When I were a lad...
...of about 14 years of age - I found myself in a church with another pyromanic fiend pouring wax crayons into an oven an onto a hob (of the kitchen in this church).

This was back in the day when there wasn't much for kids to do in the holidays - apart from a choice of 3 cinemas, free ski-ing/snow-boarding, ice skating, various sports clubs, stamp collecting :S, swimming, church club (of-course), dozens of brilliant parks like the ones with massive tubular steel slides which you burn your arse on in the summers coz they get so hot, but apart from that, there wasn't really much to do.

So after finding ourselves inside a big churchy chapel type place, greeted with a big fuckoff kitchen, loadsa free biscuits, camomile teabags, (I grabbed a wall clock - and gave it to my gran the following x-mas - the SHAME!).

There was this big fookoff oven - had about eight hobs and a double sized oven.

Ofcourse, being a church it had an assortment of wax crayons - so in they went. And out we went.


Weeks went by, and I got a knock on the door. I think I was upstairs having a wank and literally shat myself when I heard the police radio beeping - it's one of those things that used to shit me up as a kid coz I knew I was in DEEP DEEP SHIT.

Turned out the other so called mate had grassed me up to get out of trouble after an old crinkly had seen us coming out of the church.

Cue a very frightening experience in a police station, getting my prints taken and then put in a cell for 2 hours - then handed a bill for the damage - £2,500! Officer says if I can't afford it, I'll be going to prison. Crying, tears everywhere etc etc as you do, then was set free!! Yey.
With a frigging caution. That was it!

The next week I set fire to some grass that was growing on a rock behind someones house (height of summer) - went to town, came back, a big fuckoff fire engine was there putting it out and about 3 police cars loitering about! Again shat meself.

And I think that's when I stopped setting things on fire, apart from the few instances involving placcy bags - which are really fun.

Apologies for length, missus says it's like a slug on a brillo pad.
( Chicken Skin Bag Making pearl necklaces since, Fri 4 Nov 2005, 14:20, Reply)

Shampoo and side burns
I also came up with a cracking idea. Put petrol into a shampoo bottle (washing up bottles are good too) and draw pretty patterns on the grass before joing them to the fire.

This was great until one of my trails went over one of the 'hard kid's trainers.

oops, run away.

Aerosol cans on fires are fun too.

I'm surprised we all still have our limbs.
(Steve_LF, Fri 4 Nov 2005, 14:17, Reply)

fiery grandma
my grandma, god rest her soul, wasn't so keen on the old gits home for the senile that my parents had to put her in after she put an electric kettle on the hob whilst babysitting me and my little sister.

so once in the home, her anarchic antics included slinging a cup of wee at Douglas Hurd on an official visit, playing dead in her bed every morning for a fortnight, only to then sit bolt upright with a deafening scream when the nurse tapped her on the shoulder to see if she was alive, and telling my parents that she was raped 120 times in one week by the care manager (who was plainly gay when you met him).

But the best had to be her deft use of various cosmetics, blanket and chairleg to create a torch that lit her path as she ran through the home at four am one winter's morning. security were forced to let her out lest she burned the place down, and before the police could get hold of her she'd made it down to the beachfront (home was in Swanage) and thrown it through the window of a games arcade.

there was no need to ask granny why she'd thrown the torch into the gambling mecca, for she was quick to provide a justification.

'don't like them places'. and that was all she'd say on the matter.

made the papers and everything.
(bossypops, Fri 4 Nov 2005, 14:16, Reply)

Fire - Walk with me
So many fires! So many tales!

Every year we would build our own fire for Nov 5th by cutting down the local trees. Each night we would have a small camp fire to 'Guard' our main fire. One of us decided that petrol would indeed be a good accelerant and proceeded to syphon it out of his Dad's outboard motor into a glass jar. A couple of hours later, it was time to pour it onto the fire.

Did I say pour? Yup and very slowly too!

Cue the flame climbing from the fire into the jar very quickly and said jar being dropped like a hot potato. Now we have burning petrol spread around the grass near the drop zone.

Cue a few people thinking it would be a good idea to stamp the fire out. Now their trainers are on fire too.

I wasn't much use as I was maniacally laughing by now.
(Steve_LF, Fri 4 Nov 2005, 14:13, Reply)

Indoor Fireworks
Not exactly a story, more a couple of tips for upper-middle-class pyromaniacs: if you have an Aga, there are two fun things you can do.

1. Turn of all the lights (this works best at night, of course) and sprinkle a small pinch of flowers of sulphur onto the hotplate. Lovely blue sparks, but don't do it for too long or the resulting SO2 kills you.

2. Hold the hotplate lid just slightly open, and throw half a teaspoon of sugar underneath and slam it down to contain the smoke. After a second or so, open it up. Whoomph. The resulting mild backdraft will raise the lid a couple of centimetres as the smoke catches fire.

Of course, kids, don't do this at home. Drag your Aga out into the middle of a field.
( Amish Information Systems hates misplaced, commas, Fri 4 Nov 2005, 14:01, Reply)

Is there a Statute of Limitations in the UK?
Many years (20+) ago a couple of friends and myself were playing in a ditch (Immingham B3tans represent!) just after the corn had been harvested, so there was a crapload of straw available for anyone who wanted it. We filled the ditch with straw and jumped up and down on it a bit and all sorts.

Somewhere along the line we graduated to setting fire to bits of it and watching it float down the ditch until it sank and went out. For a laugh I lit a piece and threw it under my mates arse (we were squatting down so as not to be seen) thinking it would be funny..

Naturally it caught, and started spreading. We tried to stamp it out for a few seconds but it spread along about 100 yards of this bank, burning everything in its path. We legged it along the ditch (keeping out of sight) and emerged further up just as the fire engines arrived.

My mum found out about this a year or so ago - she thought it was hilarious.
( Biggus Dickus , it was like that when I found it, Fri 4 Nov 2005, 14:00, Reply)

Mind your backs!
During my time at university, we were doing what most students do, watching Countdown and relaxing after a hard day in the library* (*see union bar)

It was during the Countdown Conundrum when behind us we heard a very loud WHOOSH! One of my flatmates - Matt - enjoyed deep fat frying his own chips and had inadvertantly left the hob on with a saucepan (full of vegetable fat) on top of it.

Somehow, whilst seeing this I remembered something of a fire talk we had and went to try and tackle the 2ft high flames coming from the pan. I had a fire blanket ready to put on top of the blaze, when all of a sudden, I hear the Words "MIND YOUR BACKS!"

My Irish mate Paul, then comes running into the kitchen with the fire extinguisher from the hall. He then unloads the said extinguisher into the pan.

Now, bearing in mind that I'm right next to the cooker and the fire extinguisher he has is a water one, I think i am extremely lucky not to be looking like a survivor from the Falklands.

The next thing I see is huge fireball rising out of the pan and scorching the ceiling within about a 2m radius.
The result of this fire-safety faux-pas was that my eyebrows only managed to get slightly singed and the rest of the flats being eveloped by a toxic black cloud smelling ever-so slightly of over-cooked potatoes
(DaveTheSquealer, Fri 4 Nov 2005, 13:58, Reply)

Fun at uni
Old uni mate Robbo used to enjoy pouring water under my bedroom door to soak the carpet.

I used to poke the nozel of a can of WD40 through his bedroom door key hole, apply fire and squirt.

Used to set his dressing gown (hanging on back of bedroom door) on fire.

How we laughed and laughed at the thought of him just settling of to sleep to get a jet of flame come shooting through the door in to a nice dark bedroom.

Made his girlfriend cry though.
(Tim K, Fri 4 Nov 2005, 13:47, Reply)

Nutter ex
Went out with a lass (good looking she was too), but over the course of our relationship, even though she started off a sane as the next man, the next man it turned out, was Hannibal Lecter.

To cut a very long story short ......
Holiday in Turkey.
She feels rebelious.
Cigarette in barn of dry hay.
Cigarette starts small fire.
She tries to put out fire with more dry hay (Stupid bastard).
All hell breaks loose.
She never told anyone.
Now I've put it on the web.
Naomi Clarke.
She also poisoned her sister with bleach and electrocuted her younger brother with a fork and a handy plug socket.
And stabbed her Mum with a pen.
She did start normal honest.
(Tim K, Fri 4 Nov 2005, 13:43, Reply)

Matches.
I was down the pub the other day and the conversation turend to favorite child hood toys. My mates had lego, barbie, toy cars, and another barbie. My favorite childhood toy?

Matches.

I have loved fire all my life, and now I allways carry a lighter around with me even though i dont smoke.
( willenium Fist bump for verification, Fri 4 Nov 2005, 13:32, Reply)

Flamethrowers!
my favorite game as kid was flamethrowers.
to play you need
1x gas oven
1x kettle
2x steel bollocks

basicly you put the kettle on top of the gas hob, so the gas cant dissipate, then see how long you can wait before you press the igntion switch.

score 1pt for evry inch the flames extend from the base of the kettle, 10pts for evry item set on fire.

my best score was 28 (18inches of flame + one burning teatowel).
( willenium Fist bump for verification, Fri 4 Nov 2005, 13:29, Reply)

Fire
On moving into a rented house i found that the garage had been filled to the rafters by the previous tennants with wood. Firewood, tree prunings, and at least 4 years worth of x-mas trees.

After getting the ok from the letting agency and the fire brigade, i decided to remove the wood with a series of small fires. I am a dedicated pyro, and was able to keep them under control and fairly smoke free. However my paranoid cunt neighbors made so meny complaints to the letting agency, this resulted.

Them- "no more fires were sick of these complaints"
Me-"ok, just clear out the garage for me then"
Them-"ok"

Two days later I came home in the afternoon to find the whole street surrounded in Thick punget smoke. The workmen who came to clean out the garage had built a massive bonfire , about the size of the whole back garden in the middle of the day and burnt the rest of the garage's contents in one go.

complain about that you winging cunts!!

edit: i still cant use the garage as some cunt keeps parking in front of it.
( willenium Fist bump for verification, Fri 4 Nov 2005, 13:22, Reply)

I'd just split up with my wife.
I'd lost my house, was living in a friends spare room with my clothes in bin bags. The only thing I had was a half decent car.

The cunting thing caught fire while I was on the M11.

Bad week.
(Cane: I love Sushi, Sobriety & Shotokan, Fri 4 Nov 2005, 13:14, Reply)

fiery hand
Long time ago, when doing things like this seemed like a good idea...

I was at a party, about 15 or 16 years old, and decided to tip lighter fluid on my hand and set fire to it, as you do.

Due to being a bit pissed, and it being a bit dark, totally over-estimate the amount of fluid needed. Set it alight, to impressive effect. My hand turned into a fireball. "ooh"s and "aah"s all round.

After a few seconds, I notice the burning sensation, and wave it about to put it out. Like I said, too much fluid, and it doesn't go out, so dive onto the floor to smother it. Unfortunatly, the floor was carpetted, and as I slid over the floor, my blistered and charred skin was stripped off my hand.

Not wishing to cause a fuss (or look too stupid), I wrap my hand in a wet cloth, and continue drinking. Pain does not subside, and eventually go to A&E to get it seen.

Result: 3rd degree burns over most of my hand, lost about 80% of my skin. Lots of morphine and a friend with a broken hand 'cos I had been squeezing it as they cut all the skin off.
(buggerlugs fold staple mutilate, Fri 4 Nov 2005, 13:13, Reply)

A few months ago
My computer was giving me some problems and my hard drive was making a sort of chugging sound, so I decided to have a butchers - I'm not I.T trained or anything, but I'm fairly savvy when it comes to computers so I decided to actually have my hard drive apart and see if I could fix it. I found what I thought the problem was, sorted it and put it back together, then reattached it to my PC and fired it up. I don't know what I did wrong, but the electronic components on the exposed part of the board began to glow red hot and there was a distinct smell of burning. So what did I do? Well I touched it of course ... and burned my finger something terrible. Really, it was awful. The thing seared my skin, like I'd been branded or something. Then the glowing things made a popping noise and burst into flames, at which I panicked, ripped the thing out and slung it into the sink.

My housemate found it hilarious, of course.
(painreliever Lurker extraordinaire, Fri 4 Nov 2005, 13:07, Reply)

My friend seems to be a magnet for bad luck
She once accidentally burned her house down.

My mum hides the matches when she comes round.
( Pachey, Fri 4 Nov 2005, 13:03, Reply)

a local friend and fellow b3tan
whom, i am unsure, may read this (and finally get round to getting round) told me he fancied making thermite (burns at 3 trillion degrees and is used for welding train tracks together). so, with sponsorship by me, did procure the makings and produced the wonderful insanely illegal incendry. although the first few experiments were a damp squib the first time we used a decent amount we lit the surrounding nightime quarry like it was daylight. saw stars for ages after. it was, like, so very very coool! somewhere is hidden the ingredients. we have lots left :)

i found what looks like a sealed coldwar bunker recently. with a big padlock. hmmm... how could we get that open ;)
(unlawful odour i dunno..., Fri 4 Nov 2005, 13:01, Reply)

Stolen Chemicals
A mate told me this story: whilst at Uni, he had a habit of stealing certain chemicals, which he used to store in the garden shed, without labels. One day, during a tidy out, his tad came across a dark brown bottle full of "stuff", which he thought was junk and flushed it down the toilet.

The bottle contained sodium. Woof.
(Wrecked Tums, Fri 4 Nov 2005, 12:53, Reply)

absent minded
There are times when i think I multitask worse than Windows 3.1.

In the past few years I've absent-mindedly exploded or burnt:

a grape (In the microwave.)

a frozen banana (Microwave, midnight - seemed like a good idea. As had freezing it to begin with.)

Brisbane water (Stovetop, in a saucepan. Anyone who's drunk Brisbane's delightful brew has tasted its mineral tang; boil it dry long enough, and you'll find out it's flammable, too!)

But in all these I'm surpassed by my mum, who prides herself on her pragmatism, but managed to leave her favourite cookbook on the hot ceramic cooktop until it worked up a good smoulder. She burnt off all the best bits! Smelt good, though...
(sesquipedeviant, Fri 4 Nov 2005, 12:52, Reply)

An 11 year old chav
had been terrorising my parents' neighbourhood for months, attacking elderly residents and stealing anything not nailed down...

One day in August he broke into my parents' back yard, found the petrol can my dad uses to fill his mower (which has also been stolen numerous times by the local yobs, amongst other things he relies on to make an honest bob) and set fire to the nearest tarpaulin.

Having neglected to notice the large trees towering over him as he pursued his pyro-fix, I can only imagine the look on his chavvy little face as the whole shebang caught alight (my parents' land comprises the remains of an orchard - what's left from the thieving council and greedy farmers). Unfortunately he managed to do a runner before his shell suit could melt and scar him for life, leaving my 60-odd-year-old parents to deal with the aftermath.

An eye for an eye I say, I'd happily torch the little...
(spacecowgirl, Fri 4 Nov 2005, 12:35, Reply)

A mate of mine...
...when I was growing up named Bob, for that (really) was his name, was a total pyro and found like-minded company for that action with some dog-on-a-string-type lad named Gaz. We used to hang out by this stagnant pond at the side of an industrial estate that included a massive pallet storage area, about 80 yards to a side with some stacks, well, stacked very high indeed. We used to nick a pallet or two for a fire to get stoned by, doing the usual adolescent lads with a bonfire things - jump though it (awarding points for style), put aerosol cans/asbestos/satellite dishes of people we disliked on it etc.

One night when I wasn't present, Bob and Gaz decided that it might be fun to try setting the pallet storage itself alight, so they did. The flames could be seen for miles, tens of thousands of pounds worth of pallets were destroyed, nearby industrial units were damaged and so on - no-one got hurt though. The nee-naws were there for hours trying to put it out. It even made the local paper that week, where it appealed for anyone who knew about it to come forward. I remember Gaz kept the cutting from the paper.

Sadly, the last I heard Bob is a homeless alcoholic and as for Gaz, I havent heard anything of him for more than a decade - wouldn't put it past him to join some sort of survivalist cult - he was a bit of a nutter.
(thatblokeoverthere not quite as much an arsehole as I thought, Fri 4 Nov 2005, 12:30, Reply)

Sorry that it's not my story
but it happened to a friend who was a touch daft when it comes to all things automotive. Driving home from Norwich he notices that smoke is coming from under his bonnet. He realised that the engine was on fire so did the sensible thing of accelerating "because that would blow the fire out". Once the smoke had gotten so thick he couldn't see he realises that this isn't doing the trick and pulls into a layby. Opens the bonnet and, of course, the flames shoot up.

This is in the days before mobiles were commonplace so he's lucky that there's a telephone box in the layby. He runs to the box and calls the AA after taking time to find his membership card. "Hello", he says to the operator, "my car's on fire". The operator advises him to call the fire brigade. He hangs up but before calling the brigade goes back to look at the car. The fire's almost out so he calls the AA back, explains that the fire has gone out and asks if they would send a van out to get him.

Turns out he'd left the oil filler cap off after topping up the oil and it'd splashed out over the exhaust manifold. Burnt out all the wiring and radiator plumbing.
( S tr app y, Fri 4 Nov 2005, 12:28, Reply)

During basic training
one boring Sunday after cleaning the barrack room, a fellow trainee felt the need to try and light a fart.
Cue 3ft jet of blue flame from his rear, quickly followed by kecks in flames and daft bastard running screaming through the block with his boxers alight.
Could have been worse; the floor was covered in freshly-polished incredibly flammable wax.
( uncle bastard is twanging a dan moi, Fri 4 Nov 2005, 12:24, Reply)

Fun with Gas
We used to light the gas taps in science lessons at high school, excellent fun watching lit gas shoot across the room like a jet engine!

It doesn't dawn on you at thirteen years of age, until you've had a huge bollocking, how close you've actually come to causing a massive gas explosion that would have wiped out four floors of the school and about 500 kids and teachers!

Ah well, it was fun while it lasted.
(El Cabron, Fri 4 Nov 2005, 12:23, Reply)

I set me dads knickers on fire. In a mate's parents' microwave.
My idea for his b-day pressie - him being a huge fan of the Game of Furry Yellow Balls - was a pair of knickers with tennis balls on the spot where... you get the idea.

It was his big day, I was running late and had painted two nice tennis balls on said undergarnment at a mate's parents place. the fabric paint just would not dry. so i put it in the microwave and went for a piss (or wank, can't remember).

Came back 2 minutes (could still be a wank - I was 17 then) later and the pants were on fire. actually no biggie, apart from the wasted and unusable present, but unfortunately the microwave was pitch black with soot on the inside.

And this is where my luck comes in: my mate's parents are both blind. I told him, but not them. They did not find out until their carer saw it. They blamed her. Woo!
( bierbelly, Fri 4 Nov 2005, 12:21, Reply)

bushfires
Another Australian bushfire story, this time just outside Canberra in about 2000...

The capital territory was having one of the worst seasons for bushfires in living memory, and as a result people were being evacuated from their homes in the middle of the night, grabbing whatever they could before the fires hit..

So my sister (hi Jills), with her then cnut of a boyfriend, get the call to evacuate, and are told to be out in half an hour, as a 30ft wall of flame is heading towards their property.

So my sister grabs some photos, a few personal items and nothing too bulky or heavy as she only has a little car, and she isnt the most material girl in the world. She then grabs a spare pair of clothes and runs out the front to pack the car.

When she gets there she finds her man has decided to fill the car with his collection of brass instruments (he used to run an instrument repair shop )/..... saxophones, trumpets etc. with little room for anything else and the back of the Daihatsu scaping the asphalt,,

All of these things were insured, btw, and not even of any real sentimental value..

Jills. You did the right thing leaving his ass, and your new hubby is a top bloke.



classic stories this week, by the way.. I havent laughed so much in ages.


rgrds
(uptonogood, Fri 4 Nov 2005, 12:19, Reply)

It's always been burning since the world's been turning
Now then. I'm a smoker (piss off, quit when I want to, you're more than welcome for the FREE nicotine you get from my 2nd hand smoke etc). I'm also the clumsiest person I've ever known, met, made love to (masturbation can be loving) or seen at a distance. fire and I know each other quite well. So, for you dear, dear g33ks, a veritable selection box of the flammable, inflammable and generally rather warm...

1. Cats. Fuzzy ones. In particular, a cat called Simba who once tried to lick up a drop of superglue. My mum loves candles- loves them; and it would seem Simba loved all the places candles were. Simba (god rest his soul- he didn't die of fire though) set his tail, mainly, on fire at least once a week, never showed any sign of interest, pain or 'hmm, what's that burning fur smell, mum?'.

2. Similar story, but involving me and the hair on my head, not my tail. An amorous evening of wine, women (well, me) and song (hifi) was brough to an abrupt end by the smell of burning hair. An acrid cloud of the stuff enveloped both myself and the lad I was being impaled by. we looked, we saw, we screamed and blew out the candle. Leaving me smouldering in the bad way in the dark in the nude. My waist length hair was about 8 inches shorter on one side, I have a few scars on my upper arm to this day and I now don't stick my head next to church candles, regardless of how much fun I'm having.

3. Viking burials. For house spiders. About two years ago, with my ex, we had found a house spider in our... you've guessed it, HOUSE. He was huge. Well, she was huge. Massive. seriously. With legs she was about 4 inches in diameter. I was in love, her name was Parker, and she was beautiful. when she died, gawd bless her, she received a viking service- we put her curled up little body on a pile of matches on top of a bit of that polystyrene circle thing you get with shop bought pizzas. we floated her on a bowl of water, set it all on fire and filled the kitchen with the most god awful stench imaginable.

4. I know one of the idiots that attempted arson on the bomber from Aylesbury who did the London bombings. Fucking idiot used diesel.

S'enough for now. Apologies for length, I've bought some cream for it.
( Captain Wow currently being a cunt in Infamous, Fri 4 Nov 2005, 12:17, Reply)

Good Fire Bad Fire
16 years old, a mixture in a big can of all the liquids I could find in the garage. Stand back and throw matches. Went up nicely. Put water on it to kill it, the fire really went off and began licking the floor boards underneath mums house. Major panic allayed until I put a towel over it. Unable to explain scorch marks to mum, but somehow got out of it by telling her she was lucky I put it out. Several years later full of Victoria Bitter and in a moment of epiphany I knelt in the embers of a campfire and scorched the knees of my nylon adidas trackies into my skin. Last year I set fire to the downstairs telly because I wanted a new one for the rugby league season and the only way was to have mr insurance man shout me one. Unsure as to whether I had done a good enough job to convince the assessor I set fire to it another 2 times that night. It worked. That extinguisher shit makes a mess though.
(rodgerroop, Fri 4 Nov 2005, 11:58, Reply)

fire!
you cannot burn a £5 note.
( GTA, Fri 4 Nov 2005, 11:48, Reply)

Not mine but classic....
2 retards from my home town (a place just North of London in Hertfordshire) decided it'd be a great idea to fill up 2 large florescent tubes (you know the long thin ones you get in school/work place lights) with petrol and light the tops so they could play Jedi!
The guy smacked his 'sabre' against his female mates one.

Both suffered 3rd degree burns to their bodies and ended up in intensive care for a few months, and they say people from the south WEST are inbred!

This bears no relation to my earlier napalm story by the way, my mates are retarded but not THAT retarded!!
(Xyphious : Sinkin' Gin since '85, Fri 4 Nov 2005, 11:37, Reply)