Ah, the Fourth of July.
There’s nothing more American spending obscene amounts of money towards blowing pretty shit up to appease the masses. (Bread and circuses are sooooo Roman Empire.) Besides, fireworks show how much we truly care about the environment. And the poor. And our National debt. (Calm down and remember Rule #20 mmk? No matter how much I mock the holiday, I still ADORE it. Even if this leaves me slightly disgusted with myself…)
Buy the ticket, watch the FILM.
(Seriously though. Go do it. Now.) Gonzo, the Hunter S. Thompson documentary, came out today. I thought it was pretty amazing, especially since I didn’t know most of his background story going in. Then again, I can’t objectively say whether or not it was actually a good movie since I’d probably end up enjoying anything that has to do the good Doctor. (This explains why I intend to buy all promotional material for the flick: the movie poster pictured here and a handful of severed kitten heads seared with F&L quotes. Delicious.)
And then there was the BBQ,
and it was good.
Learned something new today: apparently they make jalapeño flavored burger patties. Apparently they are quite delicious.
Many props to Alex-Randy-Viren on being great hosts. I can’t wait to kill you all and claim the house. *ahem* I mean, move in for the school year.
Daft Punk is Playing in My Head, MY HEAD.
The walk back to the Esplanade to watch fireworks was trippy as fuck. Mostly because the medical center at night is absolutely GORGEOUS. You lose yourself in the pretty colors. (And find yourself in the Bright Lights, Big City *happy sigh*) And just so you know, I did actually have Daft Punk and LCD Soundsystem reverberating through my skull the entire time. I was living a James Murphy music video. I can now die happy.
Fireworks. are. visual. orgasms.
I have just decided this.
Soulwax remix, anyone?