So. Each and every knob in the world which controls temperature has only two settings - `Too hot' and `Too cold'. Choosing between them is an art that one learns to master only after spending multiple nights either like a leg of lamb in the freezer or a chicken carcass left to bake in a clay oven. Why are essentially all temperature controls created so that you are either charred to a crisp or quick frozen to a state of suspended animation? Why can't I find a single bathroom fixture, which does not consider me its bitch, and decide to alternatively boil me or flash freeze me? All the time when it knows that the soap is going to come to life and leap out of my fingers again and make another desperate attempt to secure its freedom by escaping down the nearest drain. I probably shouldn't get started on soap reanimation and save talk about it for some other time though. Right about now, I wish I could come up with a catchy slogan for those oppressed by temperature control devices, but my brain's overheated so they'll have to wait.

On a side note:
Why are rants always such interesting reading? Is it because we as rantees commisserate with the ranter, or are we simply enjoying the spectacle of someone else breaking down in frustration (or anger or envy or whatever emotion the ranter is channelling at that time) ?

On a side side note: (If such a thing exists)
Rantee: I'm fairly certain no such word exists in the English language, but it means `wild' in Marathi!