For some of you long time readers or those who have back read my archives far enough. This story should be pretty familiar for you since I originally wrote it up on here when it first happened.

Originally I was going to do a social commentary on politics and pop culture, but I was specifically requested by the host to write up this story so he could read it on the air.

So with out further ado, here is that �editorial.�

The say the road to Hell is paved with the best of intentions. I say the back door to Hell is paved with blatant stupidity usually reserved for blooper reels and party jokes.

I�d like to be able to say I am not one of the pavers of said road, but then I would be lying. I am what you call one of the �freaky weird bad luck� kinds of people. If something strange can happen to someone it more then likely has or will happen to me. I am a walking slap stick comedy routine waiting to happen. For me it�s embarrassing, inconvenient, and a pain in the ass. For others it�s a reason to have a box of popcorn and some Milk Duds handy when I�m around. A show is bound to happen and entertainment for all is the bill for this show.

What, you don�t believe me when I say this?

Ah in the immortal words of that long eared profit, Bugs Bunny, �They don�t know me very well, do they?�

Let me just give you an example shall I? Something that will prove beyond a shadow of a doubt that I am cursed with freaky bad luck meant to entertain others.

This happened roughly a year ago in my own home. A place statistically speaking the majority of all accidents happens to people.

Boy did they ever get that one right when talking about me.

I was watching television with a friend and holding some conversation with him at the same time. Seeing as that night�s events over shadows everything else that day I can not recall what exactly we where talking about or what we where watching. This is not really relevant to the story at hand.

As I�m talking to my friend while trying to keep up with the plot of the show I realized my Zippo was out of fluid. Carrying on with the conversation I proceeded to open up my lighter, slip out its core, and flip it upside down in its case so I can fill it up.

In hindsight I should have been paying more attention to filling up my lighter then anything else. Then I would have been aware that I was over filling my lighter considerably. Fluid over flowed from the guts, down the Zippo�s case, and over my left hand. I quickly closed up the can of lighter fluid and, having no where else to place it, put it between my legs on the chair. I then put the lighter back together so I could spark it up and burn off excess fluid.

Yes I know what you are thinking. Didn�t you notice your left hand was wet? Didn�t you notice how slick the outside of the lighter was? Where you high?

And my answer to those questions is no, no, and god I wish I had that as an excuse for this.

So I�m gabbing away with my friend when I spark the flint of the lighter which I�m holding in my right hand.

POOF!

The lighter goes up in a big ball of brilliant blue flames. The initial blast of fire was so big that the flames reached out and just licked my left hand. This was substantial enough to light all the fluid on that hand.

So there I am sitting there in my chair, right hand clutching a lighter aka ball of fire and my left hand engulfed in flames.

At this time I�d like to proudly announce that I did not once drop a load or piss my pants through out this. Then again it happened so fast I might have stunned my bladder and bowls just long enough to keep them from reacting to my stupidity.

Now I�m panicked and I look over at my friend for some kind of help. None was to be found there, just a look of wide eyed shock and a hint of �I�m glad I�m not you� in his eyes.

My first reaction after the shock, slap the hell out of the arm of my chair with my left hand. I figure I can smother the flames by doing this. With each violent shake of my body I was jarring the can of lighter fluid until it finally tumbled from my lap onto the floor below.

Just as I�m getting the flames of my left hand out it dawns on me. I�m still holding a lighter covered in flames in my right hand.

If I could take back my initial reaction to this realization I would gladly do so. Instead I go with my first instinct which is to drop the lighter to move the flame away from my hand.

With clarity only seen in movies when the film is slowed down, I watched that lighter fall out of my right hand. And right on top of the can of lighter fluid lying on the floor. You would think it would bounce since it had a distance to fall, wouldn�t you?

Did I mention I have freaky weird bad luck?

Because not only did it not bounce, but it landed right on top of the can of lighter fluid and just stayed there.

Panic turning to terror I kicked out at the can of lighter fluid, separating a highly volatile can of liquid from the ball of flame that was my Zippo. So I just managed to keep from creating an explosion from between my legs that would guarantee I wouldn�t see a dime of my deposit let alone the prospects of ending any kind of procreation abilities by me. The problem is the lighter is still on flames and is now sitting on my carpeting.

This is where I truly wished I drank more water. Then maybe there would have been a glass of it near by that I could dump on top of the flaming lighter.

No such luck like that. We are trapped into the �Freaky weird luck zone.�

I realize I�m going to have to sacrifice my hands yet again to keep from burning a hole in my carpeting. So doing my best juggling act I pick up the lighter and bobble it from hand to hand as I run to the bathroom.

I drop the lighter into the bathroom sink and crank both the hot and cold faucets to max. I�m drowning this bastard blue flaming ball.

Drip, drip, drip.

Opened up all the way that is all I get from my sink. Three measly drips of water that don�t even cool off the lighter let alone put out the flames.

Oh yes, that is right. I have had a serious calcium build in all the pipes in my bathroom thus cutting off the water pressure to practically nothing.

I�m starting to think I�m never going to put out these flames!

Luckily my bathtub wasn�t nearly as bad as my sink and at fully opened I at least got a tiny drizzle going on. A fact that made bath time oh so much fun since it took roughly four hours to fill the tub then.

But that didn�t matter right now. I only needed a hand full of water to put out this fire hazard. So I run over to the bathtub, crank open the faucets, then fill up my cupped hands with water. Racing back over to the sink I dropped the water on top of the water.

Problem is I didn�t take in forward momentum into my calculations when dropping the water. And I was moving pretty fast.

SPLASH!

The pool of water splashes just above the lighter, missing the flames completely.

I had never felt more like Jerry Lewis in my life then at that very moment.

So once again I�m at the bath tub, hands cupped together, waiting as patiently as I can for the tiny stream to give me a decent sized pool of water. This time I stopped before dumping the water on the lighter so I wouldn�t miss it. Finally the Zippo was out and everything was just fine.

Wait, not quite fine because I have burning sensation in my ha�

I watched my hands turn from normal to blistering red, water blisters popping up every where. My god did that ever sting so badly. I would have started crying from the pain, but the sudden hyena like cackling from the living room hardened my resolve to remain strong.

See as any truly good friend knows. When a friend is in pain and suffering, life balancing on the brink, you stand strong for them and comfort them the best you can. The minute you know they are alright. Laugh your god damn ass off because stupidity like that just can not be ignored.

Three days solid this guy was laughing at me setting myself on fire. He would remember the look on my face when I looked at him when I first set my hands on fire and he would be keeled over with belly shaking laughter. I would say he suffered as much pain from laughing as I did by burning my hands.

But I�m not going to say that because he was very lucky I was in to much pain at the time to put my foot in his ass.

For a week or two after that my hands remained bandaged to protect the burns. I had so many bandages on my hands I looked like the hand stunt double for the next Mummy movie.

My love life was ruined for that period of time also.

They say the road to Hell is paved with the best of intentions. And today I have proven the back door is paved with blatant stupidity.

I hate being right sometimes

It's about time - Wednesday, Jul. 07, 2004
An Honor for Chrome - Friday, Feb. 20, 2004
A great loss - Monday, Oct. 20, 2003
a terrible announcement. - Tuesday, Sept. 09, 2003
Chrome speaks: - Friday, Sept. 05, 2003