Fire!We were all in my aunt's kitchen at the back of her huge rambling Victorian house. I was only small and had wandered off to go to the loo, but given up after finding the hall full of smoke. "That was quick," my mum said after a few minutes. "Yes - it's all smoky," I replied.
I've never seen adults move so fast.
So, like my cousin who'd managed to set fire to the roof, tell us your fire stories.
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chthonic, Thu 3 Nov 2005, 9:11)
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Earlier this week...I was at our uni's LGBT Halloween bash - surrounded by pretty gay boys and drag queens and getting more than a little wasted on the triple vodkas everyone seemed to be buying me.
A few hours in and I've pretty much lost my fine motor skills, and end up pouring a shot of something horribly alcoholic down myself. Ah well, I think, 'tis only booze, it'll wash out, and get back to watching the queens dance.
Next minute some drunken gay has staggered up to me, draped his arm round my shoulder and given me a kiss on the ear - while dropping his cigarette down my alcohol-sodden cleavage.
Cue a beautiful blue glow with an orange tinge appearing down my shirt - which looked very pretty in the darkness of the club - but hurt like fuck. So naturally I squeal like the girly I am and beating at myself to try to put out the fire whilst screaming "My fucking TITS are on FIRE!" repeatedly and at great volume, elicting the wonderful response from some TV in the corner "Well take 'em off then luv!"
To add to it all, I manage to miss the bus back the next morning and have to wander round Durham, surrounded by rahs, for a couple of hours with my shirt burnt to fuck, still humiliated at having been mistaken for a drag queen. Fabulous darling.
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Seventh is somewhat subdued, Thu 3 Nov 2005, 14:28,
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