I vow vengeance upon YKK

Posted: July 31, 2011 in Uncategorized
Tags: , ,

No, that’s not Y2K (… actually it kinda is, but I digress), that’s the damn zipper manufacturer.   The title is right, I am prepared to vow improvised vengeance on the bane of my one-handed existence, and all of their shady business practices!  I shit thee not, read the linked article.  The tales of zippered megalomania and global price fastening genuinely surprised me.  I half-expected to find a reference to the Mossad mixed in there or something.  Either way, YKK and the other zipper magnates kinda impressed me with the fines they racked up with some pithy collusion on a global scale.  Makes me wonder why other globally destructive companies haven’t ended up with a similar fate– but that’s another rant and digression entirely.

Yes, I have been able to master the elusive art of buttering toast.  But lo, the accursed zipper has continued to cause me to want to punch the seemingly helpful innovation out of existence.  Considering one of said offending zippers is right over my important parts, I have wisely refrained from indulging my urge for a left-handed Hulk-smash reaction.  My fly, however, has been the least of my problems, thanks to very cooperative thighs and the increasingly dexterous Rosie.  Suck on that mental image.

It’s every other confounding zipper that has driven me to…  oh who the Hell do I think I’m kidding, it’s already painfully obvious that I’m two patients short of a psych ward.

Take, for example, my laptop satchel.  Loading and unloading, granted, is a bit more tedious with one hand, but that blasted zipper is ridiculous!  Without the counter tension on the leather of the case, as similarly exemplified by my thighs on my shorts for the venerable fly, zipping it up is a chore in and of itself.  I’ve tried grabbing the damn thing with my feet, even tried to employ Jill’s gimpy pinch grip, just to get the freaking zipper to shut.  Believe you me, I’m freaking glad that it’s hot enough outside to roast a hobo– because a jacket zipper might have been the last straw before I had to go Gimp McClane on these fiends.

It could be worse.

At this point, I would be forced to make shit real... on an epic scale.

Oh shit.  That reminds me, before this cast comes off, there’s one occasion that comes to mind where I will have to contend with the two most diabolical zippers ever created— the nefarious tent door zipper and its bastard sidekick, sleeping bag zipper.

This might end up with another Nakatomi Incident after all, Mr. Gruber.

(In other news, I’ve re-learned how to position Jill so as to be able to type two handed again.  Yays!)


  1. […] has posed more of a problem to me than pulling up a zipper one-handed.  Do I give her a random fake name, like thousands of other pretentious bloggers?  I could refer […]

  2. […] purely for my own sanity.  I would mock my own crippled ass, and marvel at how difficult some tasks could be with only one usable hand.  All in all, more of you read that shit than my rants and […]

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