Still Figurin' Out Who I Think I Am

This one's about fire, fire, FIRE!

Happy Independence Day, folks! And for those of you who are just experiencing another weekend, Happy Saturday! Saturdays are by far the worst day to blog in the history of WDC, because it's a weekend and there should be at least 45 better things to do than sit at the mercy of an electronic device. You've gotta trust me on this...I've been blogging for like seven and a half years, and have been in numerous challenges and groups, and I've probably received a total of 13 comments on Saturdays. Dyin' for my art, I tell ya.

My whole will to want to write a blog entry today is also perilously close to being at an all-time low as well...I suppose if I wasn't in something like the "30 Day Image Prompt Contest - CLOSED"  I'd probably take the weekend off, but it's been awhile since I actually recorded thirty straight days of blogging. Even if no one's gonna read this because they're busy blowin' shit up, I made a commitment and I guess I'm determined to see it through. But four days into a month and I'm already kinda bored and slightly apathetic...I'm having issues deciding whether I just don't care today or the provided image prompts aren't doin' anything for me.

I went with the fire image because it's more exciting, although the potential for the other image   to get quickly out of hand is exceedingly high, but I'm determined to keep my blog's rating at 18+. I also don't think most of my readers really care to read girl-on-girl erotica...at least not in this slice of internet cherry cheesecake.

So anyway, there's a burning house. I don't like burning houses because they remind me of people who were once close to me that lost a ton of memories when their side of the duplex they were living in caught on fire. It's a real buzzkill. Because of that, I think this image is more appropriate:

Contrary to popular belief, I don't often plan these entries out. There's no diagrams or outlines or secret schematics; I might make a few notes because there are lines I might want to use, or relevant links or songs, but I don't have solid ideas...which is why a lot of the time I end up with long-winded, rambling diatribes on totally unrelated topics. Like today's dumpster fire of an attempt at writing.

I went into the CVS across the street from my building yesterday, which is nothing new because I'm usually in there 3-4 times a week, but I hadn't been there since probably Monday. As soon as you walk in, there's a huge display of fireworks...legit, real, blow shit up fireworks. New York recently passed some kind of law making it legal to buy, sell, and use these explosives for recreational purposes. I stood there for what seemed like an eternity, unable at first to comprehend what I was seeing in a pharmacy...in all the years I spent working in one, it was the most unexpected sight. The cashiers behind the counter must've thought I was some kind of slow, even though I'm pretty sure they know me as a regular customer.

I'm not a fan of fireworks. Call me unpatriotic, but they're loud and boring...for a society raised on staring at a television or computer screen for hours on end, that can spend entire weekends binging on Netflix, I can't imagine what's so exciting about them. And please don't try to educate me or show me the errors of my ways; it's unbecoming, especially because I don't give a shit.

The ready availability of fireworks can't be a good thing...primarily if I'm using them to go down a rabbit hole of ridiculous blog-rambling. Surely the number of fireworks-related incidents in this area will probably, pardon the word, skyrocket. Some trust-fund kid with irresponsible parents is probably gonna blow his eyeballs out, our litigious society's gonna cry party foul, and within five years everyone will be back to going to Pennsylvania or Ohio to get their explosives. Call it NY's Confederate Flag Debate of 2019.

Some silly-ass redneck moron in this community will take things too far, and think it'd be funny to see what happens when he gets drunk by 6pm and can't wait until sunset or to get outside to light up his fireworks. He'll probably try to make a watermelon or half a can of Coors Light explode, and in the process wind up turning his residence into a living, breathing Aurora Borealis. Fuck that guy, ruinin' all the other responsible people's fun. I know there's stupid people everywhere, but I don't think I've ever lived in a community that has so many openly flamboyant ones. And I by no means am perfect or dealing with a full set of common sense at the ready, but I'm pretty sure when it comes to not setting anything else but the end of a cigarette on fire today I've gotta be in the top ten percentile of geniusness.

"July 4th is one of our no-prompt holidays here at the BCOF. Enjoy your day and be careful! "

"Create me something-- anything using these words: heat wave, bubbly, laughter, red, white, blue and firefighter. Pick some or use them all but let your creativity take you wherever."

Leave it to Lyn's a Witchy Woman to out-Creation Saturday prompt me! I'm really not great at coming up with prompts in the first place, and I should've just looked in the 30-Day War Chest to see if there was anything explosion-related, but I got a word (freedom) stuck in my head and that's where I went. Sorry guys.

And typically I avoid the "use these words" prompts because I'm kinda lazy and particular, and they feel like when you would walk into an English class and the teacher'd be all like "Ok class, today the only thing I want you to do is spend the entire period writing"...and 90% of the room ends up with two sentences and doodles of flaming dinosaurs with sunglasses on, skateboarding and eating teddy bears. Good looks, hot shots. Anyway, for your consideration:

The local firefighters were busy during the annual heat wave. As the temperature flew into the red on the weather map this time of year, they knew they'd be battling brush fires until they were blue in the face. Even at night, the conditions were so unstable that the slightest spark could reduce a park section into a pile of white and grey ash. Eventually, they ascertained with fits of worn out and delusional laughter, there would be nothing left of substance to burn, and before the rebuilding would begin the firemen agreed they would celebrate their hard work by ordering some strippers for their fire pole and poppin' mad bottles of bubbly.

There...that wasn't so bad.

I am making absolutely no apologies for this song probably being in the top five all-time of the most posted in any of my blogs. When (not if) I become a world-famous Blog Champ and some company decides to maximize my marketing potential with stuffed dolls, notebook covers, and thongs, this slow-burnin' jam will be on the first (of many) officially licensed soundtracks available on iTunes and out of jeep trunks across the globe.

"The roof...the roof...the roof is on fire.
We don't need no water; let the motherfucker burn.
Burn motherfucker, burn."
Lyrics.  

I didn't know or realize this until last night, but there are apparently ten different kinds of fireworks effects  . I still don't care, and I still think it's dumb, pointless entertainment.

For those of you into random stats and occurrences, here's a list of a bunch of things that have happened on July 4th  . You don't see Grateful Jess 's name on this list, but word on the street is that today's her birthday. She gets a birthday shoutout here because hers is easy to remember.

Today is also the Nathan's Hot Dog Eating Contest  ...only in America could we invent a competitive eating contest that we would annually lose to a skinny little Chinese dude, which is why my favorite hot dog game (don't we all have one?) is guessing if these are pictures of hot dogs or people's legs  .

And finally, it's time for my annual public service announcement where I wish you all a fun Independence Day and warn you not to lose your fingers or faces. Be safe, don't overdo too many things, and remember to stop, drop, and roll.

And that's it for me today. I'm gonna celebrate by probably forgetting about fireworks entirely until they startle the living shit outta me, and hope I don't have some sort of PTSD anxiety attack waiting absolutely too long for them to finish. Peace, if man is 5 and the devil is 6, and GOODNIGHT NOW!!