People Say You're Strange.

Unbenounced to my own understanding of the common formula of fire, a conductive surface and a holding apparatus for a fluid, i had managed to boil a pot of catsup with a 9v battery and a thimble filled with baking soda. Not realizing that the liquid had not been bubbling due to a current but had actually managed to heat itself in a matter of seconds allowed for a building complex fire. In my solo attempt to pass on the relentless clock ticking off a Duracell AA removed from a lime green Game Boy containing my only resembling memory of the casket plastic box the bones red bearings were neatly packaged in for my tech deck after the second random implosion of home goods from my traveling car home. Nobody had tapped on the floor for what should have been hours. But rather, my neighbor spent a solid 40 minutes adjusting the light fixtures on his ceiling and that every 1000 bulb rule, about the random explosion upon installation, apparently applies to boxes of batches and not just single coils, one can only assume due to factory settings on the day of creation, because he kept cursing with a solemn side of gratitude for the random occurrence. The rats may be working for us as i listen to them learn from the ants on how to fortify a tunnel system through the walls and outside the bars... which we are sure were meant to keep us in and not others out. On a monday canned peas souffle to do list my day off consisted of an hour to boast (before topping the afternoons creation with my famous broiled oven toast garnish of ground filth and may contain real tomato flavoring) spent building a house of cards... while we preheat. Not noticing that fumes had been building in the closed oven face and were slowly building in the comfy first floor where i had conveniently placed the diamond kings studio sparked a match for my first cold turkey cigarette i hadn't touched since the last time i thought about buying a pack. Puff... In Flames.