A glorious old mate of mine was renowned for being able to break into virtually any house or flat he chose to. On the occasions you'd take the rare precaution of locking the doors and closing the windows on your way out, this rogue Houdini would somehow find his way inside and make himself at home.
It wasn't uncommon to walk inside what you thought was an empty flat only to have the bejesus scared out of you as the young man sat on your couch, watching the telly and helping himself to your two-minute noodles. He could even gain entry into second-floor apartments with just one entrance. I was full of wide-eyed wonder for this thieving bastard and we remained close friends even if others couldn't appreciate the boy's immense talent.
The problem was he was also a pyromaniac. This loose unit carried a canister of lighter fluid with him wherever he went, just in case there was a need to either start a fire or add fuel to an existing one. Why? No idea. Of course, being a student in Dunedin, coupled with a predilection for pyromania, it was only a matter of time before a couch or two was torched in the name of a good time. Actually, come to think of it, I'm not sure he was actually a student at all; more a mate who hung around ... whatever the case, he was simply adding to the noble and ancient art of Dunedin couch-burning.
However, it appears we're not alone in Farming Show HQ country. The Urban Dictionary states couch-burning is a favourite pastime for West Virginia residents in Morgantown when their university football team is successful. Over the past decade, they've had 3000 street fires, prompting the government to step in and make it a felony punishable with prison time. Much like Otago University, you can now be kicked out of school for torching a couch.
But on further inspection you realise students at West Virginia University wear the mantle of couch-burning capital of the US with pride - there are even T-shirts you can buy with the slogan: "Where greatness is learned and couches are burned."
