It's called fire.
I know my other half is Laotion and my son is half Laotion, but when exactly I became Laotion I cannot say. The realisation dawned on me this morning as I crouched on our balcony faffing around with this contraption, a lighter, some disused kebab skewers, a newspaper and a disgarded plastic nappy bag making toast for half an hour.
It's a bit like that Samuel L. Jackson line in Pulp Fiction when he says, my girlfriend's a vegetarian, which pretty much makes me a vegetarian. My girlfriend's Laotion which pretty much makes me crouch around on a Sunday morning trying to get a fire going.
I wonder if the Communist authorities will go easier on us if I explain that I crouch, if they catch is in our illegitimate relationship, perhaps this is the passport.
Take it East
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