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This is a question 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.

(, Thu 3 Nov 2005, 9:11)
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This question is now closed.

Can a bath burn?
Yes. It bloody can.
Pasted from another forum, but relevant, and, first post! Hooray for me!

So I get into bed alongside my good lady, about midnight the other night, and fall fast asleep.
An hour or so later, she's waking me up, "What's that noise?"
A really loud, incessant BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP was going on, I didn't have a clue what it was, but it sounded like it was coming from the bathroom, so I go to investigate.

Now, I'm no matinee idol, so picture if you will a naked tall skinny guy (with a beer gut) walking into his bathroom and seeing his bath on fire.

"The fucking bath's on fire!"

Mrs Udidin, we'll call her Lali, had lit a candle for her nightly bathing/contacting the dead routine, and had neglected to put it out. Now, it was on a proper glass candle stand, which was as much use as the proverbial chocolate teapot, as it had shattered when it got hot, leaving the candle to burn a ruddy great hole in my bath.

The noise was the smoke alarm, which I had completely forgotton about, saving our lives as rancid plastic fumes filled the landing.

Fire went out with the help of a handfull of water, but if it wasn't for that smoke alarm I wouldn't be typing this now, god only knows what might have happened, certainly scared the pish out of me. The bath's knackered though, 6 inch round melted burned hole in the side of it, showers only for yours truly for a while.

So, the moral of the tale is, get a smoke alarm, get a few in fact, ours came free with the burglar alarm and I owe my bathroom, if not my life and the life of the woman I love, to it.

Cracking anecdote though, silver linings etc.

(, Thu 3 Nov 2005, 10:29, Reply)
flaming bosoms
never try and ignite a dodgy hob whilst wearing a dressing gown.

fancying a breakfast fry-up, I turned on the gas, pushed the ignition, didn't work, pushed it again, didn't work, tried again... WHOOOOMPH! the gas finally ignited, along with the front of my dressing gown. I ran round the kitchen shrieking, tits aflame, until I managed to smack the fire out.
(, Thu 3 Nov 2005, 10:24, Reply)
I'm sure he'll forgive me for this
Well, he won't, but...

My best friend comes into the dining hall at school with both hands bandaged. He'd been in a design tech class heating a large steel bar with a blow torch when the bar slipped and fell to the floor.

So he bent down and picked it up. The crisp burning sound prompted him to drop it again, only to try picking it up with the other hand... it was about then that the pain reached his brain.

So, no fire, but plenty of burning :)
(, Thu 3 Nov 2005, 10:24, Reply)
Oh dear..
Among the many things my brother set fire to during his childhood, including himself, the best has to be when he set fire to my Dads shed when he was about 12!

Why he thought "Under the hedge is a good place for a campfire" is anyones guess, however after only a few minutes, the tinder-dry hedge had caught light and the fire rapidly spread to the side of the shed and smoke and flames were now billowing high into the sky.

He began to panic and decided now would be a good time to find some way to extinguish the inferno. Just at that second, the doorbell rang. So my dearest little brother leaves the bucket he was filling with water and the fire and goes to answer the door. "Hello, did you know your hedge is on fire", exclaimed the neighbour who was now fearful for his own property. "YES!" wailed my brother, who then ran back to the garden just as the sound of fire engine sirens filled the air.

I wish I was there to see the picture when my Dad arrived home from work to see a fire engine outside his home and smoke billowing from the garden and my beshevilled little brother stood there all damp and blackened in his slippers.

My Dad was never the jolliest of people, I am surprised my brother is still with us! =)
(, Thu 3 Nov 2005, 10:23, Reply)
How to get thrown out of a gig
Mike Woz Ere has reminded me of a story a friend recounted to me about his wierdest ever gig experience. If you're reading this, Tracy gave you my number and I've still not heard from you, you crazy fool.

Anyway - picture the scene. Gurning friend, wearing (IIRC) a flowery dress, DMs, eyeliner and a few days' stubble, goes to see Sultans of Ping. From the outset he was a bit the worse for wear. Actually, I think that was pretty much his ground state.

Much wobbling in time to music commences and said friend decides some poppers might be a nice idea. Now, I personally know nothing about them, so I have no idea why he decided to set them alight at that point.

So there he is, flaming poppers in hand, when he gets bumped by another SoP gurner in the mosh. Poppers promptly spill over his hand. "Oh dear", he thinks, "that's not good. My hand is on fire somewhat".

The logical thing to do is therefore move the bottle of poppers from the flaming hand - which he does by throwing them to his other hand. Spilling more flaming poppers - over his *other* hand. So now both hands are on fire and panic starts to set in.

Self preservation dictates that he really should get rid of the bottle. So he drops it, whereupon flaming poppers spill all over his feet. Stamping out the flames makes it worse. In fact, it covers his boots in flaming poppers.

Before they burnt out and he was ejected from the premises - and, unerstandably, not allowed to return - he briefly stood in the middle of the gig, panic on his face, sister's flowery dress flapping around his hairy legs, both hands and both feet blazing away.

What a twat. Lovely bloke, but a twat.

Oh, and one time my shower caught fire due to a short circuit. That was rather surreal.
(, Thu 3 Nov 2005, 10:12, Reply)
Leeds festival
usual stuff and we had the camp fire running strong - in my drunken state i declared to my mates that i wanted to piss on someone's bonfire- but for real.

Never do it.

It instantly made this weird fog like cloud that seemed to stay still in the air for ages, with a smell of piss mixed with dead bodies and sulphur.

Funnily enough nobody sat with us that night. Or spoke to me properly.
I warned them though i'd do it..
(, Thu 3 Nov 2005, 10:08, Reply)
I've just been

What a bunch of cuntspume.
(, Thu 3 Nov 2005, 10:06, Reply)
We seem to be repeating very old questions of the week.

Is this going downhill or is it my imagination?
Mod Edit: nope, it's a wider version of an old one. Of course, grumping about it is really helping...
(, Thu 3 Nov 2005, 10:05, Reply)
I once had a sparkly, multicoloured, tinselly wig and left it perched on top of my lampshade, which was switched on, until it got so hot it melted, started smoking and filled the room with noxious fumes.

My friend also stuck her trainer in a campfire once until it caught fire and she panicked and put it out with her hand...never a good idea!
(, Thu 3 Nov 2005, 9:58, Reply)
Me and my mates were being drunk and stupid at a party;
We were messing around with deodorants and stuff in my mates back garden. We were doing the usual thing of spraying things and seeing how they reacted when you put a flame to them, naturally some things got the alien flamethrower effect better than others.
So we blew up a couple of lighters in a bucket, boring stuff and then we found this can of radiator spray paint. We pressed the top down and lit it and i swear the flame went about 4 foot, to us it was amazing.

So in our drunken states we reasoned that we couldn't set fire to many other things in the garden without setting fire to his house potentially. So we went across the road....

Now across the road there was a metal hut in a field used for training for football or something. So we went over and set the can on its side with the nozzle against the wall of the hut and with a pavement stone holding the base steady. The can was that powerful it kept pushing the block out of the way - eventually i held it in place and lit the stream.

This is what it looked like


Because it was a huge fucking stone holding it in place tho rather than my puny fingers, it was coming out all the more faster. At first it wouldn't light because it kept putting the flame out from the force of the gas and paint, then this flame covered my head and body for about half a second. I panicked and shook my fingers through my hair and stuff as you would!

We stepped back and the flame was about 5 foot high, maybe more - then we ran like fuck.

Cut to an hour later, us all sat in my mates house with me shitting ten covered head to foot with radiator paint, stinking of fire and burnt flesh. My hair and eyebrows burnt. Add to that drunk people from the party complaining about why the lights were out.

Oh yeah, i think there were 3 fire engines, two ambulances and two police cars. I never went back to my mates house again from fear.
(, Thu 3 Nov 2005, 9:57, Reply)
Toasty warm
Having long graduated from university, the student traits prevail such that most of our flat is pretty dirty. This includes the kitchen where every few months or so the toaster has a loaf of crumbs shaken out of it. However, this one time the many years of service were too much for the toaster. I was in the lounge during a toast-making exercise when I smelled a worrying aroma. I dashed into the kitchen to see flames leaping from the charcoal briquettes of bread stuck inside the toaster. I ejected the toast and flung it, using a fork, into the sink.

But that wasn't the end of it. The years of crumbs ensrusting the inside of the toaster were on fire. I unplugged the toaster and tried to blow them out. But, like lifeboat matches, it was impossible to extinguish. Cue me throwing the toaster into the sink and flooding it with water. The fire was out, but we had lost a dear friend. I bought a new toaster later that day, but I'll never forget our old one who gave us so much joy and sustenance through our student years.
(, Thu 3 Nov 2005, 9:53, Reply)
Ok this is a bit of a long one so stick with me.
My mum and dad have a pub and they also have a house back in the village I grew up in that they rent out. Every year this little village has a fetival which is just an excuse for a massive 3 day piss up, this year me and my boyfriend were invited to go an stay with my parents in their house for the festival because the tennant had just moved out.

There was very little in the house just beds, sofa, chairs, firdge and a cooker but mum being very practical packed up the car and brough loads of stuff with her. Cut to the first morning in the house and mum has brought some yummy bacon with her from the pub and sets out to make bacon butties to set us up for a day of drinking.

I am in the living room setting up the garden table so we can eat and my other half is helping mum in the kitchen. It was at that point I hear the words "what is that funny smell?" followed by shrieks from my mum.

In her haste to unpack she had put a pile of tupperware boxes on top of the cooker. She had forgotten to remove them before starting to cook the bacon. The tupperware was now melting and dripping down through the grill onto the grill pan and catching fire. My boyfriend acted quickly as my mum went into a complete tizzy, he took off the boxes which meant the remains caught fire, threw a tea towel in the sink soaked it and put it on top of the cooker. Alas the stuff of the grill pan was still burning and now the tea towel was in danger of catching fire, the grill pan was dumped in the sink and both taps turned on.

My mum was going crazy saying dad was going to kill her at which point he emerged from the shower to thick clouds of toxic plastic smoke and asks "whats happened has there been an accident?" with in a heartbeat all three of us said "no".
When he saw the mess he burst out laughing and spent the rest of the day telling everyone how a trainned chef with her own restaurant nearly burn the house down making bacon sarnies.

I think the tea towel is still welded to the top of the cooker with molten plastic.
(, Thu 3 Nov 2005, 9:49, Reply)
chemistry teachers. bless.
3rd year chem class, and we are learning about flash point temperatures in different materials. I accidentally set light to a lageish beaker of hexane. I panic, and hurl it into the sink by the workbench. Mr Cowe, seeing the immpressive conflagration, rushes over. I panic more, and turn the cold water tap on full power. Flaming hexane splashes over me, and a big part of the classroom. No injuries, and only minor damage, but several weeks detention. I still have dreams about how cool it looked, though...
(, Thu 3 Nov 2005, 9:48, Reply)
While camping in the bleak mountains of Wales, I was cold and hungry, so tried to make myself a cup-a-soup.

Unfortunately I stood a little too near the trangie (meths-powered campfire) and when I spilled water, a jet of burning meths left the stove and shot 5ft in the air, towards the tents.

Cue hilarity and beatings as my friends made me understand the stupidity of my actions.

(, Thu 3 Nov 2005, 9:42, Reply)
Fun with ligher fuel
My chum who we'll call "Beaker" once tried to demonstrate how you can pour lighter fuel into your palm, light it and the flame hovers over your hand.

Unfortunately he rather overdid it on the lighter fuel and ended up with his hand on fire which he tried to put out by shaking it violently around the lounge.

The resulting effect was not unlike something out of the X-men. Only with more swearing.
(, Thu 3 Nov 2005, 9:41, Reply)
When I came into work
early (7am) one morning with my mate (Darth Munki), we were greeted by screams for help by the normally mute thai cleaning lady. We walked round the corner into the kitchen to find the 1950s kettle and a small portion of the brand new sideboard in flames! I dashed for a fire extinguisher while DM tried to find a fire alarm (the fire safety at our godawful workplace is so shit he didn't manage to find a hint of one). Luckily, my still half asleep mind managed to work out that using the water extinguisher on a flaming, sparking and generally fucked kettle probably wasn't the greatest idea known to mankind. I grabbed the CO2 one and fired it at the kettle, extinguishing the evil flames once and for all and leaving the company with a hefty bill for a new sideboard and kettle.

The thing is, I thought myself and DM would be gratefully recognised by the company for preventing a fire which could have gutted the building and their disease ridden multi-million pound business once and for all, but all we got was 10 minutes to stand outside and have a quick fag while the smoke cleared.

Having said that, that's a decent reward in this place!
(, Thu 3 Nov 2005, 9:36, Reply)
not 2 days ago
i met a friend's boyfriend, who managed to set fire to the flowers he had brought on a candle and had to stamp them out on the floor. best Cluesoesque entrance ever.
(, Thu 3 Nov 2005, 9:35, Reply)
Mr Darcy saved my life
A few years ago when Pride and Prejudice was first shown on TV, my family were awake unusually late watching the highly coveted period drama/romance. We heard a loud snap from the kitchen and upon investigating we found our electric kettle in flames.

My Dad sprung into a action rushing to his car to get the fire extinguisher and although it seemed like a year, the fire was out in a matter of minutes. There was only slight damage to the wallpaper, cupboard and kitchen surface (which my parents were particularly pissed off about since they'd only finished decorating the kitchen the day before). We contacted Rowenta and it turns out that model had been recalled a few years previously because of a fault that could cause a fire, none the less they paid for the damage and peace was restored.

To this day we are thankful to Pride and Prejudice and in particular Mr Darcy who my mum fancied, without whom we'd have probably all been in bed leaving the fire to spread unchecked.

Length? Nothing like Mr Darcy’s.
(, Thu 3 Nov 2005, 9:35, Reply)
when i was 5,
i remember looking up from my dinosaur book to see what the awful smell was about, and, upon seeing flames shooting out the slots of the toaster, yelling "MOM! THE TOASTER'S ON FIRE!" ..then i calmly resumed my reading, allowing her to deal with it.
apparently, i had put a plastic knife in while it was toasting, and she was in the w.c. right after being told why it wasn't a good idea to put knives in toasters. but i don't actually remember that bit.
(, Thu 3 Nov 2005, 9:32, Reply)
Zippo Flamethrower
Taking the inside of a Zippo out and blowing through the bottom while lighting it can be amusing - but not just after you've filled it.
Managed to set my face on fire doing this while drunk and the person of the female gender I was trying to impress went elsewhere that night.
(, Thu 3 Nov 2005, 9:31, Reply)
All's well that ends well...
Fell asleep leaving candles burning.

Lost back half of the house.

Family lucky to be alive.

Sat on smoke-damaged sofa in smoke-damaged lounge in smoke-damaged daze as firemen rushed about.

First words out of my mouth to my folks as I reach for my tabs: "Anyone got a light?"

Family ROFL - firemen give us wide berth.

Well, we were insured and Mum got a new kitchen!

Stay warm :¬)
(, Thu 3 Nov 2005, 9:27, Reply)
I got home last night and it was cold
so I put the fire on.

Later I was a bit too warm so I turned it off.

Then I went to bed.

With a goat.
(, Thu 3 Nov 2005, 9:27, Reply)
While still living with my parents at the tender age of 17
I was out in the back garden one Sunday morning while they were out, having a sneaky fag whilst still in my dressing gown.

I was sitting on one of the patio chairs, with my feet up on the other, and went to light my cigarette with a match. As I struck it, it lit, but snapped, with the lit end falling onto my dressing gown, which promptly caught fire.

My natural reaction was to jump up, in the hope of causing the source of the fire to fall to the floor. However, this resulted in the fire shooting round my dressing gown and up my back *whooomph* and setting fire to my youthfully-long-hair.

Cue me dropping my dressing gown, and jumping up and down on it in nothing but my slippers.

I know why they say smoking's bad for you. . .
(, Thu 3 Nov 2005, 9:27, Reply)
never, ever, EVER
douse a football in petrol and light it. And continue to play with it. In petrol sodden wellies.
(, Thu 3 Nov 2005, 9:25, Reply)
4th post
When I was just a little lad I lived in a nice town in Germany. Germany has a lot of old traditions and things, moreso celebrated in smaller towns.

One of these is some kind of annual festival involving carrying lanterns around. I think it might have had a vaguely religious background, probably in celebration of a saint or something for all I know. Anyway, all the lil'uns (me included) would make these flimsy paper lanterns and put those small candles in them. Then we'd walk up to somewhere with them, do something and walk home. This was a long time ago, bear in mind. When we got to the kindergarten I was *apparently* shaking my lantern too much and it started burning. I dropped it and watched it burn. A little while later the old people i was with saw this and started trying to put out the fire and stuff. I had chosen to drop my lantern in a pile of leaf litter or something. I was amused.

What, were you expecting something interesting?
(, Thu 3 Nov 2005, 9:20, Reply)
I once poured poppers onto a fire...
I knew what would happen but I did it very slowly and carefully as I didn't want the flame to shoot up...well the fire rose about 3/4 feet, the bottle set alight, along with my hand, so I panicked and threw it. When I'd put my arm out I turned around to see my friends leg on fire.

Oh how we laughed.
(, Thu 3 Nov 2005, 9:20, Reply)
Mango Juice
Sorry this is a long story! :)

Among my group of friends we have a long running tradition of birthday road-trips. This particular fire related incident took place on the return from Cornwall summer this year.

It was about 11pm, 5 occupants relaxing in the comfort of my friends new (he had been talking about it all weekend) Vauxhall Omega. Everything smooth, everything safe, bombing up the M5 on our way back to the fine city of Oxford.

I must have drifted off slightly as I woke to the sound of my friend James (the driver) muttering profanities under his breath. I asked what the problem was and he indicated towards the rear-view mirror. I looked and to my horror observed what can only be described as a total whiteout behind us! The nice tidy Omega was chucking out so much smoke it had obscured about 2/3rds of the motorway and cars where rapidly pulling back to avoid the smokescreen!

A mild sense of panic ensued and James hit the anchors pulling rapidly over to the hard shoulder. By this time everyone was awake and wondering what the fuck was going on. I (doing what mechanics do best) popped the catch and ran round the front of the car to “inspect” the damage. Lifting the bonnet was like a scene from Backdraft, 3ft flames leapt from the engine causing me to jump back flailing my arms surprise!

From my point of the view what happened next was side-splittingly funny, all 4 doors of the car sprung open in unison and in a blur of movement I was able to make out the shapes of my four friends as they legged it full pelt away from the car and down the hard shoulder. I followed, catching up and forming a small huddle about 100 yards from the inferno. Everyone was too shocked to talk… then it seemed that sense began to creep back into our instinct overridden brains….

“My phone!” one friend cried… “My bag!” said another… “My Camera!” I declared! We exchanged glances and knew what we had to do, we ran back rescue our possessions (you would do the same!!!)! I was first and when grabbing my bag noticed a 2lt bottle of water we had on the back seat. I decided since I was here I might as well try and put out the fire. I ran round to the front of the car spraying the icy Evian over the inferno with reckless abandon… the water had no effect, the fire raged on. Looking perplexed and panicked I decided smothering would be the key and went looking for something I could use for this purpose.

At this moment I hear a PISSSSSSSHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH noise and turn to see my friend Mike standing triumphantly, wide legged and grinning, pouring the contains of a 1lt bottle of CO-OP brand Orange and Mango Juice over the rapidly diminishing flames. To my utter disbelieve the fire was almost out but licks of flames could still be witnessed. Mike strolled casually round to the boot of the car, produced yet another carton of Orange and Mango juice (still grinning madly) and proceeded to douse the hissing engine, extinguishing the last of the fire.

We exchanged looks, paused, then fell about laughing. Every one of my friends (with the exception of the driver\owner) was in now in hysterics, clutching our stomachs in pain from laughing so hard.

Ironically at the precise moment the laughter was starting to subside an AA van, emergency lights flashing, sped down the hard shoulder towards us. We begin to giggle. The AA driver emerged, fire extinguisher in hand and with the war cry “Stand Back Lads!!” proceeded to coat the entire vehicle with a thick layer of white foam. Giggles became chuckles and before we knew it we where laughing again, mostly at the horrified look on James’ face as the guy heroically splattered his car with the foam.

You would think by this point the event was over… oh no! The next vehicle to arrive on the scene was a full-blown fire engine!!! The AA man ran over and explained that he had taken care of business with this extinguisher but not wishing to be outdone and firemen insisted they must make the car “safe”. This basically meant they had to wash it for us… with the fire hose!

We watched with joy as they thoroughly hosed down the engine-bay then the rest of the car whilst making comments like “you missed a bit mate”, indecently the firemen did not find this in the least bit amusing.

The AA man wished us good luck in getting home until I proudly sported my AA membership, we where loaded onto the back of the truck and with barley 20min lost we continued on our way to merry Oxford. The AA guy even let us crack open a bottle of wine in his truck to celebrate our victory over the fire!

(, Thu 3 Nov 2005, 9:20, Reply)
ooo! firstsies!
Er, well, now I'm here I better post a story.

Once I was drying a new pair of jeans by the campfire, because they were wet. They caught fire and got a large hole burnt in them. I didn't wear jeans again until about twenty years later.
(, Thu 3 Nov 2005, 9:20, Reply)

This question is now closed.

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