Instructions are the little pamphlets, signs or PDFs that make life easier. They help us understand the stuff we’re trying to use.
Sometimes, they’re ideal — just look at how well-thought-out Lego instructions are. Other times, though, they’re going to leave you awfully befuddled.
“Found my grandparents’ 24-step directions for ‘How to Turn on the Computer,’ from the…80s? 90s?”
Readers of a certain age will remember when desktop computers were this inscrutable. You’d spend literal years figuring them out, all so you could use a word processor and maybe play some Minesweeper.
“My campus has a sign begging us to step on the grass.”
Don’t get me wrong, I love strolling on the grass. But usually these signs are urging the opposite — stay off the grass. This is a nice invitation, but I can’t help but think it might be a trap.
“My lawnmower that appears to give directions on how to correctly run over a small person.”
These pictograms are designed to make things immediately obvious, without the use of any words. If I’m reading this correctly, it’s advocating for something very dark.
“This rentable electric scooter has Braille instructions?”
I’m not so sure it’s a good idea to do this. It’s not that people who read Braille can’t necessarily ride scooters, but this is a scooter rental company. Giving a scooter to an inexperienced, vision-impaired rider seems like it’s asking for trouble.
“This sign has directions to Mars.”
It’s a cute idea, but what if someone actually tried to follow the sign’s directions? They’d get stuck in a tree, the fire department would have to extricated them, and it would be a whole big thing.
“My IKEA manual instructs me to throw away a piece included in the box.”
I’ve seen this image floating around, and I need answers. It’s one thing to provide extra hardware, but another thing to provide extra hardware that’s designed to be trashed.
“My fruit fly traps directions appear to have been written by Wernor Herzog.”
Did anyone else read these directions in Werner Herzog’s voice? No? Just me? In any event, at least they’re more entertaining than what you might otherwise see.
“My pizza box has carry out instructions.”
I think I know how to carry a pizza box, thanks. I’ve carried many in my life. I don’t need these directions. They undermine everything and make me question whether I’ve been carrying pizza boxes incorrectly my whole life.
“The distance to Cortez from this point is 42 miles in either direction.”
I can think of three possibilities here: the sign is lying, the road on either side forms a big circle, or this is located on a very small planet.
“Setup instructions for log splitter suggest assistance from your enemy.”
Sometimes it’s hard to find a willing friend to help you with physical tasks on short notice. In those situations, I guess you need to think outside the box and find your least-hated enemy.
“The light switches all turn on in different directions.”
Light switches are always installed with the best of intentions, but after a few years or decades of re-wiring, tweaking and the addition of new switches, things can easily become chaotic and confusing.
“Instructions for washing my new t-shirts.”
Look, t-shirt manufacturer, I never planned on slapping pandas, and resent the implication that I might do so. I don’t even know where to find a panda. Even if I did, I don’t think it would impact the cleanliness of my t-shirt.
“This sign that only appears in the day.”
This is either a brilliant example of viral marketing, or a storefront that wonders why people only become aware of it during a few hours of each day, and only then when it’s adequately sunny.
“Installation instructions for a barn door rail tell me I need *The hammer*.”
I have a hammer, but I’m not sure I have the hammer. What is the hammer, exactly? Is this a Thor situation? If so, I don’t think I can fulfill the request.
“This is a truck carrying the signs you see on the interstate.”
I guess these signs have to get to their eventual destination somehow, but they really ought to be covered with a sign instructing people not to follow their directions just yet.
“This box of matches comes with instructions for rice pudding on the back.”
A box of matches should have a warning, or suggested usage, on the back. A rice pudding recipe is very strange, especially when it doesn’t require any matches.
“Sign outside a restaurant bathroom states, ‘Employees must stop crying before returning to work.'”
I sincerely hope this is a joke that someone put on the wall for the lulz, because if it isn’t, well, it’s a seriously depressing prospect.
“The care instructions label in my boxers helpfully reminds me that turning them inside out doesn’t count as a wash.”
Do people actually do this? I mean, if you’ve dirtied up the inside of your underwear, why would you want to then turn it inside-out?
“My glasses came with instructions.”
These instructions are basic, but effective. They tell you everything you need to know, and if you follow them correctly, your glasses will wind up exactly where they’re supposed to go: not on your arm or leg, but directly on your face.
“Oddly specific… we’ll use soft petting instead :)”
I wonder what’s gone on in the past to necessitate this sign. I’d like to know what bogsnorkeling is, but that feels like one of those terms I should just keep out of my search history.
Last Updated on November 10, 2021 by D