On Fire (a memoir of the craft)

^ Apologies made to Mr Stephen King for shameless mutilation of one of his book titles.

I have not been on the Internet for... a long time. Owing to various things, including burnt hands (again, this time from some old tires), computer bans, sister discovering the delights of some social networking website yet again ect ect. And nothing happened. I will not be one of these bloggers who talks about nothing.

Johnny, I think, is still oblivious. This is a good thing. A very good thing.

Still, my reputation goes before me. I scare chavs and I have to go to another town to buy lighter fluid. I think everyone knows except Johnny and the police. Heh heh.

Johnny also says he made a 'me' on the Sims. He's a sim addict, I tells ya. A SIM ADDICT! He says he will send me a picture of 'her' and I can have it. So you, dear reader, can see it.

Anyway. Last Friday, we had an assembly. It was boring. Some crap about crap. I wasn't listening. Neither was Johnny. He was on the verge of leaning on my shoulder and drooling. I poked him.
"Hey, Johnny. Dare you to stand up and yell 'FIRE!'"
Johnny looks at me and then does so.
Everyone looks round, sees Johnny, sees me, then runs. Evidently my presence added a certain likelyhood to the event.
So, me and Johnny got detention. Well, Johnny got detention. But I am a pyromaniac of honour. So I owned up too. Reverse chivalry?