Thread: Morning. The crappiest time of the day (NSR)

(Yes, this happened to me. Today. Bastardos.)

Uma Thurman is performing oral sex on me. In itself there's nothing unusual with this situation, happens all the time. Uma and I have had discussions about this in the past however and she knows that if she wants to have sex with me, she has to bring Salma Hayek along as well. Uma's getting a bit cheeky, and I may need to bring her back into line. I hear a knock on the door, and ask Uma to throw another brick of $10,000 bills on the fire while I answer the door.

I open the door and immediately see why Salma's been running a bit late, as she's brought Denise Richards with her. Good girl that Salma, always thinking of me. Salma smiles seductively and says "CHHEEEEEEEEAAARP". Always meant to learn a bit of Spanish. It's really unforgivable. Plenty of time to learn Spanish, just never got around to it. Would come in handy now. Uma's stoking the fire with a ski pole, for some reason has donned a Giro Flint SC helmet. Strange. Many, perhaps most, women I know would look better wearing a Flint SC, but Uma's not one of them.

"CHHEEEEEEEEAAARP". Jesus, Salma's really got something on her mind. I run through my limited knowledge of Spanish phrases (no, doesn't sound like Bibliotheca, etc.). No idea what she's going on about. "CHHEEEEEEEEAAARP". Uh-oh. The seeds of realization are growing in my mind. I've heard this sound before, although it sounds a bit different. Hmmmm. "CHHEEEEEEEEAAARP". There's no stopping it now. Fuck. Here we go.

"CHHEEEEEEEEAAARP". I look at the alarm clock. 5:28AM. Fuck. I know perfectly well that I did not set my alarm clock for 5:28AM. That's not a time to be waking up, that's a time to be going to bed. Must be some sort of mistake. Some alarm clock engineer's idea of a joke. Bastard.

"CHHEEEEEEEEAAARP". That's no fucking alarm clock. I don't know what this is. Do mice make and use fog horns? What sort of mice activities would be hindered by fog? I can't tell where the sound is coming from, possibly from deep within my cerebral cortex. This is no way to start the day. This is a way to end a life.

"CHHEEEEEEEEAAARP". FUCK. SHUT UP. Drastic measures are going to need to be taken. Including, but not limited to, getting out of bed. I rub the gunk from my eyes and begin to formulate a bed extraction plan. Morale will need to be taken into account in whatever plan I develop, as motivation will be the most difficult problem to be solved.

"CHHEEEEEEEEAAARP". JESUS, OK, I'M UP. Bastard. I have no idea what the fuck's going on. Am I dead? Is this hell? Not that I don't deserve it but a little notice would have been nice. Seriously, even Satan could use a little courtesy. I'm gonna be here forever, and we're just going to have to compromise if we want this to work.

"CHHEEEEEEEEAAARP". Aha. The fire detector. That's the culprit. There's clearly no fire, so this must be some automated fire drill. Smokey the bear must have decided that being proactive is the key. We've got a problem however. The fire alarm is on the ceiling. And the ceiling is about 8 feet above my head.

"CHHEEEEEEEEAAARP". The cavalcade of swear words in my head has now been put to song. I think that the tune may be Whitney Houston's "One Moment in Time". "Fuck, fuck, fuck, shit...". Do I have a ladder? Like hell I have a ladder. I don't even have any silverware, much less a ladder. How am I going to get to that fire detector?

"CHHEEEEEEEEAAARP". Skis! That'll work. I grab an Bandit XX and start beating the fire detector. This is not working as well as I had hoped. The flex is clearly not tuned properly for fire detector beating. A little more stiffness at the tip would be great. Oops. Nice line on the ceiling. This sucks.

"CHHEEEEEEEEAAARP". SHUT UP! I don't know how much more of this I can take. I decide to regroup. Going back to sleep ain't gonna to happen, might as well take a shower. The sound of the water drowns out most of the CHHEEEEEEEEAAARP-ing, so this is a welcome change. Also, my "Fuck, fuck, fuck, shit" song sounds much nicer in the shower. That resonance makes all the difference. This tune is clearly marketable.

"CHHEEEEEEEEAAARP". Screw this. I'm out of here. I'll by a ladder later today and deal with this tonight. Right after a stop at the fire detector manufacturer's where the Bandit XX's flex will be put to a serious test.

POTW

your battery is dead. Buy a 9 volt and put it back in there, you will be good to go.

Ha ha! That's only so great becase it is so true. Same thing happened to me about a month back. I don't know why those stupid batteries never go dead during the day time...

Originally posted by road trip
Ha ha! That's only so great becase it is so true. Same thing happened to me about a month back. I don't know why those stupid batteries never go dead during the day time...

I need better dreams, and a old battery for my smoke detector.

Originally posted by tonghands
The flex is clearly not tuned properly for fire detector beating.

Originally posted by tonghands
That's no fucking alarm clock. I don't know what this is. Do mice make and use fog horns? What sort of mice activities would be hindered by fog?

funny shit.

Originally posted by frozenwater
your battery is dead. Buy a 9 volt and put it back in there, you will be good to go.

A real man would tape the battery to the tip of his Bandit XX and try to install it like that too.

Well played, tonghands. Consider yourself hearted.

Tonghands + Drugged_Monkey = my favorite NSR posters.

Huzzah, Sir! Thrice Huzzah!!

Tonghands! That made me laugh and laugh!
Sprite

I laughed.

good shit.

go avs!

Fantastic read-- really funny. Nice work!

I didn't laugh.
















ya, I did.

http://www.overpowered.org/crushed2.jpg

Aggressive problem solving is effective problem solving.

I'm so disillusioned...you don't really have tonghands do you?
Sprite

Do I smell smoke?

Originally posted by snowsprite
I'm so disillusioned...you don't really have tonghands do you?
Sprite

Sadly no. I did a test run by just holding a set of tongs in each hand for a weekend. The fingernails on chalkboard screeing sound that the tongs made when trying to pick up a bottle of beer pretty much ruled out making the change permanent however.

Loser, young cousin Ed lives with his scissor-hands and you don't hear him complaining about a little screeching.












I like Selma.

That is either a REALLY big smoke detector, or a very small countertop.

Tonghands is wicked funny

That is great.

You show that damn smoke detector who's boss..nice one

Careful you don't blow out the sidewall of the XX with all that poking.