I finally got around to ordering a new battery for our laptop.
The old one had been dead for about a year-and-a-half, which is a pretty standard timeframe for me to get around to doing something (SEE ALSO: tax preparation, toenail clipping, vasectomy scheduling).
It’s like I always say: “There’s no I in team, but there’s at least one – and possibly even two – in procrastination, depending on one’s spelling ability.”
Ditto for apathetic. And idiot.
Anyway, it’ll be nice to roll up the quarter-mile of extension cord we’d been dragging around the house.
Better than receiving the battery itself, however, was the included “instruction manual” — a double-sided sheet outlining a series of warnings in five different languages (one of which is almost English-like) that makes those cautionary statements related to the Happy Fun Ball! seem relatively reasonable.
In the interest of your safety, here are some of the warnings:
Noooooooooooooooooooo!
Never throw the battery pack into fire, as that could cause the battery pack to explode. (Which would be TOTALLY AWESOME, but whatever.)
Never expose the battery pack to any liquid. (Particularly Bud Light Lime.)
Never expose the battery to direct sunlight. (It’s a Cullen.)
Never hammer a nail into the battery pack. (Your natural inclination when receiving a laptop battery.)
Never store or use the battery pack in a locked and unventilated vehicle, where excessive internal temperatures may be encountered. (But it’s okay to store it in an unlocked vehicle.)
Always keep the battery pack out of reach of infants or small children. (The same holds true for glitter.)
Never shock the battery pack by dropping it or throwing it. (Or putting it in a figure four leg lock.)
Additionally, one should never shock a battery pack by…
…telling it that Hostess no longer makes powdered sugar doughnuts.
…showing it an episode of Toddlers and Tiaras.
…handing it a credit card statement with $750 in charges for acorns in Ice Age Village.
…having it walk in on its parents attempting the Butter Churner.
…forcing it to change a meconium-smeared diaper.
…sending it to a Chuck E. Cheese with $50 and four young children.
Ah, screw it. I’m just gonna chuck it in a fire and see what happens.
