I know, I know. I’m an old sod who goes on and on about his glory days in space. Whatever. I know I’m brilliant. I don’t need little trolls on the internet like you reading this telling me what I am or am not. I’m an ex-astronaut for love’s sake! Do you have any idea what that means? That means I studied engineering at university and graduated with a PHD in aeronautics. It means I went through hours and hours of grueling training, physical discipline above anything you mere mortals could ever understand. Do you honestly think that I can’t repair a domestic oven?
Well, the missus makes a call to a fridge and oven repairs company to come over and do our whirlpool repairs. Sydney has plenty of companies that provide this type of service, but when she made that call I put my finger on the receiver and said, ‘What was the point of marrying an astronaut if he can’t fix your oven for you?!
So I got in there and did my best. The damn thing was no ordinary oven let me tell you. I’m sure my oven repairing skills are just fine thank you but the darn thing broke on me. As you can imagine, the old lady was fuming.
“Why didn’t you just let me call the repairs company!” she sooked.
I told her, “Get a new oven. Then I’ll show you. I’m an ex astronaut for crying out loud!”
So she goes out and buys a Bosch oven. Finally, I’m thinking, a decently fricking oven. But that thing was faulty too. I said, “Step aside, honey and let masternaut take care of it.”
She was gripping my arm at this stage trying to pull me away, saying she had already called up Bosch repairs around Sydney. I was rather miffed at this so I gave up and sank onto the couch. Another day in the life of an ex-astronaut.