Idiots on my Street

Idiots on my street
It is not even the Forth of July weekend yet, and already the morons on my street are lighting off illegal fireworks at night. Pop. Pop. Pop. Fire Crackers pop for an hour at a time, one after another.

Look, I liked fireworks as much as the next American does. Here in Michigan, however, there are laws that make some fireworks illegal. Usually if they explode, leave the ground, or could separate a few fingers from the rest of your hand, they are illegal. Where I live, only about forty-five minutes from Indiana, people make a "run to the border" to pick up a cheap bag of the illegals to blast away on the 4th of July.

But MAN, do these idiots have to light them off all the damn time? Pop Pop Pop. I can just imagine the manly glee the tiny puffs of exploding paper and gunpowder has on them. Pop. "Wheee!" Pop. "HU! HU! HU! Me Like!" Pop. "Ah-nuder One, George! AH-NUDER ONE!" Pop. "Me am SO happy." Pop. "Me wuv ‘dem poppers! Durrr…."

Idiots.

So why does it bother me so much? Oh, I don’t know, a little thing called SLEEP.

About that picture. Found it online. But I think the idiot about to launch a bottle rocket from his butt crack probably lives on my street.