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Yesterday I was sitting at the kitchen table reading the paper. My grandmother walked in and I looked up, I swear, for half a second to talk to her. When I looked back, the entire top half of my paper was in flames. I had forgotten about the candle on the table and dipped the paper right into it. So I'm holding a paper, Grandma is horrified, I crash into a chair, more flames start blowing out of my hands, there's little black flecks and lots of smoke all over, I'm trying not to burn the placemats or my hair, Grandma gets in my way, I dodge her, crash into a kitchen chair and finally manage to drop the whole lot into the sink. Now there are flames raging out of the sink and I think "oh shit, the dishtowel!", so I throw the almost burning dishtowel out of the way, turn on the water, flames are still going all over and I grab the hose (singed my arm!) and squirted the whole thing out. (Mr. Hayes, thank you for fixing the hose on the sink. I owe you one... oh wait, I already made it up to you later that night! Ahem.) I managed to not get burned really badly, or burn the house down, and when the fire was out, I cracked up. Poor Grandma probably regrets the day she let me move in here.

For your viewing pleasue, I took a picture.


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