Imagine what you could do with a big lighter. You could start a campfire in mere seconds. You could also bring this bad boy to a concert and show how much you love the band. Or you could light all 68 candles on your mother’s birthday cake and cook the frosting a little.
Just imagine these things, of course. Don’t actually do them.
I Wish This Guy Spoke English, So I Knew What Was Going On. But Hey; Cool Fire Tornado, Brah
Far beyond the Crazy World of Arthur Brown, we have the Slow Mo Guys. From what I can tell, their entire job revolves around breaking, blowing up, eating, puking, stabbing, slashing, shooting, and eviscerating random objects and filming it with a slow-motion camera. If I could give them some sort of award for awesomeness, I would, but they already have my dream job, so the only thing I’ll give them is my burning jealousy.
I want to recommend these to my family and friends, but I do not want one. I want to get one for my wife who doesn’t exist yet, and all of my children who will not exist for several decades. I want to get elected to local office, so I can decree that every citizen gets one. I want to load an AC-130 full of flamethrowers and launch them into every home on the North American Continent. I want to conquer other countries and use their resources to make even more flamethrowers for my own nefarious purposes.
I don’t want one of these things — I want two of these, in case one is in the shop