Fireworks stupidity

caps
DON’T STICK LIT FIREWORKS IN YOUR ASS
DON’T STICK LIT FIREWORKS IN YOUR ASS
DON’T STICK LIT FIREWORKS IN YOUR ASS
… STICK LIT FIREWORKS IN YOUR ASS
… STICK LIT FIREWORKS IN YOUR ASS
… STICK LIT FIREWORKS IN YOUR ASS
BE SURE TO STICK LIT FIREWORKS IN YOUR ASS

When you do not have a bottle for your bottle rocket, you need to come up with an “out of the box” solution. This is creative problem solving!

(Directions! We don’t need no stinkin’ directions!)

Video Number Nine is the most surreal; like it was out of a Bugs Bunny cartoon. But he’s polite to the camera…I wonder if he’s a Canadian?

So you need a girl…

Number nine IMO is a fake. Note the light turned off mysteriously turns back on. I bet he’s a fake Canadian, too!

In Beyond the Body Farm, forensic pathologist Bill Bass tells how he was summoned to the remains of an illegal firework factory in (IIRC) Tennessee. Something like 20 people had been killed instantaneously when a mixer set off a spark and caused the entire building to, well, abruptly disintegrate at high velocity.

They got a body count by sorting out all the legs they found within a 500 meter distance or so. If the leg was shaved, they figured it belonged to a woman. Unshaved, probably a man’s. The remains were so scattered and pulverized there were only a couple of people they could identify by dental records. The rest were identified by partial tattoos, shredded clothing, skin color, hair, prostheses and other items. I believe the author mentioned they called in forensic pathologists and county coroners from all the surrounding counties, and it still took them more than a week on-site to find everything and months more in the laboratories to literally piece things back together and give the victims’ kin something to bury.

Please, guys, don’t fuck with the explosives.

I liked #11 (“How to wake up a drunk redneck”).

When I was a kid, a neighbour who worked at fireworks factory put on a terrific show every Canada Day, up until the year the factory kaboomskied.

Definitely fake. His entire shirt turned black from the blast, yet the aluminum foil is still bright and there are no soot or burn stains on the table.

You ain’t usin’ mine…

You need a REALLY DRUNK girl…

I would have thought any woman dumb enough to launch fireworks from her vagina would at least be smart enough to post the video on a pay-per-view basis. But I would probably be wrong.

We nearly lost our entire house (though it was New Year’s Eve, not J4).

We heard a hissing sound - reminiscent of dragging a heavy cardboard box over concrete - then thought nothing more. 5 minutes later the smoke detectors all went off.

While I called 911, Typo Knig looked around and found the fire: in our back yard, in a pile of damp mulch just outside the back door.
Some sort of flying device - illegal in our state - had apparently misfired. The next day, we saw the dent in our aluminum siding where it had bounced off the back of the house.

One foot to the right or two feet to the left, and it would have gone through the window into our family room - where we had some boxes of papers stacked.

Thank heaven for damp mulch and poorly insulated walls (that let enough smoke in to set off the detectors).