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Interesting Review of Product..


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From Amazon:



I am slouched in my computer chair as I type this... bloody, winded, and defeated. A mere shadow of my former, confident self. I have long known that it is folly to wrestle with a blister pack without the benefit of scissors, but just as I always feared... they've finally built a better blister pack.


I cut the top edge. Thinking the fell packaging bested like so many that preceded it, I laid down my scissors, placed my fingers into its open wound, and pulled apart with great force, barely suppressing an animalistic victory cry...


It is a good thing I supressed that victory cry, friends, for had I not I would have looked very foolish (in addition to stressing my intercostal cartilage) when the package refused to yield, and laughed off my efforts.


"Alright", I thought. "I've some more tricks up my sleeve." I reclaimed the scissors and set to work removing the left seam of the package. An unholy snap! My scissors lay broken, and my arm (not my hand, ladies and gentlemen, but my ARM) was slowly welling up dark, rich blood in the deep gouge left, presumably, by the flying bit of brittle plastic which the package had flung at me, to protect itself against my insistent slicing.


I retreated to the bathroom, treated and dressed my wound, and crept back, warily, to the field of battle. The package lay on my bed, looking quite battered, yet smug and very self-satisfied. I live alone. Today, there will be no reinforcements. Knowing that all the hopes of my discharged Xbox 360 controller batteries depended on my efforts and my efforts alone, I crawled to the scissors on the floor, and fell back immediately to a safe distance to plan my next attack.


I decided that where guile had failed, boldness might succeed. I would cut directly down the center of the front side of the package: straight through the heart of the renegade guardian of my Quick Charge Kit. I did so, with speed and precision comparable to that of a feline ninja... or at least a fat guy with a serious grudge against a plastic shell. The gash was glorious. No fewer than 4 inches long, and terminating below the product within, so that even if the package proves unusually hardy, I will almost certainly pry the fault apart far enough to retrieve the device within. I placed one hand on the right seam, and the other near the bottom of the new gash, of which I'd made a gift to my adversary, and pull will all my strength. My ribs glow white hot, filling the room with excruciating brightness and my consciousness with a pain the likes of which I hope never to know again. I drop the package onto the bed, and stumble back to my chair, falling backward into it.


As I lay here, maybe dying, I reflect on that final sequence of mistakes... which ONE, if any, could have saved my life and sanity, had I only not made it... Was it my choice to use scissors instead of fire? Was it my hubris-fueled insistence upon opening the package with my own efforts, just because I am 25 and an adult who should be able to fend for himself, where I might have simply left it aside until I next visited my parents four states away, and then, tail tucked firmly betwixt my thights, I could have asked mommy to do it. Was it my decision to buy this product in the first place? Who can say, for certain?


My musing continues... if I recover from my injuries, how will I respond? Do I launch another assault on the dread unopenable package? Do I crown it the prince of my home, swear eternal fealty, and begin designing a new flag to represent the sheer dominance and magnificence of this mighty blister pack?


But one thing, gentle reader, is certain: you can learn from my experience. Just say no to inaccessibly-packaged consumer goods! It's not too late. *cough* *cough*


Avenge... me...



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