Archive for: January 2008

Well, boys and girls, the brain blockage continues unabated. I’m still sitting at my keyboard for a bit every day, shaking my head like a thinking man at a Greenpeace rally, and nothing’s popped loose. Is there such a thing as ExLax for the brain?

So, since the only original stuff I seem able to write these days is Jack and shit (and Jack’s busy running the Dippers), kick back and soak this up for now.

A big ol’ tip o’ the toque to Paul over at CJ for finding this first.

Seeing as how I seem to have a bad case of bloggers’ block up the wazoo lately, I’m getting a little hard up for stuff to write about.

So, for lack of anything better, I guess I’ll just smack up whatever it is that I trip over that either tickles my funnybone, leaves me going “what the hell…?” or both.  Today’s entry is under the “both” heading.

And, I promise, just as soon as I can jar something loose from this rickety damned skull of mine, I’ll be right back to howling my lungs out about things that actually matter.  Until then, I’m afraid you’ll just have to sit through stuff like this… Sorry. 🙁

British man puts out kitchen fire with aunt’s oversized underwear

LONDON – They went from baggy knickers to the ultimate hotpants.

A fire department official in Britain says Jenny Marsey’s miraculous underwear saved the day by doubling as an emergency fire blanket during a kitchen blaze.

Marsey’s nephew, John, was frying bread in her kitchen in Hartlepool, northeast England, on Sunday when the fire broke out.

He grabbed the nearest thing from a pile of washing to smother the fire – a wet pair of his aunt’s size 18 underwear.

The nephew’s quick thinking saved the kitchen but left Marsey’s underpants slightly scorched.

“It could have been a lot worse,” said Marsey. “My family could have been in hospital but the knickers saved the day.”

A fire brigade spokesman said that the general principle – using a large, wet cloth to cover a grease fire – was a sound one.

As for using underwear: “Clearly it depends on what size you are,” he said, “but I don’t want to go there.”

Dear gawd… I really do need something to set a fire under me…