The other week I picked up a pizza from the supermarket. I got home and turned the oven on not long after, then went to my room to funpost .gs cyber with your mum. A while later this acrid, smoky stench hit my nose, and there was a thin grey vapour around most of the ground floor. I pulled open the oven and found the trey full of this foul black liquid, which, upon returning from my uncle's, my dad told me must have been the fat from his post-work sausage sandwich. There was an inconclusive debate about who was most at fault (him for leaving it there, me for not checking) then I wanked to your mum ate my slightly smoky pizza.

I put a big chunk of pork on to boil for a while, then got stoned and forgot about it for most of a day. The house smelled like burned flesh for weeks.

Once the foil had caught on fire and cooker kind of exploded. I wasn't on any drugs or drunk. Still got shit for it though.

Back when I lived in student digs we had one of those awful hot plate cookers which took ages to either heat up or cool down after they were turned off. I managed to distractedly toss a tea towel onto the counter so that a corner of it was across one of the plates enough that it caught fire. I got a deserved bollocking from my flatmates for that one, and learned that burned tea towel smells fucking rank.

I once tried to make a bacon sarnie whilst drunk. All of my pans were in the dishwasher so I decided to fry the bacon in my wok. My wok instincts kicked in and I started shaking it around like a Ken Hom with Parkinson's, burning my entire right hand with hot oil in the process. Nothing helped with the intense pain, and soaking my hand in cold water only provided me with enough temporary relief to google home remedies for second-degree burns. American mustard was an old pizza parlour remedy and was supposed to work wonders, so I rushed off to my local supermarket where I was lucky enough to find a bottle. I slathered it on my massively blistered hand and it worked like a charm. The pain was now quite manageable and the bacon sarnie I could now finish cooking was delicious.

>>11800
When I was in first year in my halls, some drunk twat came in at 2am on a weekday and tried to make a bacon sandwich by frying the bacon directly on the hob. He was not a favourite with everyone standing outside in the rain while we waited for the fire alarm to be investigated.

The worst I've done when drunk is spread peanut butter on every slice of a loaf of bread. When I awoke my bed was a crusty peanut buttery mess, as I think I only ate a couple of bites.

>>11795

>I chopped the end of my finger almost all the way off while chopping potatoes once.

Funny you say this, I had my then girlfriend over at the time and we were in the kitchen. I was showing her how to correctly hold a knife and chop a large sweet potato. The next thing I know, I slam the knife directly into the top half of my left thumb, cleanly going through half of it.

I was suggested to go to the emergency room, but the potatoes weren't going to chop themselves - so I bandaged it up well and after 2 weeks everything was fine. The adrenaline kicked in the moment I cut it, and I literally felt no pain. Surreal.

>>11801
Everyone else in my postgrad block had gone home for the year except me, it was some time during the summer break. I put some weird Chinese sweet balls (left behind by one of the many Chinese students) simmering on the hob to have after lunch, promptly forgot I'd done so, and left for the office.

Wandered back some time later to the sound of fire engines. I'd managed to set off multiple fire alarms on two floors, can't remember how many but the head groundsman gruffly assured me it was a new record.

Put a pot of water on and dropped some pasta in for lunch, then the second I stepped out of the kitchen I decided to go to the shops to pick up some lunch, completely forgetting I was already halfway through making lunch.

Came back from the shops to a pan of fire. I've still never met someone else who has managed to burn a pan of spaghetti.

>>11830
You're in luck, a friend sent me this after his dad did the same.

>>11831
I think that >>11830 might be your mate's dad.

>>11831
>>11832
Hate to be a party pooper.

>>11830
>>11831
Spaghetti is weirdly flammable. One of those 'lifehacks' advises you to use a strand to light candles.

When I was a teenlas squaddie we had a communal tea kitchen at the end of our barracks. I made cheese on toast under the grill, which I then forgot to switch off leading to some plastic melting and setting off fire alarms and such. The next morning on parade or CO went ballistic talking about the person responsible possibly being charged with attempted manslaughter.

Not much chance of being charged now though.

>>11835
How was the toastie?

>>11836
Toasty.