Ooohh, runningwithsporks reminded me….
I was helping clear a neighbours garden. This garden is not just overgrown, it is full of all manner of shite. Think Mr Trebus from the BBC’s Life of Grime. There are bits of car, bits of old injection moulding kits, and a very old, very heavy, very wide, iron rake, the kind you use for roads.

It was decided, as things often are, that fire is a good cleanser. The bonfire was ten or twelve feet in diameter, and went off at a fair pace. The rake was close by, and being made entirely of metal, started getting warm… so I moved it, and stood it up. I even said, ‘be careful here, I’ve stood the rake up and it’s a bit hot’ – before stepping straight onto the prongs, twatting my arm and temple, and bruising and burning myself in one hit.

How did we get so far as a species?
( ancrenne doesn't eat anything that can play video games, Thu 20 Dec 2007, 16:26, closed)