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.
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chthonic, Thu 3 Nov 2005, 9:11)
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Grandad!My favourite story about fire is not from the old chemistry classes where one boy used to inhale gas and breath fire, quite successfully, or where we made huge paper bonfires in the middle of the classroom without getting bollocked by the ravingly incompetent teacher, my story comes from the annals of history.
My Grandad fought in the war, dontcha know, and apparently, on the troop ships they used to have, the latrines basically consisted of a load of seats in cubicles situated over a stream of water that carries your effluence out from under you and over the side of the ship. So my Grandad sees the system, and being the ingenious fella he is, goes to the kiddeminster at the top of the flow, the first one, and sets fire to a scrunched up ball of newspaper doused in petrol. This is then dropped down the lavvy, into the stream of shit, and passes along, singing the arse hairs of each soldier, and supremely pissing them off in the process.
But then again, it might be all bollocks. And that's one minute of your life you'll never get back.
(, Fri 4 Nov 2005, 19:07, Reply)
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