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Just managed to get this in on time before november kicks in (here at the moment its 11:50pm)
This is
and 
all playing with sparklers for bonfire night which here in the uk is november the 5th when guy fawkes tried to blow up parliment but failed. im not sure why we celebrate a failed terrorist attack but we do so errr yeah...
If anyone isnt already on my birthday list let me know and i'll add you to my spreadsheet, not many november furs yet (you dont hafta be a babyfur to be on the list) but i'm sure that'll change.
This is
and 
all playing with sparklers for bonfire night which here in the uk is november the 5th when guy fawkes tried to blow up parliment but failed. im not sure why we celebrate a failed terrorist attack but we do so errr yeah...If anyone isnt already on my birthday list let me know and i'll add you to my spreadsheet, not many november furs yet (you dont hafta be a babyfur to be on the list) but i'm sure that'll change.
Category All / Baby fur
Species Unspecified / Any
Size 900 x 1200px
File Size 526.3 kB
mine's September 20th :D and since i LOVE guy Fawkes day i shal recite the poem: -ahem- "remember remember the 5th of November, the gun-powder treason and plot, i know of no reason why the Gunpowder Treason
Should ever be forgot. Guy Fawkes, Guy Fawkes, 'Twas his intent. To blow up the King and the Parliament. Three score barrels of powder below. Poor old England to overthrow. By God's providence he was catch'd,
With a dark lantern and burning match
Holloa boys, Holloa boys, let the bells ring
Holloa boys, Holloa boys, God save the King!
Hip hip Hoorah !
Hip hip Hoorah !
A penny loaf to feed ol'Pope,
A farthing cheese to choke him.
A pint of beer to rinse it down,
A faggot of sticks to burn him.
Burn him in a tub of tar,'
Burn him like a blazing star.
Burn his body from his head,
Then we'll say: ol'Pope is dead."
yes i copy pasted the rest of the poem... i had no idea it was such a long poem... but i found thank god for google
Should ever be forgot. Guy Fawkes, Guy Fawkes, 'Twas his intent. To blow up the King and the Parliament. Three score barrels of powder below. Poor old England to overthrow. By God's providence he was catch'd,
With a dark lantern and burning match
Holloa boys, Holloa boys, let the bells ring
Holloa boys, Holloa boys, God save the King!
Hip hip Hoorah !
Hip hip Hoorah !
A penny loaf to feed ol'Pope,
A farthing cheese to choke him.
A pint of beer to rinse it down,
A faggot of sticks to burn him.
Burn him in a tub of tar,'
Burn him like a blazing star.
Burn his body from his head,
Then we'll say: ol'Pope is dead."
yes i copy pasted the rest of the poem... i had no idea it was such a long poem... but i found thank god for google
My Birthday is this month too. I'd say Yay! except uh... that means I'm another year older. Meh. Birthdays are best when you are seven and have no idea whats inside all the gifts , you have a billion other people there to celebrate, you don't even know some of the people who showed up, and the cake isn't a lie.
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