Posts Tagged humor
Do you really need four blades on your razor? I might be talking mostly to guys here, but maybe you gals have the same problem.
I’ve been shaving with a two-bladed Gillette Sensor Razor for about ten years. (I think it’s been ten years but time starts to warp after age sixty). I’m sure the Gillette Razor Blade Company hates me, and in fact, I think lately they’ve been doing something shady to move me up to a more expensive blade.
The Sensor blades I bought recently aren’t as good as the ones I used to buy. They don’t last more than a few days. I think blades that cost $1.80 each should last for a week. The “old” ones did. The new ones cut my face if I’m not careful. And they’re even a different color. I think Gillette has outsourced the Sensor blades to a manufacturer they very carefully researched to find the cheapest alternative with a reputation for making slightly inferior blades.
I say “slightly” because Gillette doesn’t want a consumer rebellion on their hands. They just want to irritate guys (and maybe gals) like me enough to move up to the four-blade turbo charged product that sells for about thirty-two bucks and change for a box of ten. That’s something like three bucks and change per blade. Are you getting my message?
I’m not going to be shamed or cajoled into buying more expensive blades. I’m going to fight this. My first response to this situation has been to buy a standard razor, the old-fashioned kind your Mom or Dad used. I get a closer shave, but I’ll admit it’s a little scary. I have to be really careful. It’s a lot easier and safer to use a modern plastic razor. And I have to use my Sensor razor to get the spot right under my nose. So now I’m using two razors.
The blades that come with my new old-fashioned razor cost seventy-seven cents each. That’s a big savings over the new improved technologically advanced models. But the problem is that now I have to use two razors. I clearly can’t go on using two razors.
Conclusions: I’ll have to go on using some version of the lower priced “modern” blade. I’m not going to fall for the lure of the four-blade model because I’m sure this “advanced” technology exists solely to satisfy the thirst for increased corporate profits.
I hope all of this helps.
My coffee maker died yesterday. It was six months old. It died of the mechanical equivalent of a grand mal seizure or a massive heart attack, I’m not exactly sure which applies. One thing is certain; the death was premature.
For the past two years, I’ve been trying to find an upscale coffee maker to replace my old, reliable, cheap Mr. Coffee. I am in search of a more aesthetically pleasing machine that makes better coffee. I’m not talking about a ridiculously priced espresso machine. I’m talking about a good-looking machine in the neighborhood of seventy-five dollars including tax that makes yummy coffee. I don’t think that’s asking too much, especially considering the premium coffee I use. If there’s anything my daughter and I agree upon, it’s the importance of good coffee in large quantities to start the day. For the record, my wife does not drink coffee.
There are not many coffee maker brands available in retail stores. Besides Mr. Coffee, there are only three or four other major brands on sale in major retail chains When my search began, I thought these brands represented the “best of the best” using the theory of Darwinian Economics. So far, I’ve chosen two of these brands to try with disappointing results.
I bought a sixty-nine dollar Cuisinart with high hopes. Unfortunately, I chose the color white, which turned out to be a bitch to clean. Within a few months, I grew weary of the futile struggle to keep the Cuisinart free of ugly coffee stains. Two months later, the clock broke. I was actually happy this happened. It gave me an excuse to buy another coffee maker.
I bought another Cuisinart, this time in black. It broke down nine months later. To add insult to injury, I did not notice any real difference in the quality of the coffee it made, except when I replaced the charcoal filter. The better taste lasted two or three weeks, then it went back to “ho-hum” quality. I will never again buy anything made by Cuisinart.
Due to my stubborn preference for cone-shaped filters, I was left with only one viable alternative in my price and shape range. I bought a sexy-looking Krups coffee maker. I expected the German reputation for precision and quality products to hold true for their coffee machines. As reported above, my Krups machine expired after six months. I’m sure the damn thing was made by a tragically underpaid worker half a world away from Germany. What is this world coming to?
It occurs to me that we are faced with much larger problems than poorly made coffee makers. I would gladly buy a coffee maker every six months if it helped to solve the problems in Ukraine and Iraq, for starters.
My printer passed away last night. The print head had a massive heart attack. I performed several emergency medical procedures prescribed by my HP Solutions Center–all to no avail. Funeral services will be announced.
A helpful store clerk at Office Depot informed me that printheads often break within two to three years. “It costs nearly as much to repair them as it does to buy a new printer,” he added, smiling. I did not argue with the man. Some critcal part of every printer I have ever owned has broken down within this time-frame, and it never makes economic sense to replace the part.
Yet, I continue to buy HP printers, despite their limited life-span and the outrageous prices of the ink they voraciously consume. HP is a market leader, and I follow the herd because I shudder to think what catastrophes await the buyers of lesser brands.
Most printers displayed on major retail shelves are made in horrid factories by underpaid workers somewhere in China. I tell myself the HP factories are less horrid and produce better products than the others. At least I know what I’m getting when I buy an HP printer–a short but trouble free life span and high quality inks at unconscionable prices.
My new printer cost $149.00 (on sale) and the new ink cartridges cost $93.99. At the risk of sounding unsympathetic and disrespectful to the dead, my old printer expired with about $50 worth of unused ink. My new printer is the updated version of the old printer. Naturally, the ink cartridges are not transferable. I had no choice except to buy new ink. This brings the total cost of my new printer to $292.99, not including sales tax.
As we all know, it’s not the cost of the printer that hurts. It’s the cost of the inks. I find that my color ink cartridges last about three months each, and the double size black cartridge lasts about six months. I am convinced the life span of HP ink is controlled by a secret technology kept ingeniously under wraps by the manufacturer.
My cartridges need frequent replacement regardless of the steps I take to economize on ink. If I avoid printing in color, my color cartridges still need to be replaced. The only explanation I have for this is that the secret HP technology enables the color cartridges to combine mysteriously to print in black.
If I cut down on using my printer, it makes no difference. In this case, the secret technology causes the ink in the cartridges to evaporate at a predetermined rate, thereby ensuring a three-month replacement cycle.
Adding to my consternation, it took me three hours to set up the new printer. This included a few breaks to watch my beloved New York Giants lose in the last two minutes to the Dallas Cowboys. This did not help to elevate my mood.
It used to be easy to set up a printer. There was basically one way to install the damned thing, and it was easy to follow the idiot-proof instructions. Now, there are several options at every step of the process requiring an advanced degree in engineering to decipher. On one of the setup screens, none of the options fit my setup criteria. I finally decided to go on to the next step without checking any of the boxes. I expected to see an error message pop up, but lo and behold, nothing happened. I had made the right choice, that is–no choice. I had guessed right, but I ask you, doesn’t that sound a bit counter-intuitive?
At some point, we will no longer need printers, paper, or ink. Documents and images will fly through the air directly into our heads. Until that time comes, however, I could use a little advice on the subject.
“Stairway to Heaven” image by Sigurd Decroos / www.cobrasoft.be