Did I mention the time she burned down my microwave? She talked about going to Cooking School a few times, so being the nice hisband, I encouraged her to start cooking in the house. Her "flare" was mediocre at best, and choking down some of the meals was intolerable. One day I came home after an exhausting afternoon of travel and heavy traffic, to find a black cloud of smoke emitting from the kitchen. She, of course, was sitting in the living room watching the Eating Channel, not realizing the smoke filling the apartment. I went into the kitchen to find flames shooting inside the microwave. She was cooking a potato, and it was burning inside. I opened the door, and the plastic on the roof of the oven was on fire. I threw the potato out the window and put out the inferno. When I got the fork lift to bring her in and see what was happening, she told me she had tried to bake this potato and wanted it fully cooked, so she put it in for 16 minutes. Idiot. The charred remains of my microwave were put to rest in the alley, and another 200 bucks was shot. Needless to say, cooking school was history. I hate this pen.
Memo, what memo?
BT Rep: +5
woowoo
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