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Our Crack Little Crack

guyfawkes.jpg I used to really love Bonfire Night
 

I used to really love Bonfire Night (or Guy Fawkes or Fireworks Night or whatever you want to call it). I think it was the fact that all the kids on my estate used to run round with explosives while starting massive fires that made it so exciting. I hate it now because all the kids on my estate run round with explosives while starting massive fires. I am fascinated by the history behind it, though. I particularly like the fact that Fawkes, on being nabbed, gave the false name “John Johnson”. I know he was probably sweating cobs, on account of the hung, drawn and quartering to come, but could he not have come up with something just a tad more believable. And did you know that it was illegal to NOT celebrate Guy Fawkes’ night until – get this! – 1959! (This is true – Google it if you don’t believe me.) I wonder how that law was enforced? (“I witnessed the accused in the pub all night and he didn’t pop out to chuck even one banger.”)