Tag Archives: inebriation

Firewater Fireworks

Fireworks-Idiot

In general, the lower the IQ the greater the thrill from fireworks and twinkly noisy thingies.

Word from the western front arrived early. It was going to be a “heat advisory” kind of a day. We hunkered in our bunkers and prepared for the worst. I put on a pair of clean tighty whities. Because:

To brine thine own self be true.

–Tom B. Taker

I was already looking forward to the salt water sores in my private areas. You know what they say. “Fight ’em over there or in your underwear.” Like always I choose the latter.

Day 1

Sunday night the neighbor set up a table saw in his front yard. He ran that sucker until 11:36 pm. On a work night. I kid you not. I believe this is the exact storyline of the movie Saw.

Day 2

Even more table saw. It was all squee … squee … squee … when the hours were wee.

What every happened to politeness? Basic manners? Please and thank you? All as dead as my peace of mind and peace and quiet.

Two nights of noise in a row. The urge to fling poo was becoming unbearable. Somehow, though, I was able to hold on.

But, little did I know it at the time, those two nights were merely flanking feints. The best was still yet to come.

Boom Shack-A-Lak!
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Here’s To Good Fiends

loud-barI’m in the mood to sing!

Here’s to good fiends
Tonight is kinda special
Where are we?
What the hell is going on?
Crop circles in the armpit
Sinking, feeling
Spin me around again
And rub my eyes
This can’t be happening
Mm, what’d you say?
Mm, that you only meant well
Well of course you did
Mm, what’d you say?
Mm, that it’s all for the best
Of course it is
Mm, what’d you say?
Mm, that it’s just what we need
You decided this
Mm, what’d you say?
Mm, what did she say?
The beer we pour must say something more
Because from yelling my throat is sore
Your lips move and I can’t hear what you say

Leaving the small town for the big city did have one unfortunate side effect: We left all of our friends behind this presented a problem, especially since I stubbornly refuse to make new ones.

Thus, when old friends come to town, we’re excited to see them. “We should get together,” we say with genuine enthusiasm.

“Great. Meet us at the Chinese restaurant/karaoke bar, Saturday night, 9pm.”

Oh, shit. I want to die.
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