Had an amusing time at the local bonfire and firework thingy last night, marred only by the ridiculously long wait between lighting the fire and starting the fireworks. Getting on for an hour and a half, I reckon.
All so the local halfwit radio station presenters could screech "Woo! Yeah! Let's part-ay!" over the tannoy. Over and over again. The adoring crowd of potato-headed fans (total number - about 6) stood slack-jawed and hot-dog covered until the fireworks started, when they all pointed vacuously at the sky instead.
Probably trying to work out why the stars were falling. I look forward to the panic-stricken letters to the local paper next week.
Fuckwits.
Saw a bat flying about among the rising embers of the fire. Was probably getting really pissed off that every moth he grabbed turned out to be red hot.
Getting out at the end was a bit of a shambles. Everyone stampeded for the exit the minute the last rocket had done its thing, so there was a massive queue. The soldiers who were managing the traffic did their best but it was obvious that it was going to take ages to get everyone out.
We got stuck behind a nervous young girl who was disinclined to push out into the ever-increasing stream of traffic, which was a bit tiresome. She plucked up courage eventually, and we waited to take our turn. Sadly, the utter bastards in the moving traffic began to squeeze closer and closer together, preventing anyone else pulling into the line. Most annoying, as we had been waiting patiently for half an hour by this time.
Suddenly a large shaven-headed* bloke leapt out of his car and stood in front of the moving traffic, stopping it in its tracks. He waved us out, saying "Go on mate, you were there first" which I thought was very nice of him.
And then home for chilli and beer. Hurrah.
Off out shortly to a neighbour's for another firework party. It transpires that Mr WithaY has some sort of medical condition which means he cannot walk past a shop selling fireworks without buying a load. Tragic really.
I might start a charity.
*and not at all potato-like
6 comments:
Fireworks are banned in Australia.We can only see them when it's New Year's, or something like that. They were still allowed when I was growing up, but I think the authoriy
ies got sick of people losing thumbs, etc.
I remember my brother buying some when we were kids, and he set himself on fire. No harm done, but I had to cut all of the singed bits out of his hair before Mum and Dad got home so they wouldn't know. Ahhh, happy happy days.....
Childhood...so precious.
I got hit by a firework once as a child. It fell over and scooted along the ground, ricocheting off my wellie on the way.
Another instance of the excellent protective qualities of rubber.
I like the sound of the potatoe headed local radio fans.
I love local events :-)
They make you glad to be alive, I find.
God I hate our local radio station. Fuckers.
Sounds a lot more fun than the one we went to.
Nice list of bands too!
Hey hello Brom. It was fun, in a banjo-playing kind of way. And the fireworks were excellent.
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