Oh Hai, Explosions Anyone?

Bloggers, how the hell ya been?!

*Blows confetti out the back door*
(and not the one with the knob if you know what I mean. Although, I can assure you I have no knob, cept those two that rest atop my chesticles)

As most of you know (unless you're hiding in a cave banging a polar bear), last weekend was the 4th of July here in America - Ya know, when we get all redneck-style drunk, eat sausages, and blow shit up as we tear over how beautiful of a celebration it is, or rather it's just the liquor making us cry. Whatever it may be, it can get emotional. Esp. if the explosions are too much to handle........ and this year in my neck of the woods, they certainly were!

Now, if I hadn't mentioned it before, my next door neighbor works for the light company. A few years back he lost his strict & overbearing father and has since gone right back to the good ol' age of 16, partying in the garage with his grown sons on a daily basis, drinking massive quantities of beer, and blowing up the whole neighborhood with illegal explosives.

So, three years ago Mahk decides he's going to outdo the entire town and their cheesy town fireworks display with his display and a block party that has since expanded to an open house bash between 4 neighborhood houses with an attendance way into the triple digits.

We just happen to have the best seat in the whole neighborhood every year because they go off right over our backyard, and this is only a taste.

That noise after the explosion is the friggin' enormity of the neighborhood shindig.

A bunch of us were watching the fountain of fire shoot up from the trailer while fusion bombs went through the sky & we actually just lost it laughing. You didn't know what else to do. I've seen fireworks shows, big & small, all over the place my whole life, and none of us had ever seen anything like it.

My mother's a bit wild at heart, even pushing 60, and had my poor 80 year old grandparents in the corner sitting through this. My lil nana has very high anxiety & heart rhythm problems, got very scared, and, well, it kind of pissed me off my mother was that stupid.

Now, there were a few friends & family members occupying my house & backyard (about 25 or so), and here you can see the party gone wild & hear my super twit sister suggest we should have opened our yard to hundreds of sweaty drunk college kids with terrible Boston accents. 

Silly bitch....

You're grammatically incorrect, sistarella. It's "YAAAHHHD", not "YARD", queeftaht. Go back to Nebraska!

(We don't really get along too well. She's a flake & I'm a hardass. It's like oil & water)

"I'm gonna spread sum fuckin' butta all over this heah stah spankgled banna, guy. Where's my beeah, and a fourk I can stiab some assbag heah in the face with, guy?"

Gotta. Love. The. North Shore

Did you know I made it through about 10 minutes of "The Depahted" before I started looking for where my vest full of grenades & machine guns were at?

Quit talking like that! It makes you look frackin fucked up & uncivilized.

Boston, Connecticut, Rhode Island, parts of New Hampshah & Maine, you heard me...
(And try not to take offense with this from someone who's been living here their whole life. Unless you have the heavy accent. Then go take some speech classes fer christsake)

Jersey & New Yawk, don't get me stahted. You're certainly not safe.

Whew! You know what... I really flew of topic here, but that explosion's been waiting to happen for a while.
Ever since Lily DiCaprio showed up on my screen trying to be like Chaalie from down the street.

Welcome to the north east! We have baboons & beer! And lots & LOTS of Yuengling, guy!

ONWARD!!

Here are some bewbs to keep your attention.

No. Fucking. Way!
I would beat your ass with your own shoes if you ever came around me wearing these.

You know...... this whole post is just failing terribly! Gawd!


Now, look. Even though last year I was in sunny Florida for 3 weeks during the 4th, I was quite bummed I wasn't here for Mahk's end of the world block pahty, and also that when trying to make the fireworks display down in Seminole County, my GPS took me to an empty church parking lot - "Just shut up & pray for fireworks, buoy. That's how we see light in the sky down here in Molesterville".

I don't know what sort of divine intervention happened next, but my flight to come home was scheduled for the evening of July 4th, and when I tell you that plane came down from over the clouds precisely at 9:00 P.M., I mean just in time for me to see fireworks displays ALL over Connecticut, Rhode Island, and Boston from all the little backyard displays to all the the big shot shows on the water all at once, all from an airplane.

And if that wasn't enough of a dream come true, the Boston Harbor display was in full swing when I landed at Logan.

Actual shot from the airplane window touching down on the runway.

I can check that off from my list now! Fireworks across 3 states from an airplane.


Since I've spent so much time screwing around here, let's get on to This Week In Twitter
(Or last week, or maybe even two weeks ago. I've been a slacker)

Because it's all fun & games until somebody goes insane. Then it's REALLY FUN!!

You're not really gone, though, until you actually turn the photo in with a review.
Not like I actually did that.........
(Though, you should know me better because I totally did)

Your beaver bit my beaver & now there's gonna be words.

Maybe I've gotten too personal here.

Tell me the story of your life. Is that too personal for you?!

Blah, blah.

Ooohh....


JACKPOT!

A step up from my future brother-in-law who falls UP the stairs on a weekly basis.
(He's okay. Sort of. He never really was to begin with)

Right about now, I feel like one of those psychological test subjects in an auditorium full of medical scientists.

What if I told them my fruit turned to sandy clam shells in my hand & the escalator took you through the wall, but rather beat me into the wall because I had magnets in my shoulder, which totally must have manifested from this brilliant & hilarious post by The Snee.

I bet you those scientists would pay big bucks for a test subject who's consumed as much acid as me in the 90's. See, that's the 60's backwards. Think about it.



So, speaking of too much acid in the 90's...

A whole nother subject for its own special post, let's leave it at that, and "Shockin' the Cockin'"
(Speaking of which, I should tell my dear bro I have now seen a new shock plug that'll help him "Shockin' the Colon" too)

So........

Think of Wile E. Coyote, cept' with the bang (or rather, consecutive bangs) before the loud whistle as he plummets into the core of the earth.

Not everything can be perfect. My first car was a lawn mower.

So in concluding this post for today, some of the upcoming posts here should somewhat consist of; my vegetable jungle progress, my sister's bridal shower & preparation for her wedding, a hokey music festival in the slums, and so on...

Now I know this all seems quite lame, but c'mon, guys, it's me. 

(I don't know why I just felt like saying "Crazy Carl")

It's bound to be fucked up & entertaining.

So, I hope ya'll had a really great 4th & of course a happy Canada Day ;~}, and I leave you with our cheesy town fireworks display's grand finale captured in really poor quality. 

You're so welcome!