Not so much of a festival here, but the oiks have taken it in all bad faith. Tonight, I avoided the hoodies on my way home, throwing stink bombs and rotton eggs. In one part of town, fireworks were used as the tricks, aimed at passing cars and reluctant homes, whilst in another, three young inventive children decided to use black bin liners for their costumes. With out thinking to make air holes. The local granny population panicked!

As for little olde moi, I stayed indoors, curtains drawn and gin in hand, whilst cuz watched the football, drowning out any knocks on the front door. I'll wipe the egg shells off the front tomorrow.