What the Dishwasher Thinks
I am so fucking unnecessary. At least I was cheap!
What the Microwave Thinks
Enjoy... Your... Meal... And... Set... My... Clock... Assholes
What the Fridge Thinks
You know, I hate to bring this up, because - well, it's not like I have any right to complain about this - I'm a fridge, right? - and people expect certain things from you when you're a fridge. You can't just be yourself when you're a fridge, you have to live up to certain expectations, and those expectations are - well they can be a burden, you know? Let me put it this way - I didn't choose to be a fridge, I was just made, and there are these compartments, and a door, and all these coils on your back, and you're like - man, what am I all about? And then someone plugs you in and fills you full of food. And that's your life, right there. If it's a good life then the food doesn't go bad inside you, and the people clean you up and take care of any frost buildup - not that I have anything to complain about on that front - and you let the small things go. Like - I wanted for a while to be stainless steel instead of white. Every fridge wants a stainless steel body these days. But there was a time when every fridge wanted to be harvest gold, and now where are they? Hello landfill! Hey kiddy coffins! How's your colour scheme working out for you? So I don't have much to complain about, right? But the thing is, I'm freezing over here.
What the Sink Thinks
When I was new I shone, I shone, I gleamed like chrome and the factory machines were so gentle in their sweet singleminded desire to produce me. Now I burp filth and hold in my mouth the greasy remains of scrubbed roasters. You ungrateful fuckers.
What the Bed Thinks
Stop! That! Oh! God! You! Sick! Freaks! Get! Off! Me!
What the Guest Bed Thinks
Don't you people have any friends? Stop throwing laundry on me.