I've caught fire in St. Paul's Cathedral
I've been waiting for years to tell B3ta this story... ~wavy lines~

Back when Galemp was about eight years old, he and his parents toured London at Christmastime. This being the early '90s I was lovingly bundled in a huge, poofy, neon yellow ski jacket to keep warm. Wandering about the Tower of London, Westminster Abbey, and so on, we eventually came to St. Paul's.

I was enthralled by the space, the echoes, the windows, and especially by the votive candles. I had had a great-aunt who had recently died, and with my parents' blessing dropped my 20p in the box and dutifully lit a candle, placing it with a smile on the highest row of the tiered rack. This highest row, naturally, being at the back, with four other rows of candles under my outstretched arm.

Shortly thereafter the entire right side of my poofy winter ski coat was engulfed in flames, whereupon I was beset on all sides by persons bludgeoning me with whatever was at hand. I continued to wear that jacket for the rest of the trip and, indeed, for the rest of the winter, as a souvenier of my outstanding judgement.
(Galemp makes FreeSpace better, Fri 2 Sep 2011, 17:59, 1 reply)

"poofy"

( monster munch person, man, woman... camera... TV?, Fri 2 Sep 2011, 19:41, closed)