Never light a candle with a posty note

I haven't blogged in over a year. Seriously. Just checked my wordpress blog and it was Feb. 8 of 2008.

My first post was going to be about the male penis, but not too sure I'm ready to get my freak on with fellow readers just yet;) Instead, I'm going to share a little story with you about me, about what happened to me a few months ago. Don't get your hopes up, it's not really anything long, but it is funny...I think...anyway.

Since my divorce, I live in one half of a duplex (and OOOOhHHH my god I have to make a separate entry about my neighbor Fonzy*!!!). I have a basement and share a laundry room with Fonzy, separate washer and dryer, of course. My living area just screamed CANDLES, so I had to buy a few cheap ones at Wally World.

Never have I been much of a candle person, but now that I live alone and don't have anyone to answer to, I kind of like them (I'm all about the dangerous now...heh). Well, one night I decided to light a few. Since they were older now, the wick was a bit low in the jar. You know, you have to squinch up your hand to light it kind of jar. I didn't have matches, so I grabbed the first flammable thing closest to me. Post it notes. I flipped one up, curled it a little, then set it on fire. It was relatively easy to light the little wick, but the fire seemed to be getting bigger faster. I hopped stepped over to the sink, not really paying much attention to what was going on because hey, it was a little posty.

Imagine the horror when I did a quick flick of the wrist to drop the posty into the sink...only to see it still stuck to my fingers. It didn't 'flick' off. It didn't flick anywhere for that matter. It's a posty and it did what it was supposed to do, stick. Stick and remind me of what a dumbass I was for using a posty to light a candle.

For the life of me, I don't know what I was thinking by the repetitive wrist flicking and dancing feet. It's a posty. It wasn't going anywhere no matter how hard or how many times I wrist flicked it. And I always have dancing feet around flammables.... I don't know why I just didn't immediately thrust my getting hotter fingers, fireball and all, into running water.

What seemed like minutes were only seconds. No injuries what so ever, just an erruption of laughter from myself for a good five minutes after it happened.

It's good to be able to laugh at yourself:)