All I can say is thank god the fourth is over. I love me some hamburgers, chips and brownies. I even enjoy the occasional sonic boom of fireworks overhead (though I could do without the black clouds that follow) but Jesus Christ on a popsicle stick- if I have to endure another night of boozed up bozos shooting off firecrackers in the street at 1:30am, I'm gonna lose it. Last time I checked, the right to set fires and shoot explosives into the air in the narrow corridor of buildings on a busy city street is not listed in the Declaration of Independence or the Constitution.
Apart from the fact that celebrating our "independence" is about as meaningful these days as celebrating our ability to pick our noses, the combination of alcohol and fire is undoubtedly the only surefire way to lose your eyebrows and a a limb... and I saw the two ambulances across the street last night to prove it. Now let's get on with the rest of the year, shall we?
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Well said sister! Seriously, I'm going to print out this post and tape it to the front door to all of my neighbor's houses. Enough already! Last night I was actually scared of fireworks. It was like a freaking war zone around here! Grr!
(yikes, two ambulances... well, maybe it will be quieter next year :-))
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