Anastasia and Drusilla

The other day, I mentioned in passing that my corroded and broken toilet-flusher knob was not the ugliest (or, for that matter, the most useless) feature of the AssVac, and beardonaut (which, by the way, is pronounced beardo-naut, like astronaut, and not bear-donut, like I was thinking) asked what were the ugliest and most useless things in the house. I've thought about it for a few days, and this morning I made up my mind and went a-picturing.

Exhibit A:

Oh, I kid. I'm kidding, jeez! I love you, Johnny. Although you have been kind of useless lately, and you could certainly do with a shower and a shave. What's up with that? And hey, why are you smoking Marlboro Reds this morning? You said you were quitting (and I said I have a house for sale) but instead you switched from lights to regulars? Well, at least now it won't be such a slow and malingering death I'll have to be watching over. Speaking of which, I guess I'd better take out that life insurance policy we've been talking about for ten years, and I'd better do it before your 50th birthday rolls around next March.

Holy crap, my husband's 50.

I would just like to state, for the record, that I am not. I am only 39. And not the wink-wink kind of 39 that means I'm lying. The real 39 that means -- that means...

Holy crap, I'm 40.

Moving on...

The Ugliest Feature of the AssVac, For Real This Time:

You like? It's breathtaking, isn't it? It's the hole where the old range exhaust fan used to vent, which has (for the past two years) been plugged with Great Stuff. The old range exhaust was literally a fan, installed directly into the wall over the stove. You pulled a chain to start it up, and when you did it would grunt and swear and cough up something disgusting. Good thing the stove was too exhausted in its own right to require any venting.

Ooh, and she has a little sister where the dryer used to vent. But little sis ain't quite as ugly. This one just makes it look like the AssVac's taking a poo.

And why shouldn't my house poop?. From what the kids tell me, these days, everybody's doing it.

[These next pictures have nothing at all to do with the subject at hand, but while I was out there with the camera I decided to take a picture of the melted grill, just in case there are folks out there who don't believe me:

Can you see it there? The buckling? How about here:

Curse you, butt-chicken! Curse you and your rendered-fatty goodness!

Okay, I'm back.

The Most Useless Thing in the AssVac Today Aside From Johnny:

I put the "today" in there as a qualifier because you never know what I might break tomorrow. And because I finally ripped the useless doorbell-button off the wall. So here's the winner, as of right this very second while I type this:

No, not the cat (although she isn't really good for too much, come to that): the sliding-glass door in my bedroom! It wins because it's useless on so many different levels...

As a window, it fails because it looks directly out into the neighbors's yards (yes, two of them) straight from my, ahem, bedroom -- so I have to keep the curtains always drawn (because I'm not so good at knowing ahead of time when I might decide to drop my drawers). It fails as an air-circulation system because the contractor absconded with the screen door when I threatened to sue him for breach of contract. And even as a door it fails, because it opens out into a Wile E. void. It does let lots of light in, but in the wintertime it also hemorrhages heat, so that's a wash.

We put it in when we de-rottified the addition because we were going to build a deck out back, and we thought it would be nice to step straight out from the bedroom to the veranda for a cup of tea. It would be, wouldn't it? Unfortunately, the veranda looks like this:

Which doesn't count as the ugliest part of the house because it's not technically part of the house yet, despite our best intentions on this road to hell. I don't know which the neighbors would rather look at: that mess, or my fat white ass.

Oh, and Mr. Contractor absconded with the lock, as well, so right now the door is just jammed closed with a stick. If we ever do get around to building that deck, so that robbers wouldn't need a stepladder to reach the handle from the outside, I'm really going to have to do something about that. In fact, I did call the manufacturer once, to inquire what I ought to do about the lock and the screen (this was back before I realized the boulder was only going to keep rolling back down the hill and so I might as well just quit pushing it up). You know what they told me?

Get a new door.