Death From Above

Hay Fever has always been an issue with me growing up, this is one of the reasons I’m so much happier in cities. Its not that I hate nature, it’s just nature keeps trying to make me swell. This being said I, I woke up this morning with a swollen face, and my belief is that the cottonwood trees planted around the city are conspiring against me. So using my amazing powers of determination and deduction, I concluded that I must go around the neighborhood and cut down all these tree, but realizing that Vancouver’s hippy population might rise up and turn on me, I opted for plan B; medicate this issue using prescription antihistamines. So it’s about 9am and my face swelling has gone down and I don’t feel like killing my coworkers, so it must be working. My left eyes is still feeling a bit off making me look a bit like the vocalist from Radiohead, but I’m hoping that by lunch I can come down from the bell tower and live among the normals.

The night of 1000 exploding eggs

Some 3 weeks ago, when I moved into my new apartment, I bought myself a nice shiny new microwave; a symbol of modern cooking bringing me to par with every other lazy chef. As I unpacked it, trying to overcome my bliss of finding un-popped bubble wrap, there were these 2 egg shaped plastic containers at the bottom of the box. In my brilliance, I deduced that these were for “cooking eggs”; perhaps boiling them. Had technology found a means to put whole eggs n the microwave? Had we reached that pinnacle of evolutions allowing us to have hard boiled eggs without the use of fire? It turns out, no; in fact, I might have put us back a few years. Tonight well under the impression that these magical plastic container would defy physics, I put two eggs in each one of them, added a little water and put them in the microwave for 2 minutes. At first everything went well and I was doing the voodoo dance of lazy cooking, this involves leaving the room to watch television. Then I heard a cracking noise and thought to myself “that’s too bad, but I’m sure they will still turn out”. Just as I started to icq friends, I heard a shotgun go off in my kitchen. When I turned around, instead of the usual site of some crazed homeless person with a loaded weapon I expected to find, there was my microwave with the door open and egg coating the entire interior. I felt both shame and pride; I had turned an egg into a lethal weapon at the cost of cleaning it up.