Oven-Mitts? Really!

I am living in a bachelor pad. Make no mistake we are primitive creatures, us men. Now since moving in at the Berry house for the summer I have been confronted on several different occasions by the fact that there are no oven-mitts in our kitchen. This usually results in a frantic search for a tea-towel (which are also in short supply in our kitchen) whilst my precious nachos (the diet of a true church-working bachelor) start to turn just a little too crispy. Yesterday I solved this dilemma forever.
Glancing into the oven I saw, to my delight, that the cheese was bubbling wonderfully! In my jubilation I forgot momentarily the oven-mitt dilemma. But in my exuberant haste I improvised (if I may say so) brilliantly. In a matter of seconds my T-shirt was off of my body and in my hand. I confidently opened the oven door, grabbed hold of my prize and removed if from that hazardous inferno before my cheese began to burn and my chips turned brown. In the blink of an eye my T-shirt was back on my body and I was eating nachos! Now at first I didn't realize the implications of my discovery, but as I neared the end of my feasting and my mind made room for other thoughts, (thoughts that were not those of the euphoric stimulation that is mine through the medium of cheesy nachos) it began to dawn on me: This spells the end of Oven-Mitts! Long live the bachelor's 'T'.

~As I was writing this I have been observing my room-mate's uncanny ability to read with his eyes shut! If only I had such ability, but alas. Maybe he's an alien?

much love and smiles,

Stewie