Well there was a street party. They closed that part of the road. So we dutifully turned up, with 9 gross of supermarket pigs in blankets all warm, and a dozen Jerusalems of Premiere Grand Cru low cal no taste Shloer.
Driving around the patriotic obstructive bunting, because it was too far to walk, immediately achieved objective #1; I will now be
recognized, even if it's as that entitled tw@t from down the road.
The circle of blokes were collectively as useless as they'd been last time at lighting the pretentious jumbo barbecue, so they were glad to have something warm to eat. And dissipate their embarrassing kids. And dogs. Then back to the car for the blowlamp, to stick in the cold coals they were trying to light with matches. Kids heard the roar and returned to ask their dads awkward embarrassing questions again. One dad sparked up,
"Oi Jimmy Saville, can you fix us up some of them drones?"
Hey, they've got a name for me, now.