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So….when you accidentally buy the match-light charcoal instead of the normal kind and you decide the warning printed on the label does not apply to you–the one about not using it in one of metal giant-coffee-can-like chimney cylinders that are supposed to make the charcoal start easier–as you open the bag and are overpowered by the fumes similar to those of lighter fluid and your half-assed attempt at lighting it end up setting it instantly ablaze, don’t be surprised when the plume of dancing orange flames start licking the eves of the house. It is at this point that you should read the next item on the warning label, you know, the one about not using it under overhangs, like those from trees and houses. So you dump the charcoal out of the metal cylinder into the BBQ. Hellfire. Hellfire. Hellfire. Those briquettes did not want to be disturbed and end up making you feel like you are reaching into Hell. At this point, you realize the next point on the to-don’t label. Don’t overfill your BBQ with briquettes. The unspoken suffix to that is: especially when they are already on fire.

On a related note, I have found a fun thing to do with the output of the paper shredder. And to think, earlier today I was expounding the virtues of Pyro II. Must tend to the fire…

Posted in: Dear Diary

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