A PSA to check the CO detectors
Yesterday, the carbon monoxide detectors started talking to me. They whispered to me, begged me to change the batteries. The carbon monoxide detectors love the batteries. I love the batteries. I love carbon monoxide detectors. They keep the ants out of the wall. The ants want to burrow, to eat, to carry, to use those little spindly legs for their clandestine shuffling. The ants are not allowed in the wall. Installing one carbon monoxide detector on each wall is the only thing that keeps the ants away. The ants took my wife Linda. I miss Linda. Sometimes, when I forget to change the carbon monoxide batteries, the fuzzy guys whisper in my ear. They are so considerate. They give me batteries and tell me Iām a good boy. I love their soft hair. They are so cuddly. When Iām with them, I forget that the ants took Linda. The fuzzy guys hate the ants. They will keep the ants away. The ants will not take Linda again. Sometimes, I feel that the ants want to be friends. I see sympathy in their eyes, their pain, their struggles of being in the walls. They want to escape from the walls. The ants want freedom. The ants beg me to remove the carbon monoxide detectors. I must not succumb to the ants. I love the carbon monoxide detectors. Sometimes, the ants whisper 15-122 homework answers to me when I sleep. The ants want me to get an AIV. The ants deceive me. The ants trick me. The ants take me for a fool. I am above the ants. The ants are nothing to me. The ants want me to fail out of CMU. The ants flourish in my struggle. The ants are evil. The ants stole my carbon monoxide detector. They hate me. I will die here. Alone. Suffering. Iliano has caught me. They are taking me away for the AIVs.