If That Ain't American

First off, let me wish the United States of America a very Happy 236th Birthday, you don't look a day over 230.  I want to thank all the men and women who served and are serving for keeping this country safe, awesome and free to do what the hell want.  I also want to wish all my friends on the other side of the pond a Happy Independence Day...what?  too soon?

Geeking out on Independence Day

So today is The 4th of July and if you're not familiar with the workings of the United States of America, this is the day everyone wears flag t-shirts, drinks a ton of beer, eats their weight in processed tubular meat products and blows shit up.  Well almost everyone anyway.  Today is going to be a simple day for me actually, the real festivities are going to be on Saturday night, that's what happens when a National Holiday falls smack in the middle of the week, you need to wait three days to enjoy your tube of lips and assholes on a bun.

NY Niece #1

NY Niece #2

I have taken the past two days off to spend time with the Minions and the Trophy.  We have the Minion's cousins up from New York, proving once again nothing good ever came out of New York, except the Trophy.  She doesn't count thought, she practically lived in Western Mass.

(***DISCLAIMER*** Just joking, my nieces are pretty cool)

 So yesterday we decided to go see the fireworks a few towns over and like Alzheimer patients, we forgot what a nightmare it is bringing a bunch of kids to a cluster fuck event.  It all started in the morning, which went rather well actually.  The Minion's Minions came over, everyone played well with each other and the Trophy and I built closet in the garage for all of our friends to come out of now.  We watched Lion King 2, which was absolutely one of the worst pile of Disney shit ever to come out of that studio and then had good old fashioned chicken nuggets and tater tots for supper.  Why am I telling you about Lion King 2 and our supper?  Simple, it plays into the rest of the story.

Fact:  First Disney character to fart

Everyone knows who Pumbaa is from the Lion King, he's the warthog with the flatulence problem, which in turns reminds everyone of Minion #3.  Now after eating a healthy portion of ground up chicken meat that was breaded and shredded potato products, flash fried and then baked, #3 was potent.  As we all know he is potty training and doing a hell of a job with it, but it amazes me when he drops a turd in the toilet that it is so small, when he shits in his diaper it explodes and makes a gigantic brownish/yellowish mess.  Now that he can fire the stink pickles into the toilet, they are normal looking and small...it's the magic of nature I guess.

Anyway, I didn't come here to tell you that, what I wanted to tell you about was the fireworks festivities that we attended last night.  All in all it was pretty cool and relaxing, a town a few town lines away holds a festival with live music, food and the controlled chaos one would expect from an event like this.  We got there two hours before the fireworks were going to start and staked out our prime real estate.  The best part of getting there early is people watching, I love to people watch.

There was an abundance of different types of people ranging from the 50+ year old bikers who think they are still hot with their beer bellies and wrinkly cleavage (and that's just the guys) to the idiotic hipsters wearing their knitted hats in the 80 degree weather (no wonder they are dumb, they fried their brains, they look like Waldo and we're trying to find them).  There were the typical teenage cliques (we were all there once) and the imported cowboys, wearing the stetsons, Garth Brooks shirts and boots (even though they have probably never even seen a cow).  It was great people watching weather and let's just say the Chicken Theory was in full effect last night (remember that term Chicken Theory, you'll need it later on).

There we sat, camped out on a bed sheet and camp rocking chairs, enjoying out Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle ice cream bars and Nutty Buddies from the snack shack.  The local soccer team was going around selling glow sticks for a buck a piece and the fire department was collecting for next year's fireworks.  It was the typical small town in New England 4th of July festival, and it was nice.  The fireworks were the same as every other fireworks display you've ever witnessed in your life (minus the gazillion dollar Disney-works that the Disney freaks get to see every year), the traffic sucked getting out of there and the kids were tired, cranky, whiny and smeared with the remnants of ice cream.  But it was fun.

Happy Fourth of July!

Oh and by the way, thank you to everyone who voted for me over at Dude Write, I didn't place this week, mainly because the posts that were entered were way more fantastic than mine, but if you didn't get a chance to read all about your testosterone problem, feel free to.