There is a gang of squirrels in my back yard. At first I didn't really know why they were hanging out back there, smoking cigarettes and looking menacing, but after I nearly died earlier it became clear to me that they were probably just biding their time until I took a nap or hurt myself, at which point they would rush in and take the house. What was this near-death experience, you ask? Well, sit back and brace yourselves for the riveting tale.
It was high noon. I was making scrambled eggs. I wasn't terribly hungry, but that didn't stop me. Everything was going smoothly, the frying pan was heating up, I was mixing the eggs/cheese/milk, I even had a plate sitting out
before I started the cooking process. That's what I call being prepared. As I began to cook the eggs, I noticed the pan was a little too hot but there ain't much you can do about it at that point, so I continued scrambling. Shit didn't start to get real until the process was nearly over. I took the pan off the burner and moved my plate over in order to begin serving. When I was nearly done moving my eggs to the plate, I began to hear a sizzling sound.
My mind in its infinite wisdom, came up with something along the lines of,
What? The eggs are cooking themselves on my plate? How odd.But obviously, this was not the case. For someone who almost certainly has mild OCD, I can be pretty damn retarded. I had set my plastic plate down directly on top of the burner I just removed the pan from. When I realized this, I quickly grabbed the plate and proceeded to take a huge whiff of the acrid, horrible smoke that was beginning to rise; because that seemed like the best course of action, you know? So as I was trying to scrape the eggs back into the pan and breathe real air at the same time, it seemed to me that I had surely just given myself at least eight different types of cancer and would be deceased sometime in the next ten minutes.

After throwing the plate away, turning on the fan above my stove and opening a couple windows, I sat down to eat. The eggs themselves weren't bad, but my enjoyment of them was tempered by the persistent voice in my head.
Do these taste like plastic? No, they definitely don't. Wait, do they? My stomach is going to explode. Blaaaargghhh.Four hours later, and I still have not keeled over. So in short, I'm watching you, squirrels. I'm onto your games, and you can't get rid of me that easily. Why not just ask me for some bird seed or something? Shit. I'm going to go watch Jeopardy.
(MUSIC) RECOMMENDATION OF THE DAY:
99 Songs of Revolution: Volume 1, by Streetlight Manifesto. A really awesome covers album by a really awesome ska band. What more could you ask for?