Friday 5 November 2010

I'm a fire starter...

Just a quick one today as I type this on a touchscreen phone whilst sat on the bus, so is as frustratingly clumsy as a pissed unicyclist with Parkinson's trying to optimistically ride out an earthquake. Plus I am without spell check, so I fear my real lack of literacy skills will be revealed, but I'll blame that on the phone.

The reason I am in this rather pungent situation is that I am on my way to meet up with my better half and to watch a massive bonfire being lit whilst wearing enough layers to conceal a self-denying teenage pregnancy, and drink neat liquor from a hip flask like an upmarket tramp desperately trying to cling on to an ounce of dignity rather than accepting fact and chugging from the bag. I don't really care for the fire myself as I expelled all my pent up pyromaniacy as a teen, but it's an excuse to stand in a field and drink myself into stupor as I spent my later teen years, which ironically is where I originally got the "setting fire to shit" phase out of my system. An added bonus to this of course it witnessing enough fireworks to cover the national deficit of a small eastern block country be blasted into the air, which Ive never really got into myself as it quite literally is like setting fire to bank notes, or as close as you can legally get without risking beheading for treason, or being thrown into an asylum le mental, but I'll happy watch others piss their money away whilst making all the appropriate "oooohhh" and "aaahhh" noises like all the other dumbfounded fucks in my way of keeping warm from the fire.

Plus, it beats staying in the house and listening to the blitzkrieg and fire engine / ambulance sirens outside, where in Bradford, bonfire night is celebrated simply by the arsonistic torching of roadside fly-tipping spots without fear of imagined reprisal by the law.

Now, must dash, I might even have a sparkler to light.

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