THE POWER OF BIC PENS

Early on in my career I discovered the power of Bic pens.

Around the age of 10 my mother had been doing a lot of her shopping at Big Lots. She would always come home with a thousand things loaded in the trunk of her car and I would have to spend 10 minutes or so loading those things back into the house. She never really bought things based on need. She focused instead on whether or not something was on sale. So one day, she came home with a box full of Bic round stick grip ball point pens (try saying that 5 times really fast).

If you've read the intro post to this blog then I think you have an idea as to where this is going.

I was in the 6th grade at the time. I was in a new school, significantly larger than my old one, and I had none of my elementary school friends with me (my mother had me transferred to a school closer to our house).

I was in a foreign environment, alone and afraid,and within the first two weeks of school I had come face to face with a serious problem.

HORNETS!!!

Yup, the bane of my middle school existence consisted of a piece of paper and a rubber band.

not very scary?

Here let me show you why I hated them so much, compare these two images



Now compare these two images

oh wait there is only one photo. Good, I only need one photo. Both the paper hornet and the insect hornet result in pain. It's just that middle school boys are far more malicious than insect hornets are and i spent a lot of my middle school life peeking at a mirror from over my shoulder to count the welts on my back.
So what could middle school me do about it? I was getting tired of being shot in the back and sitting in the back so that no one was behind you simply meant that people would turn around and shoot you in the face. After having received a hundred or so welts from the generous paper recyclers of my school, I decided to take action. I took one of my many Bic pens, took it apart, and constructed a weapon of superior destructive power to smash my foes into the dust from whence they came.
The design for which lies below.

Yeah, super bad!!!!
For a few days after I had created this I would shoot anyone who dared to attempt to welt me. The ink cartridges had a bad habit of exploding when they hit something. Needless to say, after several ruined shirts and some broken skin, people made sure that their hornets were aimed away from my general vicinity.

Intro to my Blog

IMMAAAA FIIRRIIIN MAH LAZZZZEEEEEEEEEEEERRRR

Just in case you don't happen to have any idea as to what I'm referring to in my title.
My name Daniel, hi nice to meet you, i am sure that we will be good friends. By now you have probably figured out that this is a blog, if not, well now you know.

I created this blog in order to share with you the pleasure of tinkering (when i say tinkering i mean crafting tiny weapons to destroy what few toys, walls, or houseplants that remain in my home)

Unfortunately i will not be firing a laser. If any of you feel like my title is false advertising i apologize (suck it up).

But before i share with you my arsenal of mini WMDs, I'd like to inform you of the risks associated with such a dangerous hobby.

I first became a tinkerer around the age of 4, this was also around the age I discovered the dangers of tinkering. While using the restroom (i had recently been potty trained and I was rather proud of my newly acquired skills) i discovered that by mixing toilet paper with water I could form a sticky clumpy mass which, depending on the ratio of water to paper, would either stick to walls in a clump or go splat. of course at age 4 i did not what a ratio was and all I understood was more water=big splat less water=sticky splat. I tested my hypotheses on the ceiling and several hours later, after my mother had used the restroom, i received a good fashioned beat down.

Fast forward 9 years, and by age 13 I had received many minor injuries from my hobby, However at that age I discovered something even more awesome than toilet paper.

MATCHES!!

I came up with the absolutely brilliant idea of making a rocket. Using a soda bottle lots of hairspray and several dismembered pens I came up with a design of pure epicness. The design of pure epicness lies below.

Now the problem with my design did not lie in the design itself so much as in the operator. On the day that i chose to test fire this weapon it was raining. My answer to that dilemma was to fire it indoors. I had also discovered that we had run out of hairspray and deodorant. So i replaced it with spray on sunscreen. The problem with the spray on sun screen is that it didn't remain aerosol for very long and instead pooled at the bottom of the bottle. The problem with firing it indoors should be obvious. having made all the necessary preparations, I struck a match and lit the tissue paper, pointing the barrel towards a cardboard box.

The result was not one that I had anticipated (but most likely should have). The tissue lit instantly and ignited the propellant, as it was supposed to, but the propellant, having pooled at the bottom of the container exploded out of the back end in the form of liquid fire. The unfortunate thing was that my right hand, which was mere inches away from the back end, got a good roasting. The really unfortunate thing was that my left hand which was holding the bottle (at that point aflame) got a good roasting and dropped the flaming bottle onto the wooden floor of our house. The really REALLY unfortunate thing was that my mother came back from her trip to the swimming pool at the exact moment I was dumping water onto the smoking bottle ( my mother is really good at catching me in the act).

what happened afterwards was too painful to write about.

Another 3 years after that and by age 16 I had stabbed my self multiple times (all accidental), burned myself several more times, and shot myself with an arrow.
Needless to say, you have been warned, making a weapon can have a painful effect on your life.