Electricity Poems Apply to Alien Technology as Well

Later today I'm taking my electric skillet to Las Vegas with me to add an extra cooking surface for our late Thanksgiving dinner. I'm still debating whether or not to check the bag it's in as the little plug thing had kind of a spike on the end. And when I woke up just now it occurred to me just how retarded that is.

When dealing with electricity, things that stick out are not live, and recessed connections are. That way people aren't always brushing against live wires and dieing. While I was contemplating this, my brain offered up the following poem:

Electricity lives in gullies and wells.
You can't reach it, so everything's swell.
The tines and the spikes and things that are pokey,
don't carry a charge so they're okey dokey.

In other technology news, I had to deliver a mattress and bed frame to Los Gatos last night. This lady's neighbor (a tiny old lady who sounded a LOT like Kermit the Frog) had to let me in to set everything up. She was also the only one available to sign the paperwork and receive the explanation of how everything works. I spent 10 minutes explaining the controls of her air mattress, the frame controls, how to adjust the rails, and how to move the lifting pole. Just as I finished the telephone rang. The neighbor picked it up, held it like a walkie talky, said hello into the ear piece, waited a second, then hung it back up.

I think I managed the equivalent of landing a UFO in this lady's living room and explaining how to use it in my alien language.