1 August 2017

Punk Rock Fireworks

The firework show in Dope City never fails to attract one fuck of a lot of spectators. Hell, I even went once.

My punk rock buddies joined our fellow firework lovers one summer in the early '80s.

I would have one of my fellow punk rock buddies tell you the story of our Fireworks Night but none of them remember the experience clearly.

We got a little fucked up. Somebody (not saying who!) had to take a shit and there was nowhere to shit so they shit in the manicured garden outside one of the apartments with one of the best views of the fireworks.

"You can't fucking shit there!" somebody yelled at the shitter.

"Fuck you I can't," the shitter corrected him.

The yeller, a bottom floor dweller, slammed his window closed and ran out to show the shitter he meant business. The shitter's friends were with him by then, having finished pissing on the side of building just out of sight of the yeller.

Steel toe boots. Black leather. Steel belt buckles. Bad fucking attitudes.

The shitting in the garden did not seem so bad all sudden like.

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