Ditto fluxing a joint. The endless dripdripdripdripdrip of a leaky faucet hasn't driven me to the far side of madness since the night I frantically hacked off my ears. No, I don't understand why water drains counterclockwise in Australia, but an even bigger mystery to me is why their plumbers' ass-cracks are in the front. My general recklessness with a monkey wrench has made me the target of a defamation of character suit brought by four species of monkeys. I cannot tell the hot wire from the ground wire from the wire I have no adjective for.
Plugs are from Mars, outlets are from Venus.
It only takes one Bob to put in a light bulb. An overhead electrical fixture is over my head long before coming out of its box. I try never to stick a knife into a plugged in toaster, even when I'm in the mood for a toasted knife. As a matter of personal compassion, I'm seriously considering having my wiring updated so that, just in case I make a serious error, instead of being fatally electrocuted I'll be lethally injected. I see the paint as the yin, the roller as the yang, and me as the yutz.