Time to get serious, Maru. It isn’t terrorists or Communists or even Bob Dylan that’s threatening our God given freedom in this great country; it’s laundromats. I’ll tell you why these seemingly harmless convenience shops are a threat to not only our national security, but our very way of life.
But first! But first I’ll explain what put me in this sticky pickle. For the vast majority of my existence I have lived blissfully ignorant the vile workings of a ‘laundromat’. Never before have my virgin feet stepped awkwardly through that threshold of dank pitiless squalor. This day, however, I woke up with an urgent need.
This frightening sight assaulted my senses this morning. That’s right, ROBONATOR has a great big load of three year old stank-ass Army gear which was in desperate need of thorough cleansing and exorcism before your trusted guide can depart this bland cesspool state of Kansas, rivaled only by the similarly inferior ARK-ansas.
So I had to clean my friggin’ gear!
Here is another view of the blast site. Forensics teams have broken into tears at the very mention of Mt. Gearmore.
I can casually admit without dispute the standard issue washing and drying units provided in my brick and mortar hospice can barely wash air out of everyday clothing, much less the repugnant stench and foul mystery stains that decorate my field gear. I needed a more decisive solution. It seemed reasonable that industrial washers and dryers used by the freakazoid populace of the bordering town should do the job. That is until I realized that the laundromat would also be occupied by the freakazoid populace. DANG!
No kidding, Maru, let me introduce you to the fine customers of
Hogan’s Alley Laundry.
This happy looking couple had just finished rinsing the baby blood from their good tablecloths and were packing up when I arrived.
And these fine gentlemen were engaged in a wholesome conversation about what types of household chemicals they prefer to mix their meth with. Also cappin’ a bitch ass ni**a for his key?
Also a nun, but I think she actually worked there to ward off the evil daemons festering in the front-loading washers.
Colorful group right? So what’s a robot to do when he stumbles in with fourteen metric tonnes of green Army pukage on his broad, handsome shoulders? Obviously, go right to the first machine within his line of sight and make every attempt to ignore the existence of anyone else inside that dungeon. I wish this is where the pain ended. I honestly do, Maru, wish that I could report to you that local weirdos were my only problem, but I CAN’T. Let me be as tactful as I can possibly be, for the sake of children and the elderly.
This place was a fuggin’ ripoff times ninety-two! It cost five quarters to do ONE load! That’s one dollar and tweny-five cents, guys. I know all my international subscribers are well aware of this fact, but I’ll clue some of you guys in: our dollar ain’t doing so hot right now you know? So a buck and a quarter seemed outrageous when all I wanted was to free old, dilapidated gear of filth and dirt and crushed dreams. I had five loads of laundry here. What’s $1.25USD times five? 6.25! Look at all that sweet swag I could have used with my purchasing power. Man alive! So luckily I brought my own color safe bleach, or I’d be crapping out another $2.75 for detergent! Not even name brand stuff like Tide or Clorox, but like off brand generic stuff probably made from Jell-o and food coloring and Fabreeze scents. I’m not even kidding.
I wanted the free pogo doll, so I ended up buying some anyway. I threw the actual detergent right in the trashcan, though. Take THAT economy!
Now that I’ve washed my disgusting possessions, I can beat feet out of there right?
No! I’ve got to dry this stuff!
Here is the kicker, right guys? It only cost $0.25USD to operate a dryer the size of Hannah Montana’s bank account and preteen girl fanbase. That should be a pretty sweet deal. However comma, the thing only runs seven minute cycles. That didn’t dry anything! If anything, it just pissed off the moisture inside my textiles so it got even wetter. Come on! So I had to run THAT like three times. Not to mention I couldn’t turn my back on my crap for a second without nun-cheeks over there eyeballing it. You’re never gonna need an entrenching tool cover, CUNT!
After everything was said and done and that fat lady sang (well okay she kind of yawned loudly) I had spent $8.50USD. I could have seen a movie! I really want to go see The Mist, that Stephan King adaptation because I heard it was the pinnacle of horror this winter and also because Cujo scared me for like five years one time and I miss it a little bit, you know, being afraid at night or in the woods or on the train when that old man keeps finding excuses to shift his hand ever closer to your crotch.
It took me roughly three hours to complete the task from walking into hell to clawing and kicking my way out of that wretched womb of over-priced detergents and fabric softener, which I never use because I guess I can’t tell the difference between ‘softened’ fabric and my usual. Maybe I’m just too rough and tough to feel such a subtle and ridiculous thing.
Maru, I give laundromats all over America 1 out of a possible 1 Million American Flags.
Keep this up laundromat and you’ll end up going the way of all the other 50-60’s era businesses and shoppes. Screw that noise. I wish I had just gone to Best Buy and bought a friggin’ Maytag for all the trouble I went through. Be warned and steer clear of these mom and pop tourist traps! I entered a man, but I left a hollow shell of emptiness and despair. Also my robo-wiener fell right the hell on off. Talk about embarrassing.
Hey, I know I keep telling you all about my interview with Mr. Dr. Thomas Kelly Jessup the County Coroner. I have an interview scheduled with him next Thursday and I hope you’ll all be pretty freakin’ excited about it. I know I am.
Take it easy, Maru!