I wish that the advance of electronics had stopped at the push button phone. The whole world seems to be a home propane bbq. Still in pieces in the box. There’s an instruction manual in Mandarin and your knees weaken in the absolute conviction that the number of nuts will not match the number of bolts, of which three critical pieces will be Imperial but the rest are metric. You begin to slyly eye the propane tank you had so hopefully bought the day before and begin to wonder if you could take it with you to the bathroom, shove some wet towels under the door, and then open the gas valve and lie down. The Heavenly bbq’s will surely be eternal orgies of bliss.
God knows that you deserve it.…
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