Fireworks (aka That Time Of Year When My Two Biggest Fears Team Up)

[noun; ~ Pronunciation: /fahyuh r-wurks/]

  • Definition: A lethal toy in the wrong hands, which shouldn’t be sold to minors and/or idiots, but which is otherwise nice to watch explode, with all those bright colours in a dark sky.

“I had enough fireworks and chaos. It is a blissful boring life, believe me”Dax Shepard

As fears are concerned, I am scared of snooty teenage brats. They’re unpredictable and resent any form of morale.
Another thing I am scared of is setting off fireworks. It seems like every year people around me attempt to break the previous year’s record regarding firework related injuries, regardless of whether or not it includes themselves (meaning: nobody is safe!).

But what absolutely terrifies me, is snooty teenage brats with fireworks! Seriously, it should be forbidden for them to be in the possession of such “toys”! Let’s face it: 99% of them doesn’t know how to handle fireworks, or think it’s okay for them to play with the illegal kinds. Or build firework bombs themselves. Because hey, all those stories about self-made bombs blowing up in your own face surely don’t apply to them, right!?

And that’s just when things go bad for themselves. I haven’t even gotten to the part where each year idiots torment animals, such as house cats on the loose. There have been disgusting stories in which snooty teenage brats thought it’d be fun to tie a rocket to a cat’s tail, for instance. Or throw blasters at cars, damaging them (and I just got my own car and it’s outside because we don’t have enough room in our garage! I’m totally paranoid and near the point where I’ll run outside with my dad’s axe and have a stake out near my car, chasing everyone away who as much as looks at it).

The worst brats, though, are the ones that think it’s hilarious to throw fireworks at elderly people. A few years ago I worked in a supermarket and at one point people didn’t dare to step outside: a group of snooty firework brats had taken stand in front of the exit and were targeting everyone.

We sent out our buffest looking, tallest, angriest manager who threatened to call the police on them if they didn’t leave.

It worked. For five minutes. And it’s a recurring thing, too, for they keep doing it every year; if one generation grows tired of it, a younger team takes over. The fun never stops.

Can someone please spell “responsibility” for them?

I think, all in all, I might just not be a very festive person. I always go over of all the bad sides to a holiday and take it from there, and maybe that’s not the best way to experience them. But people in my country, especially the snooty brats, don’t realise that, during the transition from one year to another, what they see as playful, harmless fun is in fact a dangerous hobby. One that includes fire and explosive powder, and should be handled with care at all times, fun or not!

The newspapers are already full of horror stories; kids losing hands because they set off illegal fireworks. Adults building their own highly explosive bombs and keeping them in the room next to their nursery (over 200 kilograms worth of self-made fireworks being stored next to where your baby sleeps… talk about having brains)! And it’s not even midnight, yet!

Fireworks… I like looking at them, but I don’t want to have anything to do with them myself. Let the idiots blow each other up, but let them not hurt innocent bystanders.

I, for one, am glad my sister has locked up her cats and children, and that I’ve done the same with my parents. Unless the snooty brats set our house on fire (I truly hope they won’t), we’ll be safe. Unadventurous, but safe.

And with ten toes and ten fingers, I’ll be all ready for the new year! Bring it on! 🙂

I wish everyone a healthy and great 2016! Be grateful, be happy, and above all: be safe! 🙂


Come on, leave a comment! You know you want to...

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.