I hate my washing machine. I’m dead serious. I fucking hate that thing with the burning fury of two suns. Not because it’s a machine that causes me to have to get off my lazy ass and do something, I hate it because it’s a piece of fucking shit. An expensive piece of shit that I have to deal with it until it fucking dies.
My washing machine is a Fisher and Paykel EcoSmart 3.0. I’m telling you all this so none of you ever make the mistake of buying one. This machine is like that bitchy boss we’ve all had at least once that was so high maintenance you wanted to stab her in the eyes with the little chop sticks she used in her hair. “Oh, I’m a millimeter off center… BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP…” The machine is all digital, and some days you can just push the buttons and everything’s fine, but more often than not, that bitch is going stop mid cycle and start beeping at you until you turn it off, find a setting that works and try again. It can sometimes take 2 and a half hours to wash one fucking load of clothes. What makes this REALLY infuriating? The Fisher and Paykel EcoSmart 3.0 retails at $940. Yep. Just under a grand for a steaming pile of excrement. Have I mentioned that I once broke my toe kicking it?
I am serious when I say that if I didn’t truly believe that my husband would have me committed for it, I would tie one of my Dior scarves around my head, throw on one of my husband’s flack vests from the military (that would be just for fun), open up the big gun safe, and go muthafuckin’ Rambo on that bitch with the M-16. I HATE that fucking washing machine.