Requiem For A Piece Of Junk

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For what it’s worth, I hated that thing.

 

“Hate” is a strong word, but so is “floccinauccinihilipilification“, which pretty much describes to a “t” (and several other letters), what that thing meant to me.

 

For five years, the supposed light source in our dining room has been the very epitome of the bane of my existence.  Never once in all or that time was I able to successfully get five bulbs to burn at one time in that thing.  That’s regardless of whether it was the traditional and maligned incandescent bulb which Edison gave us, or the dumbass yogurt covered curly fry of a CFL that junk science and the Pelosi/Reid Congress gave us.  In my opinion, the absolute dumbest thing that W. ever did was sign that offal laden piece of crap into law.

 

But now, ladies and gentlemen, that low lux piece of flotsam which littered my vaulted 12 ft. ceiling has been removed and replaced with a ceiling fan that is guaranteed to illuminate the darkest recesses within the family room.

 

The guilty party which no longer remains suspended from the vaulted ceiling now resides in pieces in the garage. It will transition to the trash shortly.

 

Good riddance.

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