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Fireworks Suck!
By Ninja R and T2, 1-28-04

With Independence Day coming, lots of you will no doubt be purchasing shitloads of explosives, at great expense. With that in mind, T2 and I set out to find out for you, THE READERS, which fireworks were worth having. I mean, if fireworks can't fuck stuff up, then what's the use of buying them?

So…we set forth, determined…men on a mission. Little did we know how much fireworks totally suck these days.

First, we scavenged the local thrift stores. Hoodratz doesn't exactly make much money from this site…OK, we don't make ANY money off this damn thing…and working off a budget of zero means you don't have all this money to buy a big ass Dell computer to blow up…and we all know we'd want to blow up a Dell computer, simply because of the "DUDE UR GETTING A DELL!!!!!~1" guy.

First up, I found a Teletubby. I don't know which fuckin' one this is…wait, yeah, I do. It's the annoying one. "But Ninja R," you exclaim. "They're all annoying!" Exactly, shit head.

Here's T2 showing his more bestial tendencies.

Next, we have some sort of creepy, naked baby doll thing. This thing would freak the fuck out of anyone. No wonder no one wanted it. Well, no one but me. If you look closely, you'll see T2's coffee in the background.

That's my boot knife sticking out of its head.

OOOOO, look what we have next! Some of you younger people out there may not remember the absolute fucking tragedy of these guys, but I DO! Night Ranger! They're the guys who sang Sister Christian. Download it on MP3 if you feel like making yourself involuntarily convulse into vomiting.

Sister Christian, oh, the time has come….and you know that you're the only one to sa-BOOM! This was once The 'Hoo's favorite band. In 2002.

Here's a freaky doll that looks like Chucky from that one "scary" movie. I don't remember what it was called. I really don't give a rat's ass either…it sucked.

T2 snapped this picture of me when I thought I was allllllll alone. Dammit.

Next, our targets were the FUCKING ANNOYING PIECES OF SHIT - the WB frog and Simba. For good measure, we have a smiley face thing that was obviously someone's Christmas present to Mom or Gramma or some shit. Who the hell gives presents like that? My kids had better give me something better than THAT.

What pals they are. Little do they know they have about five minutes left on Earth before complete incineration.

And last, but not least, we have an Eddie Money 45 record thrown in for good measure. Nobody likes that guy anyway. It won't be missed. Hell, it was 50 cents…AND 50 CENT IZ A MEDAFOR 4 CHANGE!!!~!1@#212332

No one could ever seriously like a guy with hair like that. 3VAR!

There was other stuff we bought but didn't take pictures of because we were too damn anxious to fuck shit up. We figured we'd get one last shot of everything together before it was incinerated, blown to pieces, blown away, melted, etc., etc.

If you'll notice, Chucky still has his hands on his crotch. It's a wonder what Superglue will do.

The first victim was a toy tank T2 brought. He rigged that fucker up with the explosives….set it down…and….

AND…

Nothing happened. We stood there, waiting…watching the fuse sizzle into the tank…there was an audible *peh* sound…the top kinda lifted up a little, which didn't really mean much, since we'd dismantled everything before. DAMMIT. Undaunted, we set the baby doll out. Look how fucking creepy this thing is!

This is the doll AFTER the "explosion."

What a load of shit! I could hear the damn things going off…saw a little flash of light…and fucking NOTHING! Shit wasn't flying everywhere like it was supposed to! Remember when you were younger and you could blow your fucking hand off with a couple of Black Cats? Yeah, these Black Cats didn't do SHIT.

MAXIMUM LOAD, MY ASS! YOU CHINESE BASTARDS, SEND US SOME GOOD FUCKING EXPLOSIVES, YOU CHEAP SHITS!

Well…T2 had a great idea. He cut open the WB frog's head open and stuffed a burny whizzy thing in there. At least there was more than just a *peh* this time.

This one is kinda cool. I'm sure a REAL frog wouldn't be tap dancing with its head on fire.

No matter what the hell we did or rigged up, nothing was fucking working. Well, except one thing. Remember the ceramic smiley face thing? Well...T2 rigged it up with a bajillion burny whizzy things and threw a couple of Black Cats in it.

HOLY SHIT THAT IS COOL!

It didn't quite crack up all the way, although some of it busted a little. T2 threw a few more wizzy burny whatever the fuck they're called things in there and more Black Cats.

It's a fucking science, I'm tellin' ya.

NEXT…and oh man, I'd been waiting for this one…was blowing Chucky's little BASTARD HEAD OFF. Oh yeah. Except…well…it kinda sucked.

Here's me trying to get the damn thing to light. Lots of Chucky hair in the way.

It really didn't go off how we wanted it to. We then knew that FIRECRACKERS SUCKED! In agitation, T2 stuffed a couple of burny things in its head.

That really didn't give me very much wood.

What the fuck, man! What a load of crap! What a piece of shit! What shitty luck! We blew up a couple of other things, but it just kinda sucked. Luckily, we still had many many many many sparklers left.

Now…

Some of you may have never heard of sparkler bombs. Email me, I'll tell you how to make 'em. Anyway, we had all that stuff left over…for a purpose. We wanted to blow a hole in the ground. Why? Because blowing holes in shit is cool, stupid. Blowing holes in the ground is equally as cool. And by cool, I mean totally sweet.

So…T2 started taping the sparklers together while I scraped off the sparkler crap from some sticks into a piece of aluminum foil. Finally, we had about four bombs…T2's three and my aluminum foil bomb.

T2 lit the first one….it was…………OK. It was cooler than the whizzy things from earlier, but it just didn't fucking blow up, which was the point of making them. Undaunted, T2 lit another and threw it in the yard.

FFffffffFFFFFFFFFFBOOOOOOM!

The fucking this whizzed around the yard for about a second, flew up in the air and blew right the hell up. It was AWESOME. I ducked into the house, figuring the neighbors would hear. T2 bravely stood his ground…as…the neighbor yelled over, "Hey, are y'all shootin' off fireworks?" T2 quizically asked, "What?" He looked at me. I said, SAY NO, DUDE! Our benefactor, Kelli, who owns the house and yard we were trying to blow up, said, SAY YES! He looked over at the guy who repeated the question. "Yes," he said. The neighbor yelled something about quitting because people were trying to sleep…psh…yeah, people were sleeping at 8:30 p.m. Right.

So…that left us with my bomb and T2's bomb. We gathered up the supplies and went to my house, wondering where to go. We ended up walking to the end of my road, which is a dead end. We lit and threw. Mine went off…it didn't explode, which was disappointing as shit, but it was still kinda cool. T2's……….didn't go off at all. We went back, tossing sticks at it…as if hitting it with a stick would make the bomb decide, "Hey, that's a stick. I think I'll blow up now. Yeah, that sounds great." Anyway, we re-rigged it with a cigarette fuse. Again, nothing. This time, it was for fucking real. I ripped the top off my cigarette pack and shoved it down into the fuse hole. Lit that mother fucker. Took off like a bat outta hell. It finally lit with much light…but was kinda anticlimactic. It didn't blow up or anything either.

This was kinda cool, but it still didn't blow up.

GODDAMMIT! Very few fucking big ass explosions. Remember when you could get Black Cats and bad ass cherry bombs and M-80s?! Shit that would blow your hands off and put your eyes out?! What happened! We've been safened to death, I believe. If safened is even a word. Says me, anyone who blows their hand off in a fireworks accident is a victim of evolution. Survival of the fittest.

Anyway…that wasn't the WHOLE night, but this was the blowing shit up story. Nothing was really blown up besides the guy next door's attitude. You'll have to wait for the rest of the story, which will be up tomorrow, hopefully.

-- Ninja R

Even all this fucking merchandise doesn't blow NEARLY as well as your mother.

Dedicated to Hooker K, who let us use her yard and put up with the stupid shit we did. THANKS, HOOKER!