I heard somebody say "burn, baby, burn" - redeux

Yep. It's Disco Inferno time again.

In March, when I did the Escape From Fort DeSoto sprint tri, I sang this song to myself to keep me occupied and perky during my race. (It had been playing at a dance recital I'd seen days earlier as well as at the pre-race gathering on the beach.) As usual, I hadn't been feeling good in the weeks leading up to the race, and on the weekend of the race I felt assy and didn't sleep well. But singing something upbeat and silly to myself got me through, with a PR and a smile on my face.

A few days ago, someone was angry with me about my personal decisions (particularly my decision to dump him). So angry that he told me something I've never been told before: "I hope you burn in hell!!!"

YEEE-OUCH! At first this was terrifying. You have to be pretty damn peeved to use a phrase that strong. I mean, hello? How pissed must you be to wish someone an eternity of burning, whether spiritually or literally, in That Place? My personal favorite for angry dismissal is "fuck off and die" - which, I'll admit, is very intense - but at least it completely leaves eternal damnation out of the picture.

Then, the more I thought about being told to "burn in hell," the funnier it became, because all I could think of was that stupid song. "I heard somebody say, 'Burn, baby, burn'..."

So I decided, fine, I'll burn.

I'll burn . . .

• The candle at both ends.
• Because I'm so damn hot that I'm on FIYAH!!! (Insert AC/DC lyric here.)
• A few bridges.
• Bright as hell, because this whole experience has made me stronger, sharper, and more brilliant (and now I sound like a Ginsu knife.) (Only 15 easy installments of $29.95!) (But WAIT! There's more! Call now and you get this nifty slicer/dicer, a set of cutting boards and an annoying-ass yipping chihuahua for FREE!!!) (Operators are standing by!)
• Some charcoal when I throw my dinner on the grill.
• CD's from my uber-fabulous iTunes playlist.
• If I don't apply sunscreen, but only if I stay out longer than 4 hours, because I am, after all, part Native American.
• The top of a creme brulee if someone gives me one of those nifty torches.
• The shit belonging to the person who told me to burn in hell if he doesn't leave me alone.
• (Up) the dancefloor when I start dancing again.
• Some candles, incense, and essential oils to chase out bad smells and karma.
• Anything else I can get my hands on. I may have been a pyro in another life.
• Plenty of calories when I start training again.

But I will most certainly not burn in hell.

Thank you, drive the f*&^ through.