Hey yo! What up, my babies!
It's been a while since I've actually written a real blog -- and yes, I know, the times I'm whoring myself for my other endeavors don't count -- uh-huh, I know the score...
Well, in 6 hours time, I'll be off to Vegas to indulge in Bachelor party shenanigans that may or may not involve hookers and blow. But don't worry, I promise to behave myself - for the first hour.
Okay, back to the story of how I almost burned the house down a week and a half ago:
It was a typical morning: birds chirping obnoxiously, the sky so blue just because High Wind Advisories where on the day's menu, and as always, I'm 20 minutes late for work.
In an effort to streamline my wicked tardiness, I decided to throw some bread in the toaster oven to toast
WHILE I got my act together. I am a responsible slacker, after all.
I usually don't vulture around my toaster oven, but on that morning, I was able to get myself made up in time to loiter around the kitchen.
I reached into the fridge and grabbed a yogurt - you know, the kind they sell that help you poop? Just as an aside -- that stuff may be teeming with cultures and good bacteria, but it really is delicious.
Okay, as I was eating my yogurt, I noticed that my toaster oven was lighting up like the 4th of July. I thought "Funny, I don't
think there's a light bulb in the toaster oven, is there?"
Then
WHAM! Sparks are flying into my toast like Kamikaze planes crashing into the wheat-tastic surface of my breakfast. Smoke was building up fast, as a laser light show was going on behind the glass of the oven.
I snatched the plug out of the socket with over-Herculean strength, almost ripping the electrical plate out of the wall. The smoke cleared a bit. I slapped on a pair of oven mits and approached the oven as if I was about to pet a Rottweiler.
Nudging the door open slowly, the last of the smoke escapes, and the heating rods on the top are still glowing fire-engine red. My toast looks all right, but I toss it out anyway -- better to be safe than sorry. The last thing I need is metal shards swimming in my guts, waiting to tear a whole in my tract at any moment. Yes, I really am that paranoid.
Besides a little smoke inhalation and frayed nerves, I came out of the whole thing none the worse for wear. But man, that was some scary shit.
And so ends the saga of how I almost set the house on fire. Of course, there are those of you probably crying "Pure Bullshit!", so here's the pics to prove it:
The toaster, in its most natural state. You can still see
the smoke stains if you look at the glass close up.
See the rod to the right? Something caused the metal
to melt all the way down to the core, which caused the
initial sparks and the final voltage overload.
Of course, our warranty has long since expired, so we're not even gonna fight it.
EPILOGUE:About 4 days later, we bought a new toaster oven:
Pretty spiffy, huh?
The box it came in says that it's able to roast, broil, re-heat, crisp, and of course bake.
But so far, the Toast function has been the most utilized setting. And it's doing a fine job - not burning the house down... ;)
Typical bookshelf in the "Before" stage
Looks like all the pieces are still there, that's a good start
Key to success: lay it all out, and make sure you have EVERYTHING for reals
Follow the instructions, or else you might accidentally make a table
Standing up on its own. Always a good sign towards the end
Ta-Da! A bookshelf that's ready for use. And I used every single
n) - noun 
The toaster, in its most natural state. You can still see
See the rod to the right? Something caused the metal
Pretty spiffy, huh?
