Sparks Fly Out

There be an olde English saying around these parts:

Remember, remember the fifth of November
Pat McGarry ran out of pot.

Or something like that.

It's more or less Bonfire Night today. It's one of two nights a year that the UK get to piss around with fireworks and invariably, someone dies as a result. Insane, I know, but it's good practice for nuclear fallout, which, here in York, we're pretty sure is going to happen because there are not one, but TWO American early warning bases on either side of York out in the country. So if the martians invade, York'll be the first to go.

Thanks a lot, assholes.

AnyArmageddon, Bonfire Night is pretty much the same for me every year.

1. I stumble around a very smokey York

2. I go to a pub, cram in with the masses around a bonfire, get choked out by sulphur fumes and wood smoke and get some form of alcohol spilt on me.

3. Have flashbacks of 'Nam triggered by the constant fireworks.

4. Grab a takeaway and head home.

5. Get no sleep because someone has torched a car near my house (It's a ritual. People who live on my street/estate watch out for cars that haven't moved in a month or two, and then torch it. It was an old white Ford Escort last year. NOTE: I had nothing to do with the torching of the car) and the fireworks will not. stop. banging.

---

It's a great night out.

Sadly the smoke from the fireworks always makes me ill. Last year I was ill for a month (ever-so-conveniently causing me to miss my mock exams), and the year before that I was ill for two weeks. It's never good. I've just shaken off one cold, and odds are I'll get another one, which sucks cuz I'm working next week.

I feel weirdly powerful, being able to say that.

WORK, suckahs!

And the odds are that I'm the last person to get a job. Good lord I'm sad.

In other news I spent the better part of an hour playing snap with Anna Ross today. Think of Anna Ross as like... the brother from Napoleon Dynamite, or something. Only more kick-ass. She also does karate.

Tip: Never play snap with someone who is liable to karate chop your hand when you tell "SNAP!"

If I ever find my hands it'll be a bloody miracle.