My house. 8 years in we have replaced all windows, the kitchen because of a flood from upstairs, HVAC, 1 side of the fence when the pool collapsed, replacement pool, redone all floors…and the yellow nut sedge keeps coming back no matter what I do.
After an abusive relationship had ended and I was rebuilding my life, I spent significant effort going through my stuff and getting rid of things my abusive ex had given me. They may not actually have been cursed, but I certainly felt a lot better when they were gone.
My front lawn. Every political yard sign results in the candidate losing.
I think it’s because you’re an actual leftist trapped in a place that has two Republican parties.
I bought my meditation cushion in a store in Boulder where the cushions are sewn by the inmates of a Guatemalan insane asylum. So probably that. Maybe I shouldn’t be meditating on that thing.
As someone who lived in/around Boulder for many years, let me just say that is SO BOULDER.
My printer, of course.
I have an accessory item with a name on it, from the clothing of a person who was killed. I never met this person.
I found it while doing cleanup of the scene where they died. It had no investigative value, so was trash, but I didn’t feel right throwing it away. I kept it, in hopes of giving it to someone close to them, but life kept moving and I ended up with it.
Besides, if you throw it out you can’t talk to Mr Emerald any more. Mr Emerald needs a friend now that his original neighbor is dead.
A dude was quitting magic the gathering cuz he played it with his ex. Bought his collection. Found a non-precious metal wedding band. I don’t know where it is now, perhaps it rolled it’s way to smeagol.
Check again. Maybe it’s got Phasing.
My hands. They break everything that comes into contact.
Man, I used to think I was so handy, doing household, appliance, and car repairs, etc ……
It’s been a while since I needed to do anything, and now I have this cursed ikea furniture. Somehow it took three weekends to put a bed together, and it’s not even done since I broke another part. I’ve never before broken ikea furniture on assembly and have never needed support or replacement parts, yet this effing bed has needed replacements twice.
I don’t know if my hands are cursed and I’ll never again be handy, or if it’s ikea
That object, my friend, is me.
This is my answer. When things seem to be going well, something bad is about to happen
Gotta be this brain of mine.
There is a ghost living in my mouse that makes it inexplicably turn off every now and then
my wife. what? we can’t use sex objects?
