Guy Fawkes is a bad influence on me. (6/11/06)

As you all know, it was Bonfire Night last night. A largely British celebration, as it was founded by a dirty red Commie trying to blow up the Houses of Parliament. It's a touching story remembered nowadays by smack heads (Heroin Addicts) sitting outside corner shops screaming: "PENNY FOR DA GAY!" (See entry: "Hallows Eve is nigh upon us. Prepare."), the conclusion of this begging is brought upon on the 5th of November (when the plot was foiled... NOT the day when Guy Fawkes was executed) by throwing your Guy Fawkes made of black bags and old clothes and used and discarded condoms upon the flames... why?

We don't know.

Every year my Nana holds a family gathering to commemorate the fact that somebody at least tried to explode the politicians of Britain. Kind of sick, no? Anyway! I walked in and immediately I saw my cousin and her boyfriend, so I stood talking to them for a while, then I saw my other cousin... then another cousin... who had whiskey. It began with a couple of mouthfuls, it ended in a couple of glasses (one of which poured by me... big mistake) and eventually me and my cousin's boyfriend (Gav, he was one of the first people I started talking to) eating raw chicken.

We didn't actually know the chicken was raw when we eat it... seriously, we didn't. It was there so we eat it.

What made me laugh is when I walked outside to meet my girlfriend to have about four people say "DUDE! GAV'S EATING RAW CHICKEN!". I'm standing there with a half eaten raw chicken in my hand. My reply was this:

"*raises chicken, takes bite out of chicken* Point in question?".

Everybody laughed and it was left upon mine and Gav's shoulders to worry about our health. Immediately Gav asked my Nana whether or not it was in fact raw. My Nana gave her typical over complicated answer.

"Well, if it was on the tray which is resting on one of the chairs in the front room the chances are it is raw, or if it's red in the middle, it's raw but you should be fine as Salmonella isn't as common in white meat."

Gav turned slightly white (Which would have made him unlikely to catch Salmonella as it's not as common in white meat) and then threw the rest of his chicken into the fire.

I continued eating mine.

Later on in the night the Jack Daniels had began making me slightly ill and I felt like throwing up... maybe it was the chicken? No, it was the whiskey, I don't drink it as often as I used to, so I think my tolerance may have slipped (about fucking time).

The next day I went over to my Nana’s to pick up my brothers bike.

Interesting fact: My brother is six. This is a BMX for a six year old. With lights. And a bell that rings. And things to make it look good. But it's small as fucking hell, and I had to ride the damned thing about three fucking miles.

Anyway, Steph and Gav were there. Steph looked fine, Gav looked rather ill... strange. He told me that he believed he was dying of Salmonella. I laughed and promptly went into the front room to get more food... though Gav was ill, when he realised there was more food he eat like a motherfucker. Then complained his stomach hurt.

Good ol' Gav.

Eventually Steph pissed off and came back with babies! Yay babies!

Then I remembered how much one of them liked to bounce... followed by being thrown into the air... and I was always the victim of this bounce-fly exercise. Now remember, I smoke too much, rarely leave the house, drink too much, don't sleep properly and don't have a healthy diet. This means I'm lazy and unfit! Yet, the baby (I can't remember which one, I think it's Joshy... I can't tell twins ;_;. NOTE: It is Nathan! I have been taught by a higher life form which is which!) tortures me with this.

To cut a long story short, it resulted in me being half dead and collapsing in the hospital room after being diagnosed with the universal problem known as OH GOD NO! NOT MORE BOUNCING BABIES! Syndrome.

I've months left to live.