Lets Read
speaker
7,275 appearances
8 recordings
1 series
first heard Jul 2026
last heard 15 Sep
Lets Read’s voice in public audio — every appearance, attributed to the second.
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recordings per month · last 12 monthsRecordings per month over the last 12 months — 8 in all, peaking in Aug 2026 with 4.
Appearances
Unfortunately, the neighbor had been storing a whole bunch of aerosol cans and fuel in his shed, which he really wasn't supposed to do, which had led to the fire being far more serious than was likely intended and far more dangerous.
The reason that the owner hadn't fled the house was because he was actually away, staying with his son upcountry.
and you'll be pleased to know that the cat was fine and was the first to flee.
Now, I can't be sure, but I'm absolutely certain that the trio who set the fire to the hedge were also the ones who burned the shed.
When they'd been walking past number 20, some of their vulgarity had been directed at the man who lived there in the house, so they clearly knew him, and there was a nearby pub which had CCTV cameras, and of course it wasn't working at the time, so nobody was identified.
The arsonist, or arsonists, were never caught, but I know who it was.
It was the drunk alcoholic smokers who recklessly threw burning cigarette butts around.
And so just after our street had stopped stinking of a burning hedge, it started stinking of a burning shed.
That was a fun year, with the smell of burning everything permeating our lives.
At least nothing else had caught fire for nearly two decades now, and if it does, then I'm going to leave it up to other members of the neighborhood watch to go heroically diving into those flames.
I don't recommend it, and I think I exhausted my luck when I almost caught on fire the first time.
But you know, if I'm ever forced to save a cat from the flames, I can't promise I won't dive into that inferno again.
More than 35 years ago now, back during the hunting season of 1992, my buddy Josh and I drove out to Belmont County to try and bag ourselves a couple of wild turkeys for Thanksgiving, and I remember it like it was yesterday.
I was 22, he was 23, and we both had jobs in a mill down in Wheeling.
Him on the line and me hauling scrap.
And the pay wasn't great, but it kept the lights on and fridge stocked, and since we each worked four on and four off, it gave us plenty of time to head off hunting once the season started.
That year, I told my mom that I'd bring a turkey over on Thanksgiving morning so she could have it stuffed and roasted come dinner time.
But then, like I said, to save a couple of bucks, we figured that we'd kill two birds with one stone and turn what should have been a grocery store run into a hunting trip.
Now I had this old 78 F-150 at the time, a total rust bucket, but tough as an old boot too.
So after loading it up with our shotgun and cooler full of beers and cold cuts, we hit the road before dawn, heading east out into the woods before the sun had even risen.
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