Jesus Came To My Birthday Party

This is one of the first "normal" Fourth of July's I've had.
I ate Taco Bell and went outside with Andrew and Neeley to shoot off fireworks.
Well.
To watch them being shot off.
Because I have a fear of fire, fireworks, anything that involves explosions and fire of any kind.
Maybe because I got shot in the arm with a bottle rocket when I was a kid.

Maybe.

Two years ago, I spent ole' independence day having sex with Eric for the first time after eating pizza and playing poker with Sarah's family.
Good times.

Then last year, I went to Jonesboro to watch a lame firework show with my ex-boyfriend. He kept looking at my boobs and grabbing me the whole time. And it took us 2 hours to get home because of traffic. And I had to pee the whole time.
Not fun.

I was supposed to "get it in" tonight...but I guess that's a no-go.

Bummer.

I don't even get excited anymore.

Hell, I don't even shave my thighs extra good anymore because I know that I'll spend all the time making sure my goodies are smooth for nothing.
Sad story.

I really don't understand fireworks.
Why spend $20-$100's of bucks on something that goes into the air in smoke and pops?
It's throwing away money.
I mean...at least potheads and crackheads get something out of their smoke.
I understand that.
But fireworks....
Stupid.

That's all I got for now.
Rrrrealllyyyy boring blog.

I might not even go re-read this shit.
And that's pret-tea bad.

Peace.