I do like barbecues, but I'm also very lazy, so I just go to other folk's barbecues. I do like barbecued meat, I could eat it till I'm sick.
If ever we camped, or went to bike rallies, we'd often have one. If you're having to cook outside anyway, you might as well.
I remember on one camping trip at a site near Pooley Bridge, we got back from the pub, and decided that a midnight barby while pissed would be a great idea.
Unfortunately the disposable grill we'd bought earlier came with flame-retardant charcoal. My mate reckoned things could be moved along a bit by pouring on some petrol freshly siphoned from his Harley.
I don't think any of us were ready for the speed at which the fire travelled up the petrol stream to the plastic bottle he was holding, and when he jumped back in surprise, he fell backwards into the ditch. By now his hand, the bottle and the water he was sat in were all on fire.
What happened next (or rather what didn't happen) earned us the silent treatment from his missus for the rest of the night. Instead of rushing to his aid, we quickly fumbled out our phones to record the fun. My mate's hand was fine. The real tragedy was that none of the video footage was any good