So Long! Farewell! Auf Weidersehen! Goodbye!

Alas poor Maytag! I knew it, Blippers: a machine of infinite use, of most excellent longevity: it hath washed my clothes a thousand times: and now, how abhorred in my imagination it is! my sorrow rims at it. Here sits those dials that I have turned I know not how oft. Where be your cold water rinse now? your agitation? your suds? your cycles of spin, that were wont to set the floor a vibrating? Not one now, to stop your own departing? quite chap-fallen? Now get you to the recycling center, and tell them, let them apprise in detail, to this favour they must come, make them sigh at you. Prithee, Blippers, tell me one thing…