This morning

my email inbox contained a flyer for stuff from China. Sometimes I buy their stuff, I haven’t for a while. This email had an ad for a portable radiation detector. Why would I need one of those? Unless a nuclear war was imminent, I don’t think I’d need one. I don’t know, it was odd. I can see who would need them. Medical professionals, and people working around radiation. It’s just my paranoia I’m sure. I just spent about two hours of my non-refundable lifetime fixing the drum belt on the clothes dryer. Inexplicably it broke last week, and I was going to just ditch the whole thing, but a new one costs about $400 – $500, and the belt cost just under eight bucks. I decided to fix it. Pulling it apart was the easy bit. Putting it back together was a pain, and then there were the half dozen screws left behind that probably should have been screwed in somewhere, but where?

This has nothing to do with today’s topic.

Fuck it. If it breaks down again, into the landfill it goes. I don’t care any more. I’m not interested in recycling much. Since the enviro-nazis took over with their constant nagging I’m going to do the opposite. These idiots need to be recycled into the landfill of their minds. As of this moment, the dryer is undergoing a fitness test. If all goes well, I’m calling it fixed. That’s all I seem to do these days. Fix things. The tractor bucket stopped lifting yesterday. It was in an awkward place too. Halfway down a hill, gouging up the lawn. I realized I didn’t have any hydraulic fluid to get it functioning, but then in the process of getting more, I also realized that I’d never actually put hydraulic fluid in the thing, ever.

When I looked at what I’d previously used, it said “Transmission Fluid”. What the fuck was I thinking? Transmission fluid, Hydraulic fluid, Brake Fluid, they’re all the same thing to me apparently. Fortunately it didn’t matter too much. According to the tractor gurus on various forums, they’re almost interchangeable. “It’s not going to hurt anything. They are both gear oil. And contrary to popular belief, about the same viscosity.” I beg to differ. As soon as I put the right stuff in the bucket jerked toward the sky, higher than I’d ever seen it. It reminded me of sitting on the bus to school when I was about 15, and trying to figure out how to conceal the tractor bucket in my pants which had sprung into life because of the bus vibrations and the potholes in the road.

Wha…? I do…?

I’m done fixing stuff for today. I don’t even want to think about what else is broken. I saved money though, that’s the important thing. If there is a nuclear war, tradesmen might be hard to find. The tradeswomen can fix my bucket.. Ooooh sexist, misogyinist . I don’t care. Nobody who reads this is going to be triggered. It’s more of an illustration of how brainwashed everyone is. You can’t even think a thought without the thought police being in your head… It’s a fucking joke.