Be there gas in that there lighter.
Xyphious reminded me of a similar spaktard experience. I had a clipper lighter that sounded like it was out of gas. But just to be sure I gave it a shake, put it up to my ear and tuned the flint wheel a little too far. There was definitely some gas left in there as the resulting whump ignited my rather frizzy long hair.
Oh yeah and another one. I'm on a National Express coach, sat at the back, on a hot summers day many moons ago. I'm reading Kerrang, have my headphones on and am rolling a smoke. I'm in my own little world. Now I had long frizzy hair that generally grew outwards and was everywhere including hanging down over my forehead. I light my roll up and, unbeknown to me, the fringe of my hair. A blob of flaming hair falls down onto the magazine, my brain engages and I slam my hand to my forehead extinguishing the flaming hair into the skin leaving a funny shapped burn. I'm suddenly aware of the rest of the coach and look up. Everyone, it seemed, was looking back at me with a look of bemusement or anger and a steady cloud of stinking burnt hair was drifting down the aisle of the bus. I shrugged, said sorry and carried on reading.
(Dellamorte Dellamore Fuck it all, fuck it up, fuck it., Fri 21 Dec 2007, 12:53, Reply)