![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Because even days that sort of suck and are weird can result in levity with the correct roomies:
A few days ago, we were supplied a new stove. A very new stove, complete with things that were still in plastic and an intact instruction manual. Needless to say, there was much rejoicing. Today, I had a chance to break it in. Lacking a toaster, I've always stuck my bagels under the broiler for a couple of minutes to toast them. It's never given me a problem. Today, happy to give my new shiny stove a test run, with my bare hands I rended the bagel asunder and splayed its remains on the ceremonial cookie sheet, placing it under the sanguinary red glow of the burner and leaving the kitchen to gaze upon my kingdom and contemplate where to put my desk so we can have the TV in a logical place. A few minutes later, one of my roomies walks by. I think by this point I was playing with post-it replicas of our furniture.
"Um... our oven is smoking," she said to me from the kitchen, perplexed.
"Oh, what?"
"The oven. Is smoking."
I paused for a moment.
"Oh crap, my bagel!"
Bounding into the kitchen I discovered not a little smoke, but a lot. Practically billowing out of the stove. So, brilliantly, I opened it and found my bagel... black. And probably a degree or two from being on fire... after, at the most, five minutes. My roomie, who is obviously far less scatterbrained than I today, looked up and gave the smoke detector a bit of a concerned look and said something about not wanting to evacuate the Shoreland. So we both grabbed blankets from the couch and started waving them at the smoke detector in the kitchen until it cleared, which soon turned into a ritual dance, complete with chanting about our bagel sacrifice. We got a little high tech and eventually brought in the fan. I have pictures, unfortunately not of the dance, but of my bagel, and of our whiteboard, above which half of the bagel now sits as an offering to the gods (or perhaps a very desperate and hungry, and quite possibly drunk, first year) and a warning to any other bagels who might overstay their welcome in our terrifying superheating demonstove.
A few days ago, we were supplied a new stove. A very new stove, complete with things that were still in plastic and an intact instruction manual. Needless to say, there was much rejoicing. Today, I had a chance to break it in. Lacking a toaster, I've always stuck my bagels under the broiler for a couple of minutes to toast them. It's never given me a problem. Today, happy to give my new shiny stove a test run, with my bare hands I rended the bagel asunder and splayed its remains on the ceremonial cookie sheet, placing it under the sanguinary red glow of the burner and leaving the kitchen to gaze upon my kingdom and contemplate where to put my desk so we can have the TV in a logical place. A few minutes later, one of my roomies walks by. I think by this point I was playing with post-it replicas of our furniture.
"Um... our oven is smoking," she said to me from the kitchen, perplexed.
"Oh, what?"
"The oven. Is smoking."
I paused for a moment.
"Oh crap, my bagel!"
Bounding into the kitchen I discovered not a little smoke, but a lot. Practically billowing out of the stove. So, brilliantly, I opened it and found my bagel... black. And probably a degree or two from being on fire... after, at the most, five minutes. My roomie, who is obviously far less scatterbrained than I today, looked up and gave the smoke detector a bit of a concerned look and said something about not wanting to evacuate the Shoreland. So we both grabbed blankets from the couch and started waving them at the smoke detector in the kitchen until it cleared, which soon turned into a ritual dance, complete with chanting about our bagel sacrifice. We got a little high tech and eventually brought in the fan. I have pictures, unfortunately not of the dance, but of my bagel, and of our whiteboard, above which half of the bagel now sits as an offering to the gods (or perhaps a very desperate and hungry, and quite possibly drunk, first year) and a warning to any other bagels who might overstay their welcome in our terrifying superheating demonstove.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
From:
no subject
i needed a laugh right now and this worked juuuust fine.
hahah.
seriously, i LAWLED! ;)
i hope i can come visit again this year!
From:
no subject
You'd better be able to come visit again this year! February won't be the same without you! And we've got a super-long cushy couch this year (and we're considering building a permanent fort in the dining room). (-;
From:
no subject
From:
no subject
From:
no subject
You should totally shellac it.
And then offer it to the first-year anyway.From:
no subject