Tuesday, October 7, 2008

T is for Tuesday and Totally sTupid

Wanna hear something? This is so typical of the way my week is going.

So, it's finally getting cool here. In fact, the last few nights have dipped into the low 50s; I'd say that's downright down-comforty. And yet, my cheap ass piece of shit building still hasn't turned the heat on. So, I get home tonight, tuck the kid all cozy in her bed, take a quick swim in the tub, and scamper all teeth-a-chatter into the kitchen, my brain on fire with another brilliant idea.

Now, I refuse to turn the oven on, generally, from May-September, because New York City is just too goddamned hot, and anything worth eating in summer is worth eating cold or raw, is my opinion. So tonight I think to myself, hey, I know. I'll bake something. And the kitchen will be filled with the delicious scent of sweet banana bread or brownies or some crap and I'll warm the apartment at the same time. Good. Yes.

Then I think, wait, you know, I'm really pretty lazy though. Why bake anything at all? Why not just turn the oven on 'broil' and get the house a little toasty, then shut it down, scoot my hiney under the covers and turn out the lights? Awwww, that's just crazy enough to work!

So I crank up the dial on the oven and wait for the magic to happen.

Only here's the thing. When a certain Babydaddy who shall remain nameless was staying at my apartment this weekend, he cooked something, and it spilled all over the inside of my oven.

I'm still not sure what was spilled. I'm thinking cheese, though he he swears up and down that he didn't spray-explode melted cheddar down the oven door, but within minutes of turning that fucker on, the entire kitchen was filled with the acrid smell of burnt asshair and a low-hanging gray smoke that made my eyes tear. Awesome. Good thing I disabled that annoying smoke alarm or else I'd have been dealing with that too.

So guess what I ended up having to do?

Open all the fucking windows.

And now I'm cold again.

October 15th Mercury starts spinning out of retrograde.

I'm just saying, is all.

14 comments:

Jack said...

There's going to be fisticuffs if there hasn't been already.

Booya said...

First thing, please hook that smoke alarm back up, for the little one, please.

But secondly, a friend of mine did the same thing once and melted the mini-blinds in his kitchen, so just remember to keep anything that can melt away from the oven if you do this again.

xl said...

Gack! Hope that smell didn't linger too long.

Mr. Poopie said...

Banana bread and burnt ass hair. Mmmmmm.

sparsely kate said...

burnt ass hair, hahah. Glorious!

Hope you have a better time of it all tomorrow!

Sproactually said...

I have been so blessed by never being exposed to ass hair. Or, at the very least I did not notice it.

Scooter said...

Please return all safety devices to proper functionality for my peace of mind. Believe it or not, but I've grown fond of the fact that you are alive, Kris.

Well, on the plus side, that won't happen again, and you can warm your living space up tomorrow.

Here's to a calm hippocampus, eh?

Warped Mind of Ron said...

Fire alarms are our friends!! And ovens are for cookies!

Fucktard Savant said...

I have a bunch of little electric heaters. If you get the good ones they work well and are efficient. That way I can be cozy at night without having to go crazy heating the whole house, not that it matters much now that I live in such a tiny house, I guess.

Memphis Steve said...

Hey, it's all about the karma. You didn't stab that tiger on streaming internet video like you were supposed to and now Karma has taken a cheese poo all inside your oven and tricked you into turning it on.

See, interpreting dreams is child's play. Interpretting karma, that's for the Memphis Master!

So there. Pooya!

::::wifemothermaniac:::: said...

Well there was a good plan gone horribly wrong, it was sounding good at first though! That masturbating dream also sounded terrible. What a week eh!

I'm seriously flattered that you liked my blog, I've been a quiet fan of yours for awhile and you make me laugh every single time.

We live in many ways, completely opposite lives, I live on a little rural hippy island on the Canadian West Coast where Birkenstocks and hairy armpits are high fashion and the mothers scene is all about lettuce smoothies and folk music and there's only like two of us who swear. (for the most part, it's a nice place to live, I'm not in total hell, it's just very small and limited) I do miss living in the city sometimes but I get my fix of city attitude from you ;) And so, well if you need your fix of hippy shit come visit me anytime Krissyface.

Krissyface said...

Good god, I've been remiss in responding to comments. I didn't realize the smoke alarm comment would cause such an uproar. Thanks for caring, guys.

Hi Jack, no, this is just a regular day in the Rice family. It's not unlike the Bradys on peyote. I've gotten quite used to it.

Booya, I know, I know. The good thing is, I can't afford mini blinds for the kitchen.

XL, It did. After lots of incense and airing out, it's a little better. Disgustingly, my hair smelled like it the next day. Ick.

Poop, my favorites, yes.

Kate and Steve, might I recommend perhaps lighting a fart on fire? You might learn about burnt ass hair the fun and easy way. And the kids love it! I mean, so I've heard.

Scoot and Ron, hooking it back up. I swear.

Mr. FS, I'm thinking a trip to Home Depot is in order. With the price of oil and the utter cheapness of my landlords, I'm totally fucked this winter without a space heater, methinks.

Steve, Cheese Poo. Hee.

Wifey, I love your blog too! You're living my alternate life...we can live vicariously through each others blogs. Sounds like a plan.

Prunella Jones said...

Don't feel bad. I took the batteries out of my smoke alarm to put in the remote control.

kay zee said...

50 degrees eh?

You know what's embarrassing?
I don't speak Fahrenheit... only celsius :S