Lamps

 My roommates and I can act pretty rowdy at night. Specifically, we like playing with nerf swords. Occasionally, Joe and I challenge each other to nerf fencing in the living room. 

 When the two of us duel nothing bad happens because Joe and I can control how fast or strong we swing. However, when other people duel they swing their swords furiously. For example, one night Joe and Fred duel each other, and Joe grabbed a tall lamp to defend himself. Joe swung around the lamp and snapped it in half with a kick. As the lamp snapped sparks literally flew into the air, people watching the fight ran towards Joe to help him up and to put out a potential fire. In the end, Fred scolded Joe for using the lamp as a weapon, and everyone had to contribute paying for a new living room lamp. 
             A month after the duel Fred bought two new lamps for the living room. Joe and I were busy cleaning up the kitchen, while Fred and my housemate Scott were setting up the new lights. I heard Scott say, “Oh these lamps are nice. I hope they last us for the rest of the year.” Unfortunately, three minutes later I hear glass shatter and Scott screaming “no” for thirty seconds. Turns out Fred knocked over the lamp top which leaves nothing to shield the light bulbs brightness. My house became infamous for breaking furniture, and I guess we cannot be trusted with new lights for five minutes.

Cornbread

During the Jell-O making the neighbors next door were baking cornbread. (Just to clarify for future blog post, I currently live with six other roommates, and our next door neighbors are our friends who also have six people living together. We treat the two houses as one since Parkmerced’s largest townhouse is too small to fit thirteen people.) One person became infamous for ruining the cornbread. The instructions told him to add one table spoon of salt, but he misread the measurements and added one cup of salt. During the potluck people were anxious to try the cornbread because it smelled so good. However, once people took a bite out of the cornbread they immediately tasted only salt. Everyone taste then spat the cornbread out of their mouths like crashing dominoes.

A week later, the neighbor who ruined the cornbread tried and failed to redeem himself. He ruined his second batch  by substituting salt with baking soda. Joe sampled the new cornbread, and he quickly spat it out. When Fred saw the cornbread in the trash he asked, “Hey. Who threw away the cornbread? We don’t waste food in this house.” Joe replied with a scream, “Don’t eat the cornbread! It’s super bland. It’s poison!”

Eventually, my neighbor successfully made edible cornbread after his fifth attempt. Yes, he failed two more times making it a grand total of four failed attempts to bake cornbread.