The true History of Guy Fawkes and other things

Today in the UK it is Guy Fawkes Night when loads of folk have bonfires, set off fireworks and eat toffee apples and wave sparklers about. However folk forget about why all this started back in 1605 when trying to escape from a large group of Zombies Guy Fawkes leapt into the cellar of the House of Commons. His train of thought (yes another saying that led to the saying, he has fallen off the rails) was that no Zombie with any sense of taste would be stupid enough to want to eat the brains of a politician. However Zombies cant read so followed him, so thinking quickly he happened upon several large casks of gunpowder and thought to himself . . . . .I know I will blow them up.

Unfortunately as he was running about avoiding Zombies and trying to set fire to the fuse for the gunpowder a large group of politicians arrived in the cellar to see what all the noise was about.  Zombies hate politicians they taste terrible so they ran off and hid leaving poor old Guy Fawkes standing on a large pile of explosives with a box of matches and as no one likes politicians they sort of got the wrong idea about him thinking he was trying to blow them up. 

Of course poor old Guy was hung and it was only afterwards that it was discovered that he was trying to blow up Zombies, so feeling a bit guilty and knowing that no one liked them anyway the politicians thought it best to celebrate him with a jolly uplifting event with bonfires where folk could burn a Zombie on it. Then after several accidents where the Zombie escaped and ate small children it was decided to burn an effigy of a Zombie instead.

We will be heading off to see Mr M again soon but have discovered, thanks to Miss Fionaski the Famous Russian Spy that it will be possible for him to have a Buddhist funeral service locally which is something he would like, so we will be passing on the information to his son later; although it is on microfilm and in code . . . . . . AH DAMN.

Mr M and fields of mud

I did not get to write my diary entry last night as Mr M has got weaker and has been given only a couple of days to live, so we headed off to see him and collect his son who had spent the day travelling up on trains from London. So we had to battle up the track to Mr M’s house in the dark and rain, but the trusty car made it again, although I am not sure that the trusty car is entirely happy about going to Mr M’s house.  We will be heading off to see Mr M again a bit later on, so we are slightly in limbo waiting for some news and making a few phone calls.

At present it is rather muddy outside so it is difficult to do anything such as poke about in holes with pointy sticks as the holes are full of water and/or mud. The ground is also far too muddy to chase Zombies about and wave pointy sticks at them, particularly as I do not really possess suitable mud fairing footwear to run about in mud.  I am told that the hospital would not entirely be happy if I turn up to see Mr M covered in mud and water with a pointy stick with bits of Zombie hanging off it and they might make me wait outside.

I have also got my White Falcon out of its case (it is not a falcon but a guitar) as it is some time since it has been out of its case and guitars do like to see some daylight and get a chance to stretch their legs (sorry pegs or is it strings). It is entirely the wrong guitar to take into a muddy garden too as it is sort of the wrong colour and as near as damn it the diametrical opposite of mud.

I may return later depending on events and time.

Mud, trucks, Curry and Corrugated Steel.

It is getting late; we sat down to eat a takeaway Indian curry from the rather good Indian restaurant in Montgomery some time ago and then chilled (as in relax not get cold), after a busy day.  It was a bit of a shock first thing this morning as we had to get up earlyish and head off to Mr M’s house to help move beds and shift corrugated tin sheeting and wood, we teamed up with Mr S and Mrs E (formally Miss I) who had been given a load of corrugated tin sheeting and wood by Mr M who is poorly in hospital. All sort of went well until it was time for Mr S and Mrs E to head off which involved turning a small truck round to get it back down his very dodgy track, and it sort of got stuck in the mud. It is very very muddy at Mr M’s house so this was not ideal and despite using planks and the like the truck was well stuck, so we had to resort using our trusty car to help without getting the car stuck also. This proved to be successful although we were all a bit done in afterwards and Mr S and Mrs E had to then whiz off to unload and return the truck to its home.

We then sorted a few things in Mr M’s house as his son is due to arrive for a couple of days, up from the great metropolis tomorrow.  And then we went off to see Mr M although he was not all that good today and had only eaten half a dried scone all day.  We were not with him too long as other visitors arrived so we returned home we were definitely flagging by then (that’s getting tired not waving flags)

It has now got very windy and wet which was what was meant to happen on the day of the great storm but did not, these things tend to happen on the English Welsh borders all the time stuff happens down south and then many moons later it turns up here. It is rumoured that we are one of the few parts of the world left where our phones are still connected to walls with wires and we heat our houses with sheep’s legs (sorry I mean logs).

The Ghost Writer also found something he made twenty years ago that he cant remember making although it is plainly clear he made it because he put his name on it, although he will admit he cant remember what he was called twenty years ago, but he thinks it was the same as he is called now, well that’s not very nice………..

I hope this makes sense my brain is not entirely working 100% due to a busy day.   

Knitted Beasts and Alien Hunters

It is wet today very wet and not really warm either so all in all it is not a nice day and not a lot is going on, much like last night where after I had returned from fighting off Banshees, Zombies and various Monsters with pointy sticks I was expecting at least one trick or treat visitor. I know it does not sound like a lot but as we live out in the sticks sort of protected by a large Zombie defence ditch and of course there was Mr Jones, alien hunter to the stars (alien . . . Stars . . . . .  HA HHAH AH HAH HAH HAhha ha ha haha hah ah ha ha) who was prowling about in a green alien suit in the woods shouting I AM YOUR FRIEND TAKE ME YOU LEADER……. Although someone in the village thought he said fiend rather than friend so started throwing turnips at anything that moved , including Guy who was dressed as a Fox (GUY FOX . . . AH HAHAHHH HAH HAH AHh ha ha hah ah ah) who then got chased by men on horses wearing rubbish Halloween costumes. 

Resulting in no visitors at all last night; last year a skeleton and his mum made it through the darkness of the night, woods, ditches, and electric fences so we did make sure we had treats to give people this year. I had even made sure they were inside little knitted beasts in order to maintain continuity with my diary, I guess this means I will have to eat them all myself  . . . . . . . AH DAMN . . . HAH HAHAH HAHh ahh ah ah hh hah hah hha ha ha ha  . . . .  I mean the treats not the knitted beasts, they will be locked away in the shed again until next year despite their little squeaks and squeals of protest  . . . . . . . .HAH HA AH HHA HHAH HAH AH HA HAH HA HAH AH HAH HA HAH HAH AH HA HAH ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha.

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