Special Feature:
Celebrating Independence Like a Bad Motherfucker
Celebrating America's independence is getting harder and harder to do. Each year, states make so many more fireworks illegal, that you're now more likely to die in a fight with a wild bear than by accidental explosion. As a fan of explosions and a representative for public wild bear relations, I'm against that. Imagine our world without explosives. Would Bruce Willis have been able to keep our terrorist-occupied office buildings safe without explosives? I'm sure I'm with the experts when I say "certainly not" while dramatically and miraculously rising out of my wheelchair. And name one thing you can do with a toad's asshole when it isn't stuffed full of a quarter stick of dynamite. Besides donating it to a gay orphanage.
We should know by now that America's freedom needs to be celebrated with the most life-threatening devices we're able to build. To hell with a few dumbasses firecracking their fingers off. Do you think Abraham Lincoln would have put up with British taxes just to keep you with the correct number of fingers on your dumbass hand? The Terminator killed hundreds of people, but did the future ban Terminators? No, it gave them cool sunglasses and sent them on adventures through time. Why are we such pussies? I swear that in two or three more dipshit-related firework injuries, the only way we'll be able to celebrate our great country's freedom is by watching crappy charcoal snakes grow on our driveway under the supervision of government-appointed safety monitors. That's not what George Washington had in mind when he filled the White House's first neighbor's mailbox with fire crackers and ran.
Above: Joyce was elected Fire Chief of my apartment to make sure I flagrantly disregarded everything mankind has ever learned about fire safety. Her mission: successful.
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Some of you live in states where it's still legal to buy things that might kill you. Still others of you live in foreign countries where a rival religious group has already bought something that's probably killed you. For everyone else, like me, exciting fireworks have to either smuggled in illegally or constructed, also maybe illegally. This page will be your preliminary guide to creating your own face rocking pyrotechnics at home by taking you through the monstrosity I built this year.
Above: The future of home detonation. These legal and currently pretty-lame materials cost under $40 not counting the loss of an old childhood friend with the E.T. board game. It's a small price to pay even assuming you could put a price tag on liberty. That's like trying to own a rainbow.
Explosive Tip #1: The key to home firework construction is rubber cement. It lights on fire better than Evel Kneivel. Be careful while buying it, though; some misguided glue scientists created bullshit non-flammable rubber cement. Check to make sure yours says, "Caution: Exremely Flammable," which you'll soon equate to mean "Caution: Your Homemade Firework is About To Kick Something in the Ass."
Explosive Tip #2: Tanks (above: lower middle) are also a staple of firework construction since they have three easy-to-remove multi-staged spark launchers and a small rocket that can shove a Hot Wheels up to twenty feet. They're legal in every state since you practically have to have them go off inside your vagina to do any damage to you. Of course, if you're setting off fireworks in your vagina, you probably want them to hurt, and are Japanese.
Above: The official E.T. game piece getting ready to be exploded.
Not pictured: tiny beads of sweat and soiled diaper.
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The first thing you should do is name your firework. This will help your project have a focus, and get you closer to your incendiary device. Also, if something goes wrong later, you can phone the fire department from Mexico with a disguised voice and have a name to give them regarding the fire that burned down the youth center. And that means that the name of your firework will make it into an actual police report! It also means that a haggard fire inspector might see the evidence and grimly say, "My god. He or she is right. This blaze does have the calling card of... E.T., the Explosive Terrestrial." Then several other fire inspectors might gasp while one of them scratches a record to a halt.
Explosive Tip #3: Hellzapoppin's are green plastic balls that spark and crackle when you light them. Sometimes they're called Ground Blasters. Inside each of them is a small paper bag of highly rad and explosive crackling powder. You should harvest as much of this as possible, since in large amounts it can melt down an entire Sunny Delight jug in under three seconds. These will probably be declared illegal in a few years since each little pop seems to fire directly at the nearest human eyeball.
After you're done disassembling the Hellzapoppin's, don't throw away the green plastic shells. With just a little creativity and a few miniature sticks of dynamite, you can turn regular E.T. into...
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