JVL, Vic, and I probably owe you, our loyal listeners, an explanation as to why we were gone for so long. The answer, of course, is a simple one: We hate you and each other and needed some time apart. But we're back for season 1.5: refreshed, relaxed, ready to bore you to tears with lists and counterintuitive arguments and all that good stuff! Subscribe here, leave a review, etc. Maybe if you leave a bunch this week, JVL will let us resume highlighting the best review each episode.
Anyway, this week we talked a lot about Michael Bay and the Transformers movies: There were laughs and tears and rankings, all the great stuff you loved and/or hated about our dumb podcast. But we also talked about fireworks. And let me tell you something, guys: I hate fireworks.
Look, so, I don't hate fireworks, exactly. The big fireworks displays are pretty cool, I guess, even though I never really go to them: You're surrounded by, ugh, people. (Have you ever been surrounded by people? Nasty creatures, them.) Not really my bag, but hey, go with God.
I do hate residential fireworks displays, however. I hate them with the passion of a thousand burning roman candles. I hate them more than I hate drinking a bad merlot in the owner's box of an NHL game. I hate them more than I hate the Joel Schumacher Batman movies.
I am fascinated/repulsed by the people who think it's cool to set off fireworks at, like, 11:30 at night in the middle of the week. Wow, that tiny little rocket you set off sure did look cool, barely creeping above the apartment complex down the road. You really celebrated America with that one, champ! That's a fantastic re-creation of the rockets red glare or whatever. The noise that you're making—and the babies you're waking, the dogs you're terrifying—is definitely worth the short-lived bright light in the sky. I'm glad your lizard brain is briefly distracted from the never-ending pit of horror that is your life, but, you know, maybe give the rest of us a break?
So yeah, fireworks suck. Mostly, though, people suck.