Ideal Bite

I wouldn't go so far as to say I'm a pyromaniac, but I do have a fairly intense fascination with fire. The Fourth of July was my favorite holiday even before I discovered the wonderful math of beer + barbecue = good times because I loooooved watching stuff blow up. On family camping trips, my relatives would have to force themselves out of bed long before they would have preferred because seven-year-old Mike would inevitably find the matches and set about trying to start up the campfire for breakfast.

But pilot lights? They are the enemy. I love fire, but I absolutely cannot stand the heat. Loathe it. I devolve into a whiny, sweaty ball of complaints when the temperature rises above 85 degrees. And there's always a tiny bit of heat emanating from that little flame hidden in the furnace. Slight though it may be, anything that raises the temperature more than 0.00001 degrees in the summer must be stopped, because then I'm just gonna run the A/C longer, burning up even more resources - and I'll have to buy more deodorant.

SF Editor Mike...off to tell his roommates that they can't use the oven until Nov. 1...

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