Is That Bobby In The Shower?

So the odds are so very against this thing happening, but I'm going to pursue the idea as far as I can take it.  On paper, anyway.  253 days.  I suspect I'll stay in my comfortable suburban condo until I die.  No garden, no yard, and I'm bound to get myself a cute little fluffy dog sooner or later.  (They have some really interesting rescues at the DCACC!)