By Aaron Peart
I would love to have seen my editor’s face when she received my latest email.
“So I bought a flamethrower from Elon Musk yesterday…” I typed out to her, completely serious. “Think I can get an article out of my sound financial decision making?”
Yes. Yes, she fucking did think I could get an article out of it.
I swear, Elon Musk is what happens when a 5-year-old is in charge of creating a Bond Villain.
To the uninitiated, this is the 5 second video that started it all:
Yes, I am one of the 20,000 viewers who stared at that scene on loop, jaw hung open in unhinged delight.
And unbridled happiness.
For the low-low price of $500 American dollars, my toy is pre-ordered, and on the way…
So…what are we going to break until then? But you know what, it gives me time to really enjoy…and look forward to my new toy coming. Smiling, I thought of the glorious walls of hot desire it would produce, and with it, I released a dreamy sigh. I suppose, in some part of my lizard brain, I’ve always wanted a flamethrower. I suppose the fire was first lit (heh, heh) when I saw this product on sale:
Look at that and tell me your mind isn’t split right down the middle between “I want this more than I want to be a parent” and “This is the dumbest way to burn down my house I’ve ever seen”.
But who fucking cares? I’m going to be a Ghostbuster x Firebender!!!
This flamethrower adventure is also the first time I’ve had an opportunity to indulge in my stupid impulsive fantasies. Literally, I can’t remember the last time I bought something for more than $50 without weighing up the options, carefully and considerately like a real-live grown-up.
But seriously. A flamethrower.
A thing that throws flames.
If I were, say 18 – legally an adult, but (no offence to readers) FAR too stupid to own a destructive toy, yes, this would be dangerous. And here at PopLurker, we are not suggesting everyone go out and buy a damn flamethrower! But, that said, I’m almost twice that age. Plus, I don’t have a mortgage. AND my girlfriend owns 3 guns that she calls toys… something I was raised explicitly told they were not. (Incidentally, my firewood axe is not a tool to her, it’s a “weapon”.)
But semantics can’t shake this love down.
Many of my friends have asked “Why did you buy it?”
To which I reply: “Why the heck not?”
I work hard, I rarely buy silly things, and this is the silliest thing on the market. Plus, I can’t find a pair of fuck-me heels in my size that go with my plaid shirts.
In all seriousness, some women will spend $800-$1000 on a pair of boots or a clutch (“They were on sale!”) and no one bats an eye. But a guy who isn’t Dan Bilzerian drops less on a fire machine and everyone wonders if it’s a sound decision.
Well let me tell you, friends. For me, it is!
Everyone asks what I’m going to do with it… and that’s such an open question as to be daunting. Unfortunately I live in a place with some serious forest fire issues in summer, so I have between 2 and 8 weeks to dick around with it. A more pressing question would be: what’s the first thing I’ll do with it. And that’s easy: I’m going to stand on my balcony with no shirt on and blast it into the air while Metallica’s “Master of Puppets” breaks into the guitar solo. Ideally, it will be a stormy day, but I live in the PNW, where the thunder is rare.
But I can dream. Because if there’s one thing to be said about Lurkers…we’re dreamers.
If I can, I’ll go skiing with it. Hear me out. Spring skiing is a totally different beast than those preppy ass froofy Juicy Fruit skiers from the 80s. The month of May has generally fewer tourists, it’s sunny out, and the libations tend to flow a little freer on the hill.
What better place to be reckless than on a mountain with a few?!
Right now, my home security system is an axe handle. The handle cracked, and I replaced it, so now I have this piece of wood hanging around. A piece of wood that is literally designed to swing through the air. But now? Now (well, in a couple months), that defense system will be as good as firewood. Of which it may ACTUALLY become once I gain the power of lighting my fireplace from the comfort of my couch.
Finally – and I just know there will be a relevant warning on the box – I’m probably going to cook food with it. Nothing extravagant (though it would look fucking INSANE to light a Cherries Jubilee with this thing). But what better way to toast an entire loaf of bread than to line up 10 slices on each side and just flame on! Right down the middle. Turn each slice, and repeat. Epic toast party! All the toast I (and some friends) can handle. Because really, if you’ve ever had cold toast, you’ll know it’s not worth the effort. Better to invite some buddies over, and pick a slice. Some of the pieces get too charred? Feed them to Steve over there. You know, the one who always brings those boxes of Keystone Light to BBQs. Because no one wants those, Steve! Now you’ve gotta eat this scorched bread as retribution, Steve!
As you can see, it’s going to be one badass spring.
Because the real show, ladies and gentlemen, is on its way.
To be continued…
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