Fire alarms god damn!

Four in the last four days. That's right, four. One early Saturday morning. All results of burning popcorn, grilled cheese, smoking, and ultra-sensitive smoke detectors. The funniest, though, are the times when the alarm doesn't go off. Like this morning, when our microwave burst into flames as my neighbor Kartik heated pasta. The hall still smells of melted plastic. But did the alarm go off? No! Or when my floor got slightly over-zealous assembling absinthe shots (for those of you who don't know, it involves melting sugar) and lit an alcohol fire across an entire desk. But hey, neither of those fires spread, right? As long as we're safe.