Friday, July 8, 2011

What I Have to Say to the Two Sewing Machines Living in My Home

To Sewing Machine #1, 

I know you were a gift, but you are evil and you must be destroyed.  You suck so badly that I think even your bobbin hates you.

Would it kill you to at least pretend like you and I get along?  You just can't take it that I'm more creative than you are.  You jealous, unworthy, heartless hunk of crapola.  

I will sell you.  Don't test me.  You owe me many dollars for the thread you've decided to eat instead of make into beautiful garments.

I know you can't see it, but I am flipping you the bird.

To Sewing Machine #2,

I thought you and I had a fighting chance.  You're a more mature model, loaned to us from my mother in law.  You did such a nice job producing straight, untangled stitches for my husband.

Boy was I wrong.  You must have had a conversation with Sewing Machine #1.  That bastard.  I don't understand why you listened to it.  I'm a nice person.  I tried to make sure I knew what I was doing before I used you.  I tried to be gentle and use pretty fabric.  What did you give me? Tangles.  Wasted thread.  Ruined fabric.

You can go back home.  Jerk face.

To Both of You,

I hate the grounds you rest on.  If I were as embarrassing as you, I'd sit with covers on too.

You made me feel like it was me.  Well, I'm not the one who sucks.  It's you.  Both of you.

Never again will I put fabric through you.  Never again shall a bobbin be threaded on you.  I wish you bad things.  Bad things, you hear!

Do not try to contact me again after this.  You are dead to me.

The woman who could have made you famous