If cartoonish incompetence were frightening, my apartment building would be a haunted castle.
I have just discovered that the washing machine in this apartment does indeed, as one might guess from the name, wash. However, the dryer does not actually dry. It “tumbles”, but does not “dry”. So now I have two large loads of clothing hanging everywhere things can hang from in my shoebox-sized apartment.
The relative humidity at the moment is 88%. Eighty-eight. I have lived in the Carribean for some time, so I am going gather close my machismo and stiffen my upper lip, but if my situation were not also humorous it would be grim indeed.
I may need to microwave my underwear in the morning. Ominous!
Update: I’m pretty sure this is not how the Fantastic Four got their start.