I got a third degree burn on my calf at Glencoe Campground in Sturgis while leaning over to put some beads around a young lady's neck. Funny, I didn't even feel it when it happened.

 

As your sig says you are a product of your decisions... in this case your decision to not wear pants while riding a motorcycle.

Guess I must have been taught this lesson 40 years ago, not sure if I have learned it yet as occasionally I take that short trip down to the store dressed inappropriately.

As I have told my sons, If your going to be stupid you better be tough....

 

I'd rather burn my leg on the exhaust than have to wait for the Comcast guy.

 

I've yet to get burned, but this thread reminds me;
A number of years ago, we had some Japanese students staying with us for a few weeks. This one young kid is in love with "Haury Davison motocycle". So the day before they shipped out, he wanted a picture, of himself standing next to the Haury. OK. Meet me down the block at the neighborhood park and we'll take pictures there for a nicer back drop and all. So here's where it goes bad. I scoot up to the park and meet him. Park the bike, **** the wheel left and he positions himself just behind the floor board, right side. He smiles reeeal big, places his hand onto the throttle. He's cool, he's ready. I got the camera, I'm ready. To get him and the bike in the picture, I motion with my hand and tell him, "Move back a little bit". Well that "little bit" was all it took.
He pressed his bare leg up against that hot exhaust and jumped like he was stuck right in the butt with an electric cattle prod (wished I'd got THAT photo for him!). "Oooohhh...sorry guy!" I hollered. A few moments later, he smiled again for the camera and I got the photo he wanted. Half laughingly I blurted, "You got more than a picture to take back to Japan now." I felt horrible.