Tag: Smoke Alarm

Could Anything Be More Annoying?

We hear a great deal lately about how much we all have in common. How human beings are so alike and have common interests and Kumbaya blah blah blah.

I’m here to tell you that is so not the point.

It’s not about how alike we are as people, cause actually we’re not the same really.

Biologically and basic human needs, sure. But there are many different religions and most have their own tenets.

We like different climates, foods, TV shows, Housewife franchises, ways of dressing and so many more opinions and beliefs that separate us.

By the way, that’s okay! Vive la Difference!

I believe diversity is what makes us all so interesting. What a boring world this would be if we all loved pizza. Wait, I think we do.  But you get the point.

Despite our disparities there are certain things we all agree on that unite us.

Stuff that drives everyone nuts and makes us want to scream, curse and tear our hair out. The incredibly annoying things that we all agree on without any arguments, bad feelings or calling one another names.

Ladies and Gentlemen, I give you some of the most common despicable irritations on the planet.

I begin with the fitted sheet. Who in the hell thought this monster up? Talk about a good idea going wrong. I burn more calories when I change a sheet than walking on the treadmill. Before you have successfully gotten the damn thing on straight you have usually sprained a finger, broken a nail or wrenched your back. And why does it keep flapping up from the corner?

No matter how large they make them, they always find a way to get smaller until they no longer fit. Seriously? What the hell?

Second on my list of things I can definitely live without would have to be emptying the dishwasher. No one would recommend that little activity to someone they like.

I know we can all agree that it’s a two-pronged infuriation.

First, we must load the dishwasher, then we must unload the dishwasher. I can’t tell you how many times I have told myself as I was putting the silverware back into the drawer, Buy paper plates, Stupid!

I imagine we all concur there is nothing as irritating as a workman who doesn’t show up. Except the workman who does show up and makes things worse. Or breaks something new while fixing what’s broken.

Here’s a fun one, someone talking loud on their phone in a restaurant or social setting. Raise your hand if you give a damn about a thoroughly rude and inconsiderate stranger’s phone call.

Let’s not forget running out of stuff when you go to use it. How many times have you had to squeeze the last smidgen of toothpaste out of the tube because you forgot to buy a new one? And how much fun is it to be in a hurry and rushing down the street until Oops, there’s a group of slow walkers eating, chatting and blocking the entire sidewalk in front of you?

One of my favorites is trying to get plastic covered bubbled packages open that hold items like face cream, make-up, or various items. They are wrapped so tightly you’d think they’d been shipped from Fort Knox. Just a giant pain and frustration. If someone wants my Oil of Olay that bad, for heaven’s sake give it to them!

And while we’re on the topic, anyone tried to close those supposedly resealable bags lately?

Oh the fun of misplacing car keys or your phone. This always made me nuts so I ordered something that you attach to them and it answers when you clap.

Only problem is I can’t remember where I put the darn thing when it arrived. That’s another thing everyone loves…forgetting where something was put so you wouldn’t lose it.

Lest we forget one of my faves, forgetting my password. I used to write them down on a list, but never erased the old one. So now I’m not sure which is the old or the new. I guess the list was a bad idea.

Anyone tried to read a confusing parking sign lately? Good luck with that.

And of course we must include: popcorn kernels that don’t pop, missing a step and nearly tripping or tripping, paper cuts, band aids that don’t stay on after you wash your hands, potholes, power outages, fruit that is sour instead of sweet having to retie my shoes constantly, eating a bad pistachio and Christmas movies in July.

And this is a real biggie for me because I’m so short I can hardly reach above the light switch…smoke alarms that start beeping at two in the morning. I can’t tell you how many I have destroyed with a broom. And they don’t die easily.

There are so many more things that drive us all crazy, equally and efficiently. Lest we forget the charmers who text while driving.

So in at least that regard, yes, we are all the same.

Lastly, I must add people who bitch and moan about stuff that is annoying.

Oh sorry, that would be me.

Hey, I’m just trying to shore up the whole we-are-one brotherhood sentiment.

I’m sure there are many more so feel free to send them along to me. Actually, it’s a bit cathartic.

It’s always so nice when everyone agrees?

I’m Innocent I swear it; You’ll Thank Me Later

I’m writing this blog from my jail cell in Beverly Hills. I’m not complaining, the service is great and the food is from five-star restaurants. Even the police in BH understand that it’s all about fine dining. They also provide Ugg slippers and the silkiest Frette sheets in here.

I think everyone should get arrested in Beverly Hills. It’s better than most people live.

But as usual I digress. By now you’re all wondering what I did to deserve all this opulence.

Well, you see it was actually all very innocent, and I still don’t know why they’re making such a fuss.

Apparently, something about me being made an example or some such tripe. But I’m guiltless and justified, and I know that everyone on a jury will absolutely see things my way. I believe they’ll not only set me free, but award me a medal to boot!

It all started the other night at three in the morning. I was once again peacefully sleeping after my two-thirty a.m. bathroom run when it began.

I knew immediately when I heard the sound there was going to be trouble. I also knew from experience there was no denying I’d have to do something quickly before all hell broke loose.

I pulled the blankets aside and walked to the closet where I keep my weapon and then crept very slowly.

I had to be stealth because for some reason it likes to toy with its victims.

I waited. Chirp…a few minutes went by and again, chirp. Then it began coming faster. Now the chirps were louder and a minute apart.

Chirp, chirp. Defying me, goading me into a fight. Another few minutes of this torture and I would lose my mind and jump out a window.

The offender was smirking knowing it had the edge against this short person now looking up at its evil face.

Ha ha it thought. You can do nothing, nothing to stop me now.

I held the broom handle firmly and lifted it over my head.

“Chirp, chirp, chirp” it barked defiantly.

I aimed and with all my strength I banged it.

Chirp, chirp, chirp, chirp it responded. Laughing that evil laugh it then started chirping faster and faster.

I lifted my weapon again and started to beat it until the battery flew out and it was silent. Michael Jackson must have written Beat It while he was killing a smoke alarm.  

I waited, nothing. All was quiet. Still attached to the ceiling bent and broken I

I picked up the battery and gave my nemesis the proverbial na na na na na.

Then after calming down with a few mediation breaths, I peacefully fell back asleep.

I knew I had to get someone to replace its vile battery, and I honestly planned to do it in the morning, but before I could even get my make up on, the bell rang.

“Who is it?”

“First Alarm. We’re here to see you about casualty 7360042.”

“Huh?”

“We need to see you immediately about 7360042.”

“Is this those television guys who play pranks on people?”

“No. Madam. We’re from First Alarm and we need to see you. Please open the door and let us in. We believe we have a victim in there.”

“A victim?”

“Yes, number 7360042.”

I dialed the Beverly Hills police and told them someone was trying to break into my place.

“Just a minute,” I called out. “I’m not dressed.”

“Well please hurry, we may still be able to save it.”

“Okey, dokey, sure,” I answered.

The police were still on the phone with me and asked if the robber had entered yet.

“No, they are still outside the door and I’m sure they are insane.”

“The officers are pulling up now, they’ll be in shortly. Just stay on the phone with me.”

I heard the door open and footsteps in the hall. There was talking and then I suddenly heard a knock at the door.

Beverly Hills police, please open the door.

It’s so nice that they said please.

So anyway, I opened the door and the policeman said, “I understand there is a victim in here, may we look around?”

“Huh?”

“Is there a dead body in here?”

“Of course not, look around,” I stammered.

The guy from First Alarm walked into the hall and pointed at the ceiling. “There, Officer, there it is, number 7360042.”

“Are you going to press charges?” the Officer asked.

“Absolutely, I want this murderer arrested. Do you understand this alarm could save your life? And this is how you reward its caring, comforting nature?” He asked me.

“Or it could drive me into a psycho ward,” I countered.

The policeman shrugged and placed the cuffs on me. By the way those bracelets hurt and they are definitely not from Cartier.

I went into a state of shock and didn’t recover until they put me in front of a camera for a mug shot. I begged to at least put on some lipstick after they refused my glam squad request.

They did let me fix up a bit because after all this is Beverly Hills and we’re civilized here.

So now I’m sitting in the cell watching my flat screen TV and waiting for my unbelievably expensive Beverly Hills lawyer to bail me out.

I see him enter and a policeman open the door.

“What the hell?” he asks smiling broadly.

“I’m so happy I amuse you, but I know these people are crazy. It’s a damn smoke alarm,” I whimpered.

“I think I can make it go away. There is a new law that protects you from nuisances, including annoying chirping in your home. I’ll use that and have you out soon. Although you look pretty cozy in here.”

Ten minutes later he was back and the policeman let me out of the cell.

I will definitely miss those Frette sheets.

I was shocked when I left the station and there was a crowd outside carrying signs.

CHIRP and DIE. Free the Victims of First Alarm. Someone had Beat It playing on their iphone. Kill the beast! Norma for Governor. Someone held a newspaper headline reading Newsom Claims Smoke Alarm Chirping Speeds Hair Growth.

People were snapping pictures and I was grateful I’d worn black and applied lipstick.

So now I’m at the Beverly Hills City Council meeting. Can you believe this? They are giving me the key to the City.

I guess most of them have had the same experience with that annoying thing and that’s why they passed the new law.

It’s called the anti-chirp amendment and I understand Congress is thinking of enacting it nationally. Lord knows those Bozos have nothing else to do.

So anyway, now I’m some kind of local hero. Geez, all I did was smack the life out of an evil smoke alarm designed to run out of battery power after midnight.

I guess it’s in its DNA.

But I feel vindicated because First Alarm now has a new product that has a ten-year battery. At least I won’t have to hear the damn chirping for another ten years. But don’t worry, I’ve got my broom ready just in case.