Arriving back home from the laundromat (Strike One – Broken Washer), I was greeted by a dead bird on the deck (Strike Two – Gotta Love a Visit from the Grim Reaper).

Disposing of our dearly departed feathered friend, I was informed of an epic toilet backup requiring immediate attention (Strike Three – You’re Out).

Trying to anticipate the next disaster, I began weeping and tore my sackcloth.  It’s always good to be in the proper state of mind, because the fire and brimstone will surely come a knockin’.