My wife and kids are out of town right now, visiting with my father-in-law. I've been living the bachelor life for the past week (translation: too much beer, too many video games, too little sex).
My wife called this evening so that I could talk to the kids. My three year old daughter had a lot of questions about the new dog, and I was so caught up in how adorable her excitement over the new pet is that I failed to notice I'd tapped an extra zero in on the microwave.
So I told the microwave to cook my dinner for 30 minutes instead of 3.
I didn't notice this until there was thick, black smoke fucking POURING out of the microwave.
I slapped the microwave off, opened every window in the house, and turned on every fan in the house. I finally pulled the charcoal briquette that remained of my dinner from the microwave and hucked it still smoking into the trash. Amazingly, the fire alarm hasn't gone off. Yet. Perhaps that should concern me.
The smoke outside was already dense enough to make my eyes burn because of a wildfire in the eastern part of the state. At this point, I'll have to go outside into that poison to get some fresh air.
It stinks like death in here. And now it's hotter than hell because I'm not running the AC and cooling the outdoors. Damn it, I turned into my dad.
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7 comments:
Nice... Dogemeron (Dogzilla?) rules!
could you get any more stereotypical bachelor?
Yes he could. He could have been in his underwear.
Actually, what am I thinking? He probably was in his underwear.
What is this... 'underwear'... of which you speak?
Does it hurt?
It sounds like it hurts.
It does. Nude is the way to go to help avoid this heat you speak of.
And ignore me outside your window.
While you're outside the window, ignore what I'm doing to Taco inside the house.
Actually, that's sort of why I'm watching...
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