fall, go boom!

In the continuing episode of, "My Family the Geniuses" I forgot to mention this part in my post about last Saturday's drunken celebration of our nation's Independence from those damn Brits. (Whoo-hoo. London. Suck-ass.)

Anyway. As I was saying.

So my parents have a big house that sits on a corner lot and has a very large yard. Across the street sits some industrial businesses, i.e. businesses with vacant parking lots on a Saturday afternoon. i.e. perfect location to shoot things that explode. So in our infinite wisdom we use the opportunity (every year) to use the vacant lots to explode things (that go, boom and we say, pretty.) My brothers talk on walkie talkies to insure the coast is clear as one stands in the yard and the other runs across the street, hide behind the building, and then lights the exploding stick of firework excitement while my sister-in-law and I sing the song to "Mission Impossible." (Oh. Admit it. You want to be invited next year.)
This year there was only one misfire. (Aside from the tree episode. The neighbors coming over to join in the festivites. Oh. And the family fight with the (stupid) step-siblings.) (Other than that, only one misfire.) It occurred when I heard my younger brother (across the street lighting the stick of flammable flames) say, "Oh, shit" into the walkie talkie and then we see the flaming stick of sparkly flame shoot sideways across the parking lot instead of up in the air and over the building to show the beauty of the flames. When I say, "sideways" I mean it (the flamming stick of sparkles) was aiming straight for things flammable as, (in case you weren't paying attention,) I said, "industrial buildings" when I mentioned the businesses across the street. As in, sparkles of flames hit them and they would go boom! and we wouldn't be alive to say, "pretty."

Oh yeah. Our combined IQ when the family is all together drinking is low. Like, where's the bib to wipe the drool, low. But we sure have a damn good time and (for the most part) no one gets hurt and no one has ever lost an eye and that's sayin' something. (I'm sure it's saying something I'm just not sure what exactly, but it's sayin' somethin'.)

As for the actual fourth. Well, it was a Wednesday. Not much a person can do when I, along with everyone else, has to work before and after and I have to move in a few weeks. So. I worked on my tan, read "1984" and "Sex, Drugs, and Coco-Puffs," (good combo of reading material) packed, watched a marathon of "Monk," ordered a pizza, drank beer, watched the various fireworks from my balcony. It was actually quiet lovely. Boring. Perhaps. But relaxing.

How about you?

Oh. Sorry about the no, dorking. I'll catch you next week. Promise.