My scale is possessed by a demon. I have proof. This morning as I inched closer to what I now refer to as Satin's spawn, I debated whether I should dare climb upon it. Knowing full well its numerical trickery, I gather the courage to take the first step. As I stand there watching the numbers flicker like a video slot machine, I pray that the integer of my gravitational force will be slightly less then last week. Finally, the charlatan flashes the one number that spins my entire day into an infinite downward spiral.....NOOOOoooooooo.......it mocks me! ***fist waving*** I try again thinking this can't be true...you devilish piece of $h!t, what's the real number? I pounce, eager for the truth. Yet again, I am fooled.....I have gained for the second week in a row. Blaspheme I tell you!
If I wasn't so cheap I would throw the cursed piece of machinery into traffic, but I am so behind the bathroom door it sits waiting for the time when it can strike again. I swear I heard it laugh as I walked away dejected.
i vote for stomping on it a couple of times, throwing it out the window...running over it...and tossing it into the gutter
ReplyDeletescales. ewwww - hate them.
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