Focus your ire on the clock to the right, the one on the left is harmless.Yesterday, I was gallivanting around the local thrift stores looking for things that my excessively wealthy ass could afford to purchase. It was a pretty lean day, mostly wading through the sea of old travel coffee mugs and Sega Geneses and not finding much. I was almost tempted by a Better Than Ezra CD for three bucks, except for the fact that it was Better Than Ezra, and for the fact that they were charging more than zero for it. Anyway, the only thing to really temp a bit of cash out of my Ebenezer Scrooge brand Stinge Wallet was the clock you see pictured at the top of this posting.
You'll get none of my pennies, you necessitous mendicant!
It was marvelous! It was nearly identical to one that is currently located in my living room and had been so for quite a few years. The only differences were that the wood was a lighter color, and that it was a battery driven model instead of a wind-up like the one at home. I did notice the little speaker in the back, and instead of listening to the little voice in the back of my head telling me that it was a bad sign and that I should avoid like the dirty plague, I ignored it's call and instead purchased this clock. I guess the "similar yet different" style overrode my better judgment. It made me feel comfortable, like I was home. Little did I know what was coming.
Animadvertistine, ubicumque stes, fumum recta in faciem ferri?
It was marvelous! It was nearly identical to one that is currently located in my living room and had been so for quite a few years. The only differences were that the wood was a lighter color, and that it was a battery driven model instead of a wind-up like the one at home. I did notice the little speaker in the back, and instead of listening to the little voice in the back of my head telling me that it was a bad sign and that I should avoid like the dirty plague, I ignored it's call and instead purchased this clock. I guess the "similar yet different" style overrode my better judgment. It made me feel comfortable, like I was home. Little did I know what was coming.
Animadvertistine, ubicumque stes, fumum recta in faciem ferri?Of course, the clock needed a battery; nothing from a thrift store that requires batteries will come with working batteries -17th maxim of the cheap ass shopper. Because of this, I wasn't able to even find out if this thing worked until I got it home. I had to do a bit of scrounging, but I was able to find the 'C' battery that this damn thing needed. What kind of crappy devices use 'C' batteries these days; at least it wasn't a goddamn 9-volt. Hoping that I didn't just waste the little money I spent on the thing, I placed the huge-mungo battery into the proper place and thankfully the minute hand started moving. Hurrah! I got myself a working clock. I then pushed the minute hand to the 12 to get a listen to the chiming sound this bad-boy was going to make. The clock in the living room has acutal chimes that are mechanically struck to get that clock bell sound that's so loved by Episcopalians and gothed-out teenagers everywhere. It chimes once for every increase in magnitude the new hour accrues, so at five o'clock, you'll get five dings. Now I know that the new clock just ain't going to be as cool as that, since it has an electrical speaker to make whatever chime sound it wants to make, but I still had to know. When that minute hand reached the 12 position, out of the speaker came a silly midi version of the classic Westminster Quarters. It was kind of like the recording of Beethoven's 9th that Alex DeLarge, from A Clockwork Orange, listens to when he was getting medically conditioned. It was silly, but kind of cool in it's own sort of way. Overall I was very pleased with my new purchase.
No time for the old in-out, love, I've just come to read the meter.
Now I was off to find a place for this little mechano-electric monster to live. I wasn't going to replace the one in the living room, as that one had cooler chimes (although, I do like the color of the wood better on the new one, oh well). Kitchen? Really now. Bathroom? That's just stupid. Laundry room? Now we're getting retarded. Next you're going to tell me the basement, har-dee-har-har. Through the process of elimination I decided on the bedroom. Why not, I spend a lot of time in there (me-ow!) so why not have it in a place where I can enjoy it? Being the industrious sod that I am, I looked around for a pre-existing nail I could hang it on instead of putting in a new one. As luck would have it, there was one in an area where this clock could fit, so I put it there. At first it was going to be just temporary, to get a feel for how the clock would look in the room, and it was kind of odd since it was right next to a plaque-slash-clock that was already on the wall, but dispite all that, I left it there. I kind of like the way they look next to each other. One clock is big, the other is small, one is light, the other is dark, one is all angle-ly, the other is square, one had regular numbers, the other roman numerals. Kind of all samey-oppositey, so it stayed put. And all was well. All was well, that is, until I went to sleep that night.
I'm not really sure that badgers = sleep, at least in practice. Maybe in concept.
I was awoke at around 2-ish (and by 2-ish I mean exactly 2:00, this is a clock dammit!) by an electronic simulation of church sounds which seem to echo through my brain. You see, while I'm milling about during the day in my room watching TV or using the computer (nerd alert, I have both a TV and computer in my bedroom (me-ow!), yes it's sadly true), the Westminster chimes are low-key and cute sounding, in a silent room in the middle of the night, they sound more like uh, louder things. Ok I spent over ten minutes trying to think of a simile worth a shit and I just couldn't. I'm done trying, moving on. Of course, it being two in the morning, I did not have the presence of mind to actually get up and remove the battery from the clock and finish the night with some decent sleep, I just passed right out again. This had the unfortunate side effect of altering my dreams into a terrible mish-mash of awful sounds and bizarre events. That wasn't the end of it, either; at the top of every hour, like clockwork (har!), the chimes from hell woke me up and continued to alter my dreams. I didn't get any good sleep because of it, just crazy upsetting images that I unfortunately can't remember, since I'm not very good at remembering my dreams, just how I react to them. All night this went, bad dreams, startling awake due to the chimes, falling back to sleep, bad dreams, and so on. One thing I do remember is that each time I fell back alseep, the chimes played more promeinently in my newest dream. It was almost like the damn noise was devouring me. It sucked, big time. This went on until about six when I finally woke up for good and took the battery out of the clock. That, my compatriots, felt damn good.
Ding Dong Ding Dong -- Dong Ding Dong Ding - Muahaha!
The sad thing is, even after the horrifying events of last evening, I'm still too attached to the clock to get rid of it. I think I have a mild form of stockholm syndrome that's popular with the TV shows nowadays. So I made a few modifications to the clock. I couldn't just clip the speakers, that would be too easy, so I added a little bit of muffling material around the speaker so the chimes are not quite so loud. They have lowered in volume by a noticable amount, so hopefully I'll be able to sleep through them. I'll find out tonight. If I can't then I'll clip the speakers, but I have to try this one more time before giving up and mutilating my boy here. I love you clock, you son-of-a-bitch.
No time for the old in-out, love, I've just come to read the meter.Now I was off to find a place for this little mechano-electric monster to live. I wasn't going to replace the one in the living room, as that one had cooler chimes (although, I do like the color of the wood better on the new one, oh well). Kitchen? Really now. Bathroom? That's just stupid. Laundry room? Now we're getting retarded. Next you're going to tell me the basement, har-dee-har-har. Through the process of elimination I decided on the bedroom. Why not, I spend a lot of time in there (me-ow!) so why not have it in a place where I can enjoy it? Being the industrious sod that I am, I looked around for a pre-existing nail I could hang it on instead of putting in a new one. As luck would have it, there was one in an area where this clock could fit, so I put it there. At first it was going to be just temporary, to get a feel for how the clock would look in the room, and it was kind of odd since it was right next to a plaque-slash-clock that was already on the wall, but dispite all that, I left it there. I kind of like the way they look next to each other. One clock is big, the other is small, one is light, the other is dark, one is all angle-ly, the other is square, one had regular numbers, the other roman numerals. Kind of all samey-oppositey, so it stayed put. And all was well. All was well, that is, until I went to sleep that night.
I'm not really sure that badgers = sleep, at least in practice. Maybe in concept.I was awoke at around 2-ish (and by 2-ish I mean exactly 2:00, this is a clock dammit!) by an electronic simulation of church sounds which seem to echo through my brain. You see, while I'm milling about during the day in my room watching TV or using the computer (nerd alert, I have both a TV and computer in my bedroom (me-ow!), yes it's sadly true), the Westminster chimes are low-key and cute sounding, in a silent room in the middle of the night, they sound more like uh, louder things. Ok I spent over ten minutes trying to think of a simile worth a shit and I just couldn't. I'm done trying, moving on. Of course, it being two in the morning, I did not have the presence of mind to actually get up and remove the battery from the clock and finish the night with some decent sleep, I just passed right out again. This had the unfortunate side effect of altering my dreams into a terrible mish-mash of awful sounds and bizarre events. That wasn't the end of it, either; at the top of every hour, like clockwork (har!), the chimes from hell woke me up and continued to alter my dreams. I didn't get any good sleep because of it, just crazy upsetting images that I unfortunately can't remember, since I'm not very good at remembering my dreams, just how I react to them. All night this went, bad dreams, startling awake due to the chimes, falling back to sleep, bad dreams, and so on. One thing I do remember is that each time I fell back alseep, the chimes played more promeinently in my newest dream. It was almost like the damn noise was devouring me. It sucked, big time. This went on until about six when I finally woke up for good and took the battery out of the clock. That, my compatriots, felt damn good.
Ding Dong Ding Dong -- Dong Ding Dong Ding - Muahaha!The sad thing is, even after the horrifying events of last evening, I'm still too attached to the clock to get rid of it. I think I have a mild form of stockholm syndrome that's popular with the TV shows nowadays. So I made a few modifications to the clock. I couldn't just clip the speakers, that would be too easy, so I added a little bit of muffling material around the speaker so the chimes are not quite so loud. They have lowered in volume by a noticable amount, so hopefully I'll be able to sleep through them. I'll find out tonight. If I can't then I'll clip the speakers, but I have to try this one more time before giving up and mutilating my boy here. I love you clock, you son-of-a-bitch.
