G.H.E.T.T.O. Part II

For the uninitiated, the title is a reference to this song.  As for the initiated, we all know that part 2 is better for than part 1.  This post may not be better than than part I, but it aspires to be.

I hate fireworks.  Yes, I do.  I hate fireworks.  How ‘bout you?

Since Tuesday or Wednesday night, we have been hearing fireworks booming away.  For some reason, people are lighting them fireworks up even when it’s not the 4th of July yet.  People!  Stop the stupidity already.  Yes, I know there are a lot of pyromaniacs, but please the save the noise pollution, garbage pollution and hand burns for the actual Independence Day.  You make my blood boil.  You scare my son.  You make me so angry.  Stop before I pop a cap in you (after I do the wind).

Ghetto inhabitants = Ghetto City.

It’s time to write a letter to the city (after I write to them about getting FIOS in the city) about this ridiculous and dangerous tradition with allowing fireworks in the hands of people who have no business handling fire.  We were at one of the mom’s group’s house celebrating July 4th, and do you know how many airborne (i.e. illegal) fireworks we saw fly up in the air in that small area while we were there?  Within a block, there was at least 3 house doing their own airborne fireworks show.  I’m sure the fools firing them off had fun, while risking their limbs and their neighbor’s house.  But who cares about that when I can get a little pathetic boom in the sky.

Ask Caleb what he thinks about fireworks?  “Scared,” as he pats himself.  I had a son who wanted to be “bao bao” much of the time cause of “fun” fireworks. 

It’s past midnight, and the booms still ring out in the background.  I hate fireworks.  I really do.

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