want me to suffer
Just when I had been making spectacular progress on learning to do up my fly, it seems I am being sabotaged from within.
Or — shall we say — below.
My zipper just died.
Completely.
And horribly.
And utterly unrepairably* irreparably** unrepairably.
I am now faced with a day at the office positively filled with walking along with papers held at waist height, sudden and unexpected tears, and a tiny jingly noise coming from an errant piece of metal directly in front of my nobbly bits.
That’s it. I’m just gonna start wearing sweatpants.
…
* So it’s not a word. Get off my freaking back. My zipper just died. Jerk.
** I changed the spelling to “irreparably”. Some would say I “corrected” it. But it felt wrong. Dead. Empty. Cold. Clammy. Fish-scaly. The very soul of the sentence*** was gone. So I changed the spelling back. SOMEONE’S gotta make a stand. This… this is my line in the sand.
*** OK. It’s not even really a sentence. But this is my site and I can call it a sentence if I want to. I mean — C’MON! MY ZIPPER IS BROKEN!
TODAY, I GET LEEWAY!
November 6th, 2006 at 12:25 pm
Funny — Dictionary.com has a listing for “unrepairable” but not for “unrepairably”. However, if you ask it for “unrepairably”, it will suggest “irreparably”.
Once again the Little Guy is ahead of the curve wordwise.
November 6th, 2006 at 12:27 pm
God! My Dad expects me to be all grammatically correct when I AM FEELING BREEZES IN WHAT SHOULD BE A BREEZE-FREE AREA!!!!!!!!
CUT.
ME.
SOME.
SLACK.
November 6th, 2006 at 1:40 pm
Anything with >1000 Google results should qualify as a word. I mean seriously, it’s all arbitrary anyway.
Personally I’d be more concerned about future queries landing here looking for fly, zipper, “nobbly bits” and “little guy.” Kind of an unfortunate (and doubtless misleading) combination.
November 6th, 2006 at 1:45 pm
Have a cookie…that always helps
November 6th, 2006 at 1:58 pm
Do you have a stapler at the office? A couple of strategically placed staples might do the trick. I know, I know – you can imagine all sorts of nasty accidents happening from misapplication. I understand the apprehension. More important, though, is that you don’t let any of your co-workers (or, as MY WIFE calls them, Quirkers) see you with the stapler in your lap. Nasty rumors evolving from that will never completely die.
November 6th, 2006 at 2:47 pm
Apparently you have all the leeway and slack you need, given your current pants-around-ankle status and all.
November 6th, 2006 at 3:33 pm
And hey, you type a mean asterix.
So you got that goin’ for ya.
Which is nice.
November 6th, 2006 at 4:04 pm
RJ: I’m a little more concerned about the number of people that get to my site because they are searching for “little boys”. *shudder*
Alison: You DON’T WANT TO KNOW how many cookies I ate yesterday. However, their power does not seem to last into the next day.
Suldog: Not. Going. There.
Jenny: Quiet, Whittler.
Mike: “Asterix”??
November 6th, 2006 at 8:47 pm
I hope the boys didn’t catch a chill. Were you were wearing undies, not that its any of my business?
Let us know how you got on.
November 8th, 2006 at 3:20 pm
The boys were just fine thank you very much.