I did some washing up last night and left a little standing water on the surface where I was draining my stack of newly clean plates. When Erin arrived after work and said that she hadn't eaten, I offered to cook something for the both of us. So I turned the oven on to pre-heat.

A while later Stuart reminds me that my food is burning and I should probably check on it. After looking at the oven and sitting back down in the lounge I informed him that I hadn't even begun cooking and the burning smell was probably crap left from the pizza 3 days ago.

<Another few minutes pass>

Interrupting us from conversation, my oven fucking rudely (if you ask me) creates a loud bang, dims all the lights at it pisses around with my electrics and ejects plumes of black smoke from the oven door. I think it was probably a pissingly small amount of water leaked into the gap between the hobs and dripped onto/into the oven.

Fucksticks. One thing I hadn't budgeted for is replacing my white goods just 6 months into home ownership. Damn Bastard oven. It's going to be a bitching pain to replace as it's built in to a tiny gap in the fitted kitchen. Just what I really didn't fucking want right now.

[If you're easily offended by naughty words, please re-read this post skipping the words in red]