How ironic.

I just scorched all the hair on my right hand. How, you may ask... Well you see, i was refueling my zippo lighter, and I'd put two big squeezes of lighter fluid in it. And i thought to myself "I'll just put one more in, I don't want to over fill it. So start my third squeeze, and fuel starts GUSHING out the end. Like 3-4 drops a second falling from the wick. So i was like "SHIT SHIT SHIT, turned it right side up, stuck it back in it's case, and lit it to burn off the excess fuel before it leaked onto the case or my table.

But I didn't realise fuel had run down my hand. Lots of it. As soon as i flicked the wheel, my hand burst into flames. I now have maybe 2 mm of hair on each knuckle, and my room stinks of burnt hair. Actually, looking at it, it's not too bad. There's still a decent amount left. It doesn't look too weird.

This reminds me of a similar story, the one that was the inspiration for the name of this blog. It's about time i shared it with you all. 

So this one time, back in like year 10, I'd stolen a bottle of metho from my parents. No. Not for drinking. I wasn't that desperate. Anyway, I was pouring some into this metal jar lid, and setting it on fire, because blue flames are just about the prettiest things I've ever seen. Was sitting there enjoying the view, and decided to put my hands over the flame for warmth. Suddenly, with this awesome whump sound flames lept up and ignited the metho that i didn't even know was on my hand. It took me like a second or two to realise. So i paniced and shook my hand till it went out. Then, a few days later, I did it again, deliberately, at Josh's house. Fun fun fun. (Y)

And that's the story about how i found my potatoe...

I mean, named my blog. 

The End.

(P.S. Try this at home. It's pretty fun. But if you get hurt don't blame me.)