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This happened to me back in college, but it didn't burn down the house. Come with me on a not-so-fun nostalgic trip back to 1994. The place: Madison, WI. The month: November.

I was away at an out-of-town football game, and my roommate was home with his parents for the weekend. For some reason, people liked firing bottle-rockets at each other in the hall (it was one long hallway each floor). Evidently, that wasn't fun enough, for the jackass next door decides to fire one under the door into our room.

Well, it must have hit the couch. From what I was told, it smoldered for awhile, and finally launched into flames. The little spoiled brat who caused the issue freaked out, didn't know what to do.

Enter the stoners. There was a group of slightly more than recreational drug users who lived at the end of the hall. They heard this guy squealing, and they leapt into action. One kicked down the door, while another used the fire extinguisher to spray everything in sight. That worked well enough to knock it down till the fire dept came and threw the couch out the window. It started the tree outside on fire because it re-ignited. It was quite the sight for the bar-time crowd I'm told.

Anyway, they had a special Student Crisis fund at school, so you could take a short-term loan to buy books, etc. They took a bit out of everyone's tuition for this stupid segregated fee program, and this was one of the beneficiaries. Ms. Donna Shalala was in charge of it (it was out of the Dean's office, and she was the Dean.) I went to her to ask for information on the application process. She asked me where I lived, and when I told her a fraternity she said "you probably won't qualify" in that lovely liberal snotty way.

And that, my friends, was when I realized the true essence of liberalism: power over others. It gave me one hell of a shove onto the road to being a conservative.