Ah, the memories....
...I feel the (burning) pain. A couple of weeks before going out to the States to work on Camp Spoilt Weasel, my housemate gave me some lasagne she'd made. She neglected to mention it was at 3,500 Kelvin and burnt the inside of my mouth quite badly, which needed a dose of antibiotics. Just as well. The antibiotics they gave me were exactly the right type to combat the rather nasty tick-borne infection I picked up in the good ol' US of A...
( Colonel Boris "...a desperate Buzzfeed imitation...", Fri 28 Dec 2007, 20:04, Reply)