science
when i was a young un i was fortunate enough to receive a chemistry kit one christmas. yeah, i know. anyway, i started doing some of the experiments and to be honest they were a bit crappy, so i thought i'd move on to some of the more exciting ones, which involved heating things up over the supplied bunsen burner. however, i couldnt be arsed setting it up, so i just put the tripod over one of the gas rings on the cooker and started heating stuff up on there. all went swimmingly, and when it finished heating i turned off the gas, got out my tongs, and removed the container from the top of the tripod. and then transferred it, using the tongs, directly into my other hand. absolute cocking agony. all the skin was hanging off my fingertips. i was not a happy scientist.
(unciebana It's good, but it's not right., Fri 21 Dec 2007, 15:43, Reply)

A Small Collection of Idiocy
Firstly, on an Army camp a few years ago. Someone else and myself both had knives with us, and decided to have a mock knife fight. Mine was new, and I didn't realise how sharp it was. During the ensuing ruckus, it managed to make it's way through the joint of the other guys knuckle. Apparently if it had been a few millimetres deeper it would have sliced the top of his finger off. I owe that guy, he never dobbed me in, saying instead that he shut the knife on his finger.

Secondly, my parents went away on holiday, leaving me to mind the house. I decided to have a BBQ, and invited my friends round. Unfortunately we lacked firelighters, so Jake decided to use petrol. The huge flames created by this, luckily, didn't do anything more than cause us to swear.

We also have a trampoline in our garden. After a few drinks, Jake decided to jump off the roof of the garage onto it. First time went ok, and bounced a bit. Second time, hit the trampoline and bounced off straight onto the ground. Third time, and a few drinks later, he just fell off the garage roof before jumping.

Somehow he never injured himself!
( mister.f is now married, Fri 21 Dec 2007, 15:38, Reply)

Oh my god....
Picture the scene...childhood best friends wedding...lovely crisp winters day, a very emotional affair. Both myself and said friends brother were single at the time, and after the romance of the event, somehow ended up in bed together. After a rather energetic show of bedroom aerobics I pass out. Sadly the bed is against the wall, next to the radiator. I flake out that side, back to the wall in the early hours on the morning, just as the heating comes on.

Many hours later we awaken, and upon pulling my underwear back on, come across a couple of lumps on my arse which certainly have not been there before. On asking friends brother to have a look, I was somewhat upset to be met with cries of "Oh my god beaker, its massive!" Hoping he is not referring to the size of my derriere, I look meaningfully at him, whilst rubbing strange tender lumps on the buttocks, and he laughingly informs me I have blisters on my arse from the radiator!

Fast forward several hours, and me having to explain to A&E staff how I managed to get burns in that particular area!

Length...about 4 inches long and 1.5 wide...couldn't sit down properly for 10 days!
(beaker77, Fri 21 Dec 2007, 15:32, Reply)

Pea Roast...
from teh QOTW suggestion forum... Yes i am that lazy

Once when i was younger my grandparents lived in one of those old houses with the mahoosive banisters... i used to spend countless hours piling cushions at the bottom and sliding down them squealing with glee...

Until the fateful day i lost my balance, fell off backwards and broke my arm...

Now this is probably not that unusual or stupid, and you may be asking "what the hell is the point of this story?"

Well, the next day, after having a nice plaster cast added to my arm, i decided that as i was bored it would be a great idea to slide down the banister again...

and promptly repeated the accident of the day before and broke the other arm...

Insert comment here about girth, width, length and if you're feeling especially descriptive texture and taste...
(Nuclear Ninja like a radioactive Chuck Norris..., Fri 21 Dec 2007, 15:27, Reply)

Games gone wrong
Not the most exciting story ever, granted, but whilst at school me and my friend were messing around with compasses, holding them and flying them through the air *shooting* each other. In a moment of inspiration I thought to meself - let's shoot his compass out of the air with mine, and proceeded to miss his compass and stab him in the hand instead.

That was pretty dumb.

*Pop!*
(hovishead, Fri 21 Dec 2007, 15:21, Reply)

Bonfire Night, a couple of years ago.
This wasn't particularly clever.

(Sorry for general mobile phone video crapness. And no, it's not a link to goatse or anything.)
(MrC. Having the most boring username on b3ta since 2004, Fri 21 Dec 2007, 15:05, Reply)

Not the stupidest
But this springs to mind. The Leeds Otley run does terrible things to a lightweight. Especially one who is on a mountaineering club Otley Run.

Clicky for piccy
(vibrating tuna, Fri 21 Dec 2007, 15:04, 2 replies)

Woo Woo Woo Woo
I used to work in a warehouse attached to a factory, and we took on some school leavers to perform some basic menial tasks. Because of the noise, we'd had a siren attached to the phone so that we could hear it when it went off.

That's not the dumb bit.

Sitting at the computer doing some records, and my boss wanders over. "Look at Phil - he's going nuts".

Sure enough, every time the siren went off, he'd go very white, glower at the phone, and clearly try to stay calm.

As we watched, the phone rang and the siren kicked in. Phil slammed down the box he was packing, walked over to the siren - and stuck his finger in it.

At first, we were so stunned, we did nothing. The we pissed ourselves laughing. Then we took him to hospital.

Phil learnt an important lesson that day: a siren consists of two metal discs with holes in rotating at different speeds. Put your finger in one, and it tends to slice the top of your finger off. I'm sat here weeping silently as I type this, and this was 13 years ago....

OK, not something I've done to myself, but still very funny.
(Steve The Monkey, Fri 21 Dec 2007, 15:03, Reply)

Van Halen
Real stupid. I went to see Van Halen last night, got home at 3am, got up 2 hours later. I think I'm still drunk.
Ouch. It hurts.
( Batshitmentalist is sane for once, Fri 21 Dec 2007, 14:57, 1 reply)

Copper wire
This was told to me by a friend who's a doctor and who has seen her fair share of injuries. Male readers may find it difficult to read without squinting - and, come to think of it, so will the girls.

A&E units are replete with stories about men who have caught their wangs in the hoover, or girls who've shoved bottles up themselves. That's all par for the course to some extent - though the "I fell over while cleaning and naked" story does try the patience. Someone who is honest about the origin of the injury gets more respect.

So: one evening, a guy gets admitted with injuries to his penis. My friend was on duty and had to take his history. He looked embarrassed, but didn't attempt any bullshit.

He had decided that he would get his jollies by feeding ( - Oh, hell... it's difficult to write this - ) a length of copper wire down his penis.

Feeling uncomfortable yet? It gets better/ worse.

Not content with feeding the wire down, he decided that a warm wire would be better - so he lit a match and held it to the protruding end.

What he hadn't taken into account was the conductivity of copper wire - hence the trip to hospital with burns to the urethra.

It was a long time ago that I was told that story - but it still makes me queasy. Apologies.
( Enzyme is powered by sunlight, Fri 21 Dec 2007, 14:50, 3 replies)

Stapled
Last year I was in a computer lab at school, and I had just finished writing a paper and had printed it out. I reached for my little stapler and when I had it in my hands, I realized it was broken, so I decided to fix it myself, because I needed to staple my papers together for class.

The bit where you put the staples in was separated from the actual stapler shell, and wouldn't fit back in, so I used both my thumbs to push it back while the rest of my hands was pushing forward - and then I stapled myself. Each thumb was positioned over where the two spikes of the staple come out, so I had caught one thumb on either side of one staple. It had gone right through my thumbs.

So after a moment of whimpering and complete bewilderment, I dropped the stapler on the floor, and yanked the staple out with my teeth (my hands being fucking stapled, I couldn't just pull it out). As soon as the staple was free from my flesh, ridiculous amounts of blood shot out of my hands - and so I wiped it all on my pants.

After that, I washed my hands and called my mom collect to tell her what happened. She was proud.
(Arctix, Fri 21 Dec 2007, 14:45, Reply)

A former colleague of mine ...
Earnt himself the nickname 'Gripper' by reaching inside a TV to change the CRT. He'd turned the power off but hadn't discharged the caps.

I leave the rest to your imagination, but apparently the resulting spasm was enough for him to snap the back off the tube!
(Dionysian Aut viam inveniam aut faciam, Fri 21 Dec 2007, 14:44, Reply)

Too many cooks
While pissed up at a party of some recently made aquaintances a few years back, I was doing the nice thing and hlping the 'hostess' out in the kitchen, as were a few others.

Long story short, a drunk woman passed me a baking tray from inside the oven. The oven had only just been turned on (so I thought) and she was holding it with a bare hand. I went to receive it thinking nothing of using the same manner. Apparently, metal doesn't conduct heat as quickly as I thought. While the front of the tray that the woman was holding was moderately warm, the opposite end that I grasped had been sitting above the flames at the back of the oven for a minute or two. I lost about 5 square inches of skin from my palm and the inside of my thumb.

Fucksocks.
(Greencloud Wanted to go fishing on, Fri 21 Dec 2007, 14:28, 1 reply)

Electricity and the curious
When I was a young chap I liked taking things apart to see how they worked. I managed to acquire one of those mechanical time clocks that you can set pins in and it turns stuff off and on whenever you want. The only set of plugs I had in my room was on a 4 gang extension under my desk. So there I am knelt down under the desk peering at this time clock trying to figure out how it works, only I drop one of the small metal screws that was holding it together inside the exposed workings.

"BZZZFFFTTTTTTTWHATTHEGODDAMITARRRRG*BUMP*OWWW"

I'd reached into it to pick up the screw only to realise it was connect to a live pin. 240 volts shot up my arm which spazzed around like Timmy wanting a mars bar at, the same time I'd leapt up banging my head on the under side of the desk giving myself a nasty bump.

The first thought that entered my head after this ordeal wasn’t that I should switch everything off and make safe but “where’s that screw gone?”

"BZZZFFFTTTTTTTWHATTHEGODDAMITARRRRG*BUMP*OWWW"

Yes, I did the exact same thing twice in a row. Never blew the fuse in the extension cord or anything though and never electrocuted myself since.. err.. actually that’s a lie.
\o/
(rarr, Fri 21 Dec 2007, 14:28, 1 reply)

Not me but .......
My introduction to motorcycling was running about across the park on anything from old Lambrettas to Puch Maxis, Yamaha Fizzys etc. In those days garages would sell you petrol in any type of container at all. I remember going and buying petrol in a milk bottle. .... no, really !

Anyway on this ocassion I was put in charge of a bean can half full of petrol. So when my big mate took it off me with a mind to putting a match to it, who was I to object.

So stupid bugger did exactly that and when, as you can imagine the ensuing conflagration very quickly got out of hand he blew hard into the tin to try to blow out the flames. Needless to say his head was engulfed in flames pretty damn short shrift. Luckily there was another even older bloke on hand who quickly smothered the flames with his parka and the summon substance of my mate's injuries was only badly singed hair and no eyebrows or lashes left. (They did grow back though.)

They say that experience is doing stupid things and getting away with them. You don't however need to do them yourself .... I've never since even considered trying to blow out a can of burning petrol.
( Ramsay Tupper, Fri 21 Dec 2007, 14:25, Reply)

Just a mo!
The dumbest thing I've done recently is forgot to wish Happy Christmas to all the B3ta members who give a fuck.

Oh! just done it - silly me.
( girlinthehole, Fri 21 Dec 2007, 14:13, 7 replies)

Self-immolation...
Have you seen the trick whereby you get a gas lighter, you release some gas into the top of a loose fist, light it and open your hand (to make a flash and a "foop")?
Me too... but whist tripping my tits off in my teens, the only thing I had at my disposal was lighter FLUID...
The trick went really well but it didn't end with a "foop"...
My tripping friends were absoletely no help at all and were in fact enjoying the free human torch impersonation.
I ran around a bedsit, waving my burning hand frantically for about 30 seconds and eventually sat on my own hand to suffocate the flames.

You'd think that the blisters and the reddened mit might have taught me a lesson but it was only a week later that I was tripping again and went with my friends to the garage (at about 2 AM) - I didn't want anything so I stayed outside...
About 2 minutes later, my mate came running out of the shop and smacked me very hard in the face.
It turned out that I was leaning against a petrol pump, playing with my lighter.

I don't touch LSD any more but not for the reasons above ;-)

Edit: Er, thanks Legless - yes, LCD is much harder to swallow!
( BubaMan 3 conspiracy nuts walk into a bar... Coincidence?, Fri 21 Dec 2007, 14:01, 1 reply)

Kitchen related stupidity
Back in the days when I worked in a kitchen, my boss told me a tale of caution. Whether it's true or not I can't say, but it certainly stuck in my mind.

A kitchen hand she was working with a few years back was hacking the string from around a joint of beef. With a very sharp knife. Except, instead of placing the knife on the top of the string and pressing down to saw through it, he decided to work the blade under the string and pull it towards him.

The string snapped neatly, but with unexpected ease. The blade continued its trajectory, arcing gracefully in a fluid motion, before burying itself in the stupid bastard's forehead...
( Davros' Granddad a voice of calm reason in a world of spastics., Fri 21 Dec 2007, 13:46, 2 replies)

Warm Stella
Well not exactly warm more boiling hot!

I was working in a pub, and the Stella ran out. So being the one "in charge" for the afternoon, I went to change the barrel. Having removed the empty one, I proceeded to move the full one. Very heavy but movable. Having shaken it up a bit to get it in place, I proceeded to connect it to the system. I plugged the head onto it, but I apparantly didn't get a good fix, because as soon as I tightened the head it exploded all over me. There I was soaked to the skin in wife beater.

So I went upstairs and changed my shirt, but my trousers were still moist, so I spied an iron. So I turned it on and waited. I couldn't be bothered to take my trousers off and ironed away. This turned out to be a bad thing. As the iron touched the wet fabric, it started to steam, who would have guessed that cold wet beer when steaming reached temperatures nearing a sun going super nova.

I had an iron mark on my inner thigh for a couple of weeks.

Interestingly I told everyone in the bar, so being a student studying coastal engineering, I was often asked to show them my groyne. Which I did - often.

Nuff said really.
(B3any_pants, Fri 21 Dec 2007, 13:42, Reply)

DRESSED UP AS YOGI BEARS GIRLFRIEND AND TERRORISED YOUND CHILDREN...
A few years ago when I was on a girlie holiday in Alcudia, Mallorca, I made friends with the kid’s rep.
It was about 10am one morning and was sunbathing on a lounger having been out all night and I was still pretty drunk.

The kid’s rep guy came over flapping and said he had a big problem and would I help him out? I’m a nice kinda girl and like to help in a person’s hour of need if I can.

He explained that he had to do a kids show for the new arrivals and greet them with his girlfriend, Suzy bear, but that Suzy bear hadn’t turned up. All I had to do was put on a bear costume and wave to the kids.

I wasn’t too thrilled at the idea as I was super hung-over/half drunk but I’d said that I would help so I did.

I went to the storeroom, climbed into a massive girl bear costume and stumbled out. It was stinking hot in the bear costume as it was bout 30 degrees outside.

I made my way to the kids reception with `Yogi’ and greeted some children. It was when I started falling over them that I realised just how drunk I still was. They kept hugging me and wanting photos and I was in no fit state at all.

Next up was the main stage. I’m stood on the stage waving as agreed when all of a sudden the YMCA tune came on and I panicked. I am the world’s worst dancer and truly, truly cannot do the YMCA dance. I started to try and failed miserably so I panicked and did one!! I just ran off the stage there and then, took of my suit outside and fled to bed!!

Agreeing to it was such a dumb f*ck thing of me to do in the first place.
I know hate the YMCA even more than ever!!!
( DUMBLONDE is a rubber lover girl, Fri 21 Dec 2007, 13:41, Reply)

Whilst drunk
I missed the last train from Wolverhampton back to Birmingham one Saturday night by mere seconds. Not a problem I thought, I'll get the bus. So I walked up to the bus station and hopped on the bus (79 I think) and it started off towards Birmingham.

I got to the outskirts of West Bromwich town centre when the bus driver announced that instead of going all the way into Birmingham (as on the front of his bus and the info at Wolverhampton bus station) he was terminating in West Brom.

West Bromwich was (and still probably is for all I know) not the kind of place you want to willingly ever go to. So being stranded there at midnight several miles from your actual destination is not a pleasant thought by any stretch of the imagination.

God knows what it was, possibly the inner student within me coming out, but I decided that I would take my life in my hands and WALK it to Birmingham from the centre of West Bromwich. I thought that as the Metro line ran from by the town centre through to Birmingham then I would loosely follow that and I'd be there in no time at all.

My plan of following the metro line was soon forgotten in my drink addled state, and I tried to walk in what I thought was a south easterly direction. I got so far and stopped. I eventually rung for a taxi and got home at 2am.

I have since found out that I did in fact almost walk in a complete circle.

No apologies for length - I covered 3 miles in 1 hour.
(Prawn, Fri 21 Dec 2007, 13:40, Reply)

Electric car windows and fingers
You know how lifts have these sensors to stop the doors shutting on you and slicing you in half*?

Electric car windows most certainly do not have said sensors and will munch fingers with a vengeance.

*actual amount of slicing in half may vary
(pineappleunderthesea mortal enemy of the apple since, Fri 21 Dec 2007, 13:38, 1 reply)

Boom.
When I was a kid, about 10 or so, I took a day off school, playing sick.
We had coal fires in the house and I was a right little pyromaniac. The fire had died down, my parents were out and I knew there was a can of petrol in the shed at the bottom of the garden.
I got a empty milk bottle, filled it with petrol and poured it on the still glowing embers of the fire.
The petrol vapourised and filled up the hearth with what looked like white smoke.
I should have fucked the whole idea off at this point, but I didn't. I stood six foot back and chucked a lit match at the fire.

The kitchen exploded and I got into loads of trouble. Looked cool though...
(mutley, Fri 21 Dec 2007, 13:37, Reply)

What's sloppy and loud?
I once arrived for a shift at work in a restaurant were a large number of my friends worked. We were always doing stupid stuff to amuse ourselves, but I unintentionally outdid myself one day.

Walking into the staffroom, which was quite busy, I started getting ready for work next to an iron and ironing board - there for sorting uniform out before a shift.

My mobile phone started ringing. I quickly glanced at the plug of the iron - unplugged. So, "hilariously", I answered the iron instead.

Feeling searing heat on my face, I'd forgotten to consider the possibility that someone *might* have been using the iron before I walked into the room and then unplugged it - as we were supposed to. Apparently I screamed like girl. One who was having her face burnt off, presumably.

It was fortunately not hot enough to do leave me looking like Simon Weston, so I didn't require medical attention, but just hot enough to leave an angry red square, complete with steam holes, across the side of my face for a good few days.

I'd love to say my colleagues came up with a witty and cutting nickname for me during this period of my life, but I was just referred to as "twat" until the mark had gone.
(Sloppy Giuseppe, Fri 21 Dec 2007, 13:36, 2 replies)

once at work party....
One company where I worked had just finished a roll-out of new hardware and software across the estate, and to celebrate there was an all expenses paid night out in Dorking. I being based in Bristol got a lift up with 2 of the trainers. We dumped our stuff into the hotel rooms and hit the bars! We turned up fashionably late to the party and quickly made our way to the free bar and proceeded to order drink after drink. Dancing ensued, food got thrown and I managed to spill a large glass of red wine all down my colleagues new silk shirt (oopsie, sorry Graham). Anyway, queue time to get back to the hotel room, I was in too much of a state to find anyone else so spent a good hour ringing round taxi Cos to get there. Eventually i got there and went to my room, got undressed, used the bathroom and laid on the bed. at some point I had become naked I decided to see if anyone else was back yet, so left my room, door slamming behind me... when I realised no one else was about, I found I couldn’t get back into my room as I had forgotten the cardkey thing that opens the door, so being naked and keyless I wander down to reception to try and get a spare, passing some elderly couples on my way who gave the odd remark. Eventually I turn up at reception and they refuse to help me as I am naked and pi$$ed, so catch 22, no clothes, naked, locked our of room, reception won't help me without clothes on. So I wander around the hotel until I find a laundry room, find a sheet / duvet cover wrap myself up in and head back to reception who shyly hand over a spare key. I eventually get back to my room and crash out, next morning I am woken by my Bristol based pals who inform me I have missed breakfast and we are about to leave, I quickly dress, stuff all of crap into my bag and join the queue of hung-over work mates to check out, getting some funny looks from them, the hotel staff and some of the paying guess, totally unaware of why.

When back in the car and safely on the motorway, the project manager called Ali who was driving, she put it on speaker and he began to repeat what the hotel staff and told him about my naked antics, I went bright red and slunk into the back seat... as you can imagine, it didn't take long for the whole company to find out and various rumours, nicknames etc were email to me non-stop for weeks.

I can see the funny side, I always seem to end up taking my clothes off when a bit worse for wear.

Length? not that long, it was a cold night!
(wireless_tommer, Fri 21 Dec 2007, 13:32, Reply)

Sun and Beer
Luckily not me, but whilst on holiday in Turkey many many years ago we were sitting outside in the baking hot sun enjoying a nice cool beer.

On a table a short distance away from us were another group of holiday makers also enjoying the sun and a beer. One of the guys had left his lighter on the table in the full heat of the sun (it really was very very hot and midday, mad dogs and englishment and all that).

He goes to light up a cigarette and BANG lighter goes up in his face. The metal end of the lighter flies off cutting through the side of his face.

His reaction was to stand up shouting "WHO DID THAT, WHAT FF'IN JOKER DID THAT", until the waiter came over and said with a calm voice "You did sir, you left your lighter out in the sun".

Nobody was sure if they should laugh at the idiot or think of how close he came to losing an eye.

I Laughed (too loudly as it happened).
(Opanoid Look sweats dripping off them, Fri 21 Dec 2007, 13:29, Reply)

Stupid thing to say
In my mid teens, I discovered that you shouldn't use the phrase "Go on then, I fucking dare you" as a response to "I'm gonna fucking twat you one in the fucking face!". It's a fairly dumb thing to say to a mate who has a history of violence.
(ScousersPet, Fri 21 Dec 2007, 13:27, Reply)

Two for one
Some people on here may think that I would consider getting married to my ex as being the dumbest thing I ever did.

It wasn’t. For the most part we were very happy. No, the dumbest thing (in retrospect) was probably not filing for divorce as soon as I found out she’d been playing away from home. At the time I had my reasons, but realise now that sometimes you have to put your own mental well-being first and not worry about upsetting anyone else in the process (my mother in law was terminally ill at the time and I didn’t want to cause any additional stress and grief, as I genuinely liked the woman – one of the truly nice people in life).

However, the second dumbest thing was probably taking a job for the sole reason that it was a promotion, and therefore better money. I’d been passed over for a promotion whilst a DSS monkey (this was despite already doing the job anyway on a temporary promotion basis), and so decided enough was enough. I applied for a post with the Jobcentre, which was also a promotion, and actually better money than the one I’d been passed over for, and got the job. However, about 2 weeks into the job I realised that I’d made a horrendous mistake. I then spent the best part of the next 3 years trying to get out, whilst being shunted into ever-more crappy roles within the organisation.

It was my home life that kept me sane during that period – I frequently felt like pulling into a layby on the way to work and staying there until home time. Finally, I secured a really nice job, and handed in my notice with glee – I couldn’t wait to get out. I finally had a job that I was extremely happy in, and getting up on a Monday morning no longer filled me with dread. One thing I learned is that I'll never take a job purely for the money ever again. Money is a factor, but I'd rather do a job I enjoy for a modest wage than earn mega-bucks for doing something I loathe with a passion.

Ironically, about 9 months into the new job my marriage went tits up and my mental state did pretty much the same for a while. *EDIT* Meant to say that I'd gone from having a shit job but a contented homelife, to having a fantastic job and a shit homelife. Ah well.

Ying and yang?
( Davros' Granddad a voice of calm reason in a world of spastics., Fri 21 Dec 2007, 13:23, 2 replies)

Big girls blouse is a big brave girl
Years ago I had the misfortune to burn the top of my foot with an iron quite badly - can't remember how.
After surveying the damage it didn't look too bad although it hurt quite a bit. Unfortunatly burns don't look too bad at first but after a while they tend to fester and bubble up and blister and look quite disgusting.

Dumbest thing was I didn't bother to go to the hospital to have it checked out. Just let it heal by itself, thought I. Lots of air and It will soon mend. Nope! did it buggery. Two whole weeks I was on the bed with a foot that looked like it was made of melting wax. I would poke it now and then and play with the festering skin and stare at it in horror and fascination. I wasn't working so I had lots of time to dwell on my wound and contemplate the nature of burnt flesh. Suffice to say It eventually healed but it looked like shit for ages and hurt for far longer than it could have done.

Ah well! when your on the dole any excitment is welcomed.

I actually felt a phantom burning pain on my foot when I was typing this story.
( girlinthehole, Fri 21 Dec 2007, 13:14, Reply)

Oh, the Iron-y
Was ironing a shirt for a work a couple of months back. As I was manouvering my shirt to iron a bit I'd missed, I knocked my nice, new iron off the ironing board. Fortunately, I caught it before it hit the ground.

I still have an iron-shaped burn on my hand...
(ScousersPet, Fri 21 Dec 2007, 13:05, 3 replies)