Tags
1777, death by fireworks, Founding Fathers, Independence Day, inebriation, July 4, this day in history, true meanings of holidays
On which inebriated Americans from all walks of life honor the nation’s birth with a variety of beloved and time-honored traditions, from bedside vigils in any of America’s many first-rate burn wards to the age old-custom of commemorating those bygone freedom-fighters by sacrificing several fingers in the memory of their valiant struggle.
“It Prolly Hurts Like A Sum’bitch, But After Thirteen Golden Nazis, I Can’t Feel A Thing. Hey, Is Someone Cookin’ Pork Rinds? DAMN, Whatever It Is Sure Smells Good!”
Promethean Times 
Smak,
Christ… That picture hits. Like an American gun.
Le Clown
Hey–they’re the best kind!
And ERs everywhere will be plucking sparklers out of heads.
In all seriousness, sparklers are one of your more dangerous fireworks–at least the cool old, phosphorous ones were. Now they have safety sparklers, which are every bit as thrilling as those “Magic Snakes” that leave a big smear of ash on your sidewalk.
Yeah, the snakes are a bit of a let-down. When I think of the fireworks my unsupervised brother and I used to set off, I get queasy. But I guess we survived with all fingers and toes intact. Neurons? Well, that’s a different story.
This brings a tear to my eye. You make me so proud to be American, Smak.
Well, bless you! Just remember to keep both of those eyes intact this holiday season!
Happy Fourth! Go forth and celebrate 🙂
Fresh pork rinds and explosives?!?
Damn, I’m proud to be an American!
I don’t think that pic could’ve said it better. It makes me wish fireworks were still legal in my home state.
Are you a fellow Californian? I know you must not be from Washington State–with fireworks, anything goes there.
Bloody hell. I spent this 4th like I spend every 4th- at home trying to keep two of my dogs (Clara and Lilo, because Sheena could care less about fireworks) from losing their minds and climbing the walls. All is well for them if they know where Mommy is, and that they are welcome to hide under Mommy’s bed. Sheena pretty much spent the evening snarfing Jerry’s pork rinds and watching zombie movies with him. Even when the denizens of the Drunk and Domestics shoot off bottle rockets (some of which landed in the Cougar Pool) Sheena barely notices.
Even had I not feared for the dogs’ sanity, I wouldn’t have ventured out to a fireworks display last night- or the night before. When it’s 95 degrees at 10 PM, being outside in the heat and humidity amidst a stinking sea of sweaty humanity just ain’t happening. I’ve been taken to the ER for heat stroke twice before, and since I’ve been to the ER (for different reasons) recently, I’d rather not go back to the hospital for any reason for a very long time. I’ll stay in the AC with the dogs. 🙂