An explosively good time

Lighting gasoline on fire is every bit as fun as it is dangerous. I'm sure my singed leg hairs would agree with me, were they capable of expressing an opinion.

The week of July fourth, the official B-Street holiday, was amazing to say the least. Chaos ensued. Legions of undead battled it out. Fires raged. Beers were consumed, s'mores devoured. A great time was had by all, and the one night of sleeping in the woods without tents, sleeping bags, blankets, or any of the other usual equipment actually worked out pretty well.

This entire week has served to remind me why I moved back home. Not that I really needed a reminder.