Happy Guy Fawkes...or at least we *think* he's happy...

We decided to use the excuse of a Brit surname to indulge in a bit of Guy Fawkes today, even though our exceedingly pathetic guy was hardly impressive and we haven't anything resembling a genuine bonfire.

Guy and his Parkin (the cake was better - why is is called Parkin, I wonder? Treacle and ginger - yummm):
( What's this, I asked for gunpowder! )

( Guy asks for a light...and gets one... )

( Yaaaarrrrrgghhh! )

Ah, Guy... no dignity in having your armpits lit by a teenage guy, is there?