Once again, Alabama is trying to kill me.
I woke up at 4 am this morning to the soundtrack from Pearl Harbor. No, not Michael Bay’s crapwork of a film. I mean air raid sirens. I leapt out of bed and fumbled with the alarm clock for a little bit–at first, to mistakenly turn it off, and then to turn on the radio to find out what the hell was going on.
I couldn’t find the radio button, so I scrambled to the living room. On the way, I tripped over the vacuum cleaner, careening it into the cockatiel’s cage and freaking him out. For good measure, I also yelled out the cat’s name while stubbing my toe on the coffee table.
Continue reading Take it from Snee: Alabama is still trying to kill me