Note how I say bachelor, any sane person would not buy this. And I mean sane as in having enough sense to not do something stupid, as a guy it is very hard to not do something stupid at least once a day. If I had a girlfriend/wife I would actually be able to function in society better than usual which boils down to “Huh?” or “cool”.
Any-hoo my friend decided to go to a flea market and buy some stuff, flea markets are the best place to go to buy stuff, that is all they sell. And he picks up a hot air balloon. A full size, bright red hot air balloon. For $50.
I’m sooooooo jealous.
Of course the balloon needs a couple of things, such as a basket and “One of those flamethrower thingies”. It filled up his car, and now it fills up his house.
I want one soooooo bad.
He plans on flying it one day. Off of his roof. In Philadelphia.
You might want to keep a video camera and the email address for the Darwin Awards handy. You might as well make a buck or two off him if he decides to try it.
I think it’s an unfair burden to place on womankind, assuming that any one of them could save this man from himself. They are, after all, only human beings.
It’s irrelevant anyway; this man does not need saving. He needs a grant.
I’ve got 250 yards of parachute cord. Will that do? Unfortunately, Jenn has denied me the priviledge in joining the test flight. Something about “paying the bills”, or some-such married non-sense.
I know that is why I’m so jealous, my house if full of amazing stuff it is a friggin’ bachelor uber-pad. But know I dunno now it seems so insignificant.
He has a totally useless thing taking up tons of space in his house, he can tinker with it, it needs a friggin flamethrower. And it flies. What more do you need? And I’m sure (pretty sure) that it is a total babe magnet.
I’m speechless. $50?!? He has every justification, NAY, he has the DUTY to go to the nearest architectural salvage store, buy an old bathtub, contact Ferrous, rig it up with his parachute cord, and fire it up.
This is just screaming out “Fourth of July” all over it.
If you can’t manage Ferrous’s oxy-acetylene rig, tell your friend to get himself one of those propane burners used to deep-fry a turkey. Heck, any self-respecting dangerously handy crank ought to have one of those lying around, anyway. Better make it two.
Strap a half-dozen gas barbecue propane tanks to the bottom of a lawn chair and you’re halfway to Canada, my friend!
And I have to agree with Kamandi that a lawn chair is superior to a basket for this particular adventure. I know it’s been done before, but it still has serious cachet.
Surely every self-respecting bachelor has one of those jet-powered beer coolers? Maybe he could modify that.
Also, in true Darwinian fashion, how could he even consider using a basket? Not nearly cool enough. Use a sofa instead. Maybe dangle a little TV out on a boom, and then he could sit there with a beer and the remote as he wafts gracefully over the suburbs…
