Sick Smoke

Been immersed in Assassin’s Creed, now that Turok is finally finished. Ah, the PS3. How it fills the hours while Mel is at work until late evening. But enough of why I’m a dork. Let’s get to the important issues:

We just replaced the smoke alarm battery in our apartment, and here I thought this was a good thing. It’s located in the hallway outside the bathroom, and it decided to go off this morning while I was in the shower, because of the steam. The fucking steam! And it’s so loud and annoying and Mel’s cat Oliver is crying like he’s on the brink of a nuclear fallout that he doesn’t understand, but is forced to acknowledge.

Mel tells me to not take such a hot shower. I’m sorry, but I don’t think so. Mel’s showers are borderline freezing. I don’t do cold water, unless I’m drinking it.

And to make matters worse, I hate myself for already getting sucked into Bret Michael’s Rock of Love II. It’s a train wreck that happens each week, but I find myself emotionally involved with the passengers. I partly only watch the show because I want him to say diabetes, which he pronounces DIABEETISS. It drove me nuts last season. I couldn’t stop saying it and I still use it for every excuse.

Mel: Are you cooking dinner tonight?

T: I’m sorry, I would, but my DIABEETISS.

Mel: Why aren’t the Disney movies copying?

T: It must be the DIABEETISS.

As for the smoke alarm—The DIABEETISS.