Young, Dumb and full of...
Stupidity! That's what. I would say that most of my dalliances with death came at an age when I still harboured thoughts of becoming a super hero and my sister was a punch bag crying machine. 'Punch her in the stomach, it doesn't bruise' was the rallying cry of my somewhat misguided youth. Well, actually my brother passed that nugget of info onto me, but I fear I'm drifting off topic...

I believe electricity was a reoccurring theme throughout these gloriously carefree times. I had a fascination with all things electric. This culminated in me issuing instructions that all failed appliances should henceforth be delivered to my room so that I could dismantle them. Many an afternoon was spent with components from items such as the food blender or dads old drill strewn across the floor. My weapons of choice for the job were a small set of screwdrivers and a hammer. It was however a particularly sad day when the tv died and I was party to its disposal without even being offered first refusal on its utter destruction at my skilled hands. Dad said that there were dangerous gasses inside so I wouldn't be allowed to take it apart. My counter argument that I'd take apart outside on a windy day were swiftly diffused with a chocolate bribe. Many a situation was solved with a bribe or a trip to my room for several hours. I do mostly recall the latter being the preferred choice for my parents. I also think it may have only been a few minutes, but when you're 9 time seems to move infinitely more slowly. Anyway, back to the topic at hand.

By the age of 10 I was sufficiently skilled to be able to perform delicate work on numerous appliances. My thirst for knowledge was unerring, but unfortunately the supply of broken appliances was unable to match it. So it came to pass that I decided to disassemble working appliances. After all was I not an electrical genius at this point? Any person who can strip a blender into its component parts in under 5 hrs was more than qualified in my books.

The sense of right and wrong was very strong within me after being marshalled by such awesome parents. I knew it was right to take apart my bedside lamp, but equally I knew it was wrong to do it in view of mum & dad in the lounge. I waited until she was busy with sunday lunch and dad was mowing the lawn. A blend of ruthless efficiency, cunning and adrenalin took hold as I stripped my lamp down to a shell of its former self and rebuilt it in less time than it took dad to fill up the lawn mower with petrol and shout at the dog to bugger off or he'd set about it with the garden shears.

The moment of truth arrived and reached confidently towards the light switch. All I recall after the massive flash of light was the searing pain that ran through my hand. I lay sprawled on the floor, dazed and in extreme agony. I looked at my blackened hand with tears streaming down my face. My cries of agony had brought both parents to my aid. Although I don't recall this happening, I'm quite sure they would have both breathed a collective sigh and thought, 'What the fuck has he done now!'. Yes, I was that sort of kid.

I would like to say that was my last ever electrical experiment, but alas that would be a lie. On one particularly dull Sunday morning I decided that rather than traipse all the way to the toilet I shall relieve myself on mums electric heater in her room. Why on earth I did that I shall never know, but at the time it was practically begging to be pissed on. The smell was horrendous. Even the dog left the room in disgust. Fortunately on this occasion I didn't get a shock, but I do recall having a burning sensation in my ears and on my arse for some time afterwards.
(The Archduke of South London I'm in your Girlfriend eating her organs, Fri 13 Feb 2009, 11:20, 1 reply)

Fuck me
thats a good read!

cheers!
( SpankyHanky, Sat 14 Feb 2009, 19:54, closed)