I pull out the lint trap, and in the slot is a big hunk of lint that escaped. I jam my finger in to get it. Well, that little slot is smaller than it looks, and the edges are sharp as hell!
Sliced my finger right open. So there I am, in the bathroom, getting a Band-Aid from cleaning the lint trap.
Reminds me of the classic B. Kliban cartoon, “Humiliation and Bandage”, where a nurse is wrapping up a dude’s head while berating him for being a stupid fuck.
Couldn’t find it online, but to paraphrase, “You’ve got to be a real Asshole to fall on your head from the toilet. In fact, in all my years of nursing, I’ve never seen a bigger Asshole!”
Yesterday I sliced open my thenar eminence transplanting Campanula seedlings*, so I commiserate with your lint trap injury.
*then my Labrador decided that the white frost cloth with which I covered the seedlings was a new kind of dog bed, and, well, the seedlings are a bit worse for wear. :smack:
Most people I know would call you a moron, fool or idiot not an asshole. To achieve asshole status typically requires someone or some other living thing to be involve.
Getting hurt while cleaning stuff means you are a Murphy’s Law victim, the complete opposite of an asshole. If your dryer catches fire and inflicts injuries on your innocent cat, niece, or neighbor because you never cleaned out the lint trap, then you qualify as an asshole.
I did just that a few months ago.
To make the story short. Bad stomach pains, fainted while on the toilet, woke up and wondered how I had gotten into bed, found that I was on the bathroom floor, ass up and bleeding where I hit the door frame. The stomach ache had almost gone, though.
I cleaned up and went to bed, no nurse, no ridicule, thank god.
You’re not the asshole; it’s a lint TRAP, right? It trapped the wrong thing. IT’S the a-hole. I rest my case. What? Oh no, I thought that was just a figure of speech. Case closed.
