There's a British Man in the Basement

So I got home from Art class and what should I see but a strange truck in the driveway. My dad's a plumber, but this was a different plumbing van. I enter the house and say "Hello?" and someone replied back in an accent I can't pick up "Hello." I go to investigate and there's this man hunched over in the corner. He says he's here to fix the water heater and I recognize a British accent. I say okay and go upstairs. Now I can't wash my hands for twenty minutes, although by now it's got to be fifteen.

In other news, Lost is on tonight. There on the season finale, which means there going to answer all those annoying questions about the island soon. Unfortunately, it means there's not going to be any new Lost episodes. This makes me sad, because Lost is a really good show and it's basically all I have going on Thursdays. Now all I've got is Heroes, so the narrative had better pick up because Season 2 was seriously lagging. I figure the thing to do is write a bunch of stories as a TV series of my own. I could set them up as a novel or something.