Part 1.
Well...I've been thinking which story to tell .
Initially I was going to tell a story about the time myself a few friends staggered into a gay bikies bar at Kings cross... But much of that story remains suppressed in my memory so that one is out.
Then I was going to tell you about the time I was invited out on a mates yacht for some serious drinking and male bonding. Boats are great for this type of social event because one only has to stagger to the blunt end to relieve oneself. Grab the back stay with one hand to brace yaself...the other hand aiming " The weener" to ensure all went in the ocean.
Seems this back stay also served as the aerial of a 100 watt transceiver. Not nice when one of ya Ph*#%in mates hit the transmit button and yells into the mike.
Not gonna tell that one either as tears still come to my eyes.
The story I am goin to tell goes wayyyy back to when I was about 12 years old...about the turn of the century I think.
We used to have a Guy Faulks night when all us kids would build a giant bon fire and go around the neighbourhood blowing up letter boxes with what we called bungers.... like a giant fireworks cracker but with the power of a small stick of dynamite. These things would make short work of most letterboxes.
Anyways... for weeks before Guy Faulks night all us kids would spend our pocket money buying these fireworks. We'd buy sky rockets, strings of what were known as tom thumbs, and a heap of these bungers.
This particular year, the authorities declared fireworks to be dangerous and made the sale of them illegal. Seems too many kids were blowing fingers off playing with the things.
Anyways.....by the time this declaration was made I'd already procured some of this stuff as I had been planning retaliation on whoever it was that blew our letterbox to kingdom come the year before.
I didn't know who it was...but I figured if I blew every letterbox on the block..then I'd get the guilty party.
Lets just say I had a secured a $hitload of pyrotechnics.
So Mum tell me I've got to dispose of all my fireworks. Not allowed to " let em off" anymore she said....gotta destroy em by soaking them in a bucket of water and the council would come get the bucket.
Yeah right I thought....like there goes 2 months worth of pocket money. Like hell I'm goin to soak my crackers.
Soooo... being good kids and not wanting to disobey our parents, we decided that what we would do was to cut open all these fireworks and put all the powder into a tin with a wick and let off the biggest cracker we could in my backyard behind the toot.
