F'n America

Yeah, America.
Fuck yeah!


I am kinda weirded out this year, this fourth of July.

There is so much totally freaked out shit going down around the world.
Hell, it is going on right here, as well.

I am not even going to start listing stuff off.
It will just depress us both.





Oh, and the year is half over?
Half done, gone, really?
Shit!


Anyway, this god-damned drought has made the county I live in ban the sale and use of fireworks.

I feel as though I should shove a cherry bomb up somebody's bum and light it off, just to puncuate that sentence.

Hell, I can't even find sparklers.



Sure, there will be some giant Latter-Day-Saint sponsored fireworks display a few blocks from my house bigger than anything I could come up with.


Well, I could probably come up with something bigger...


See, I am the kind of American that likes his explosions without Morm-God influences.


I can see God's face in the screaming fire ball from a Roman candle, shot in my direction.

I can feel God's hand in the concussion of a mortar that is perhaps a bit larger than I had imagined.

I can find my own God as I run, like a little girl, from a half lit bundle of bottle rockets - thank you very much.

But not this year...


So, I ask you to get out there and blow some shit up!

And when you get that funny one, that one which might have lit but isn't doing anything, the one with really short fuse, the scary one...

Run back over and light it again...

As you run away, stooped over and half scared...

Think of me.