Thursday, 24 March 2011
10:19:23 PM (GMT)
I've just got done eating, and I just customized my profile (Which I am really proud
My entire left side of my tongue is numb thanks to the peppers and the spice is
burning my esophagus.
Any way, yesterday I went to my friends house and his sister (a slight three years
older than me) asked if I wanted to see a movie. We ended up watching "Get Him to th
Greek" and with in twenty minutes his sister (lets call her Joe for now) fell asleep.
So during the movie a commercial break came on and the loud rugged snores coming from
Joe quickly soothed me to sleep. I woke up and found the movie has yet finished, but
slept a good hour. Joe was still sleeping. I got up from the bed and traveled through
the heavily cold ventilated house and strolled into the kitchen. There was no one in
the room, and only one light was on, the others being smashed broken. I walked to the
pantry pulled out a loaf of bread (Which I got nine pieces of bread from) and began
toward the toaster. Their toaster was fairly big to the other ones I saw. There were
six slots instead of two, and was wide, stretching across the whole counter. I manged
to get the appropriate amount of slice into each slot, but had to shove the other
three slices in occupied slots. Just as I pulled down the triggers to start the
toaster to bake Joe's mom walked into the room. "Hey papa." (they tend to call me by
that nick name). Her sudden voice shocked me out of my groggy state and I quickly
inched over to block the view of the toaster, which was now giving off a light hint
of black smoke. "What are you cooking there?" said the little chubby woman curiously.
Her little Innocent face looking at me with her adorable smile, oblivious to the fact
I completely screwed up the toaster. "Just cooking some toast." I relied trying my
best to sound casual. "OOH" her eyes widening she said it. "Can I have some, I super
duper hungry." her accent and innocence of a child made her a million time cuter.
Guilt started to eat the inside of me. "Ok" I said turning back to the toaster. But
before I could even turn around, Joe's mom said "Oh the bread is over there, put my
slices in.". "It's ok, you can have mine." I said quickly trying to stay
inconspicuous. "No, you have your slices and get me mine. You're a growing boy."
Damn, failed again. I ran to the the loaf, grabbed it and ran back to cover the
toaster. "Are you ok?" "Yea, just thought I get some cardio exercise." The little
foreign woman laughed at me. I did this quick, I turn and tried to pull the toast
switch up. Just in my luck tough, it happened to be stuck, I pulled and pulled and
gave up. By now the toaster was birthing such a large amount of the smoke that the
atmosphere had a dark tint and breathing was uncomfortable. But Joe's mom sat in her
chair reading a Spanish magazine with foreign writing on the cover. I pulled the plug
out of the socket and this caused the toaster to let out a hi pitched zap sound. I
standed still like stone and looked at the carcass of a heep of metal. I pulled the
switches up and it moved slowly, and dark black blocked popped out of the slots. I
grabbed the, the top of a few crumbled in my grip but I managed to get the out, and
ran to the trashcan. I dropped the toasts (Burnt beyond recognization that it was
bread once) down. Then the pain sunk in. I just realized than my hands were large,
swollen and were burning. I ended up excusing myself to the bathroom and washed my
hands with cold water for a good ten minutes.. The house was quiet when I exited the
bathroom. Reentering the kitchen, it seemed as if nothing happend, besides the smoke
clearing slowly from cracks in the windows. I told Joe's mom I was to tired to cook
right now and when back into Joe's room. I fell on the hard cold, kwabekian styled
marble floor and dazed on to sleep.