Ahh man. You wanna burn the house down? Tha roof, tha roof, tha roof is on fiyah! We don’ need no wattah let tha muthafucka burn! It’s just this easy. Only <font size=+3>1</font> easy step.
Invite my ex over.
Her name is Heather. She smokes… a lot. While at your house, she will catch something on fire. She almost barbequed us when we were housesitting for her parents.
If you live in Albuquerque, NM, you probably heard about an apartment complex that burned to the ground. Any guesses as to where she lived and how it started?
Fat Guy in a Little Coat,
SDMB Self-Righteous Clique
Swimming Riddles reminded me of another one…as a small child, I loved this new mini-doll. She was some kind of fairy, or something, no more than 2" long…she came in a spoon “home.” (I remember each doll in the collection came in some sort of household item “home”). Mine had lovely bright green hair.
I played with her in the bathrub, and like Riddles, wanted to dry her (nylon) hair. So, I put her right up against a light bulb in my sister’s lamp.
Go downstairs, eat dinner, watch cartoons, get confronted by an irate sister as her room is filled with smoke and the foul smell of melted nylon.
My poor little green haired doll now had a blackened, melted blob on her head. No other damage done, except to my psyche…I was so horrified at what had happened I cried myself sick. At least Mom didn’t get mad at me.
Once when I was 13 or so, I made a coffee cake. Unfortunately, my mom has never given up her belief in the kitchen fairies, which will take care of things like the roasting pan full of congealed fat (lower rack) and pizza box with hardened pizza (upper rack) which were in the oven when I started preheating it. I opened the oven to put the cake in and flames shot out at me. I tried to throw baking soda on it, but it was way beyond that. Luckily, my dad heard the commotion, and I learned how to work a fire extinguisher. Moral: Always LOOK in the oven before you preheat it. Second moral: The kitchen fairies have many houses to visit. Do them a favor and clean the roasting pan yourself.
Remember, I’m pulling for you; we’re all in this together.
—Red Green
Okay embarrassing fire stories. My friend Michelle’s brother was making out with his girlfriend in her house, apparently things got boisterous and he ended up having to run out, being late for work. Anyhoo, the girlfriend was relaxing basking in afterglow I suppose when she smelled fire. When the smoke alarm went off, she grabbed her cats threw on a robe and called the fire department.
The laughing firemen brought out the cause, her panties, now scorched. In her boyfriend exuberance he had thrown them through the air as they sailed and landed on a halogen lamp.
1.) Have long hair.
2.) Don’t bother to wash your hair for two days in a row.
3.) Light a cigarette just as a forelock falls down across your face.
There was a sudden fwoom, and my entire field of vision was full of flames. Thankfully, before I could even finish the thought, “Oh my f—ing God my f—ing hair is on fire” it suddenly went out, leaving me none the worse for wear (although with an interesting stench for the next hour or so).
Wow. By my count that makes 3 of us who almost set the house on fire by leaning dolls against light bulbs to dry their hair. This does not count the numerous times I “curled” different dolls’ hair with my sister’s curling iron. We should form a club.
I’m the appointed fire marshall among my friends. When we have weekends at my friend’s cabin, I am in charge of everything that gets ignited: the BBQ, the fireworks, and the massive bonfire that somehow has never killed us. The wood for said fire often is a few feet taller than me prior to ignition. (The wood igniting, not me.) The weirdest thing is, I am the safest person in the world around fire, but am totally accident prone in every other aspect of my life. This morning, for example, I cut my hand open (blood 'n everything) on A SPIRALL BOUND NOTEBOOK! Not a paper cut, but the plastic spirall. Huh?
Now, when it comes to fire, fireworks, etc., I have an umblemished safety record. (I’d knock on wood, but then the wood pile would fall over and kill me.)
How about this:
Be an impatient 9 year old girl.
Decide that the Christmas presents are probably in the attic.
Decide that a candle is probably your best source of lighting in this instance.
Not me, my cousin. Burned the ENTIRE house down to the ground a week before Christmas.
This is not the only house she’s burned down…we’re starting to get a bit suspicious.
How about this:
Be an impatient 9 year old girl.
Decide that the Christmas presents are probably in the attic.
Decide that a candle is probably your best source of lighting in this instance.
Not me, my cousin. Burned the ENTIRE house down to the ground a week before Christmas.
This is not the only house she’s burned down…we’re starting to get a bit suspicious.
how about this:
be an impatient NINE year old girl.
Decide to go on a Christmas present hunt in the attic.
Decide that the best source of light for this occasion is a candle.
Not me, my cousin. Burned the ENTIRE house down to the ground. This was actually the second time she had done this. Had her third last year (she’s now in her mid-thirties). Don’t know about the rest of the family, but I’m a little suspicious.
For me, it was an inquisitive nature, a love of ‘inventing’, and parts from a waffle iron. We built a small little device which would light a bulb, and when the coil got to a certain heat, the bulb would turn off…Well, it was a neat little gizmo that we had built before, except of course that the other time we built it we didn’t have it in a cardboard box…we let it run and laughed at it working and oohhhed and ahhhed. (I was about 5, brothers about 7.) when it suddenly went fwoomp into flames. Luckily, dad was near and pulled the plug and used an extinguisher on it.
>>Being Chaotic Evil means never having to say your sorry…unless the other guy is bigger than you.<<
As a kid (3?), I took one of my sister’s dolls (her first, I think) and for some reason put it up against an electric space heater. Scorched her hair off. My folks seem to think it was jealousy on my part. I don’t remember why. (But I did get a great stuffed lion out of the deal.)
Had a night light in my room right next to my bed. The plug was behind the head of my bed. For some reason I wanted it darker (I think). I put my pillow over the light. The next morning, I woke up to find a golf ball sized hole scorched in my pillow and pillowcase. I am so lucky they make those things flame retardant. (Note to people with kids - make sure the night light is not next to the bed. Make sure kids want a night light.)
Not burning down a house, but flaming fun none the less. This New Year’s Eve, to boot. My sister’s boyfriend got some fireworks for a party he was DJing. Some of the big type that are launched from a tube and shoot up in the sky, making loud bangs with lots of pretty colors. Apparently you can buy them now at fireworks stands. (Or maybe you always could?) For whatever reason they didn’t work quite right. He set off a couple, and each time called my sister over to be next to him when they went off to watch them fly high. He set off a cluster of 4 that didn’t work quite right. The first three went off, but the fourth was delayed, and didn’t go off till it fell almost to the ground. I didn’t mention the drunks with the bonfire, or the fact the launch area was a bit too close to the crowd. The tardy firework went off about 5 feet off the ground, shooting sparks toward the nearby people. One flaming spark careened right into my sister’s forehead, singing her bangs and causing a mild burn.
She was okay - very minor injury (and very lucky it didn’t hit her eyes). She was scared it fried all her hair off, but it was barely singed around the edges. The biggest effect was making her hair smell like burnt hair for the rest of the night until she took a shower. Just lets you know if you must play with fireworks, observe some basic safety practices. First, have the launch area a good 30 to 40 feet away from anyone. Second, fireworks and drunks are not a good plan. Third, if a flaming spark shoots towards your face, don’t duck and let it hit your girlfriend. Be a man and take it yourself. (Since he’s nearly bald, the singing wouldn’t have been an issue, either. Plus he’s about a foot and a half taller than her, so it likely would have hit his chest instead of face.)
Back as a youngster again (what, go in order?), the family went out to some private land for a campout. We started a campfire without observing basic campfire safety, such as a ring of rocks and clearing the grass around the rocks. It was dry. Very dry. The grass ignited. Suddenly two adults and three panicked children are stomping on burning grass trying to stop a grass fire. We did succeed in getting it out before spreading too far, but it wouldn’t have taken much to get beyond our control.
This one doesn’t involve burning down the house, but it does involve personal injury. As a tyke, I discovered how exciting it was to throw pieces of styrofoam in the fireplace and watch them melt. Very pretty, very fun. Suddenly one popped, and a glob of molten styrofoam landed on my finger. I scream and am taken to the sink. I burned a nice hole in my knuckle. It was pretty to watch the skin grow back. I still have a scar, though it’s not very noticable.
And then there’s always putting a bag of popcorn in the microwave and then forgetting it’s in there, and leaving it for the full 5 minutes. And burned popcorn smell lasted for 3 days. (I finally realized I had to take the garbage out to get it to stop.)
Forget about it, and in the midst of conversation, lean in and set your sleeve on fire. Hey, it worked for me!
The upshot was that my new shirt had two little tiny holes in the left sleeve (the fabric had been folded over and so burned through in two places). I actually wasn’t hurt in the slightest, but it was kind of embarrassing. I am a klutz, as further evidence by the following story.
Today I stuck my thumbnail in my forehead, though, making a visible thumbnail/crescent moon shape indentation in my forehead. I don’t think I could accurately explain how I managed to do this, and it was very painful. I hope the mark goes away before, say, tomorrow. I feel like Cain.
~Harborina
“This is my sandbox. I’m not allowed to go in the deep end. That’s where I saw the leprechauns.”
