Leftridge: Happy 4th, Unless Obama Has His Way

coverObamaThe hardest part about celebrating America’s Independence Day isn’t grilling the perfect hamburger, or selecting an appropriate array of beers to wow your guests. It’s not trying to keep your dog from nervous-urinating all over your carpet at the sound of the explosions or trying to decide which civic or corporate display to go see. (I grew up watching Worlds of Fun’s celebration from far away, sitting on a hill with a bunch of other low-rent dirt-bag families.)

Anymore, it’s about dealing with the declining personal liberties of our once great nation. To put it bluntly, you can’t light off your own fireworks almost anywhere anymore, without feeling the wrath of an overzealous local police department. Not even in the comfort of your own living room:

041116_monsterTB.grid-6x2Look, I get it: setting off indoor fireworks isn’t the safest thing in the world. But you know what? Neither is a Monster Thickburger from Hardee’s and if I want to eat two of those things like I did for lunch today, is it any of the government’s business? I don’t fucking think so.

See, it starts simply with a stupid-as-shit ordinance that keeps me from entertaining my guests– INDOORS, mind you– with a small display featuring Roman Candles. But it doesn’t end there. It never does. The government is like your terrible ex-wife Stacia; give them an inch, and they take a fucking MILE, man.

Next thing you know, you can’t walk around Target with a fully loaded semi-automatic assault rifle. (See the recent internet news stories, because this is REALLY HAPPENING, SHEEPLE.)

Then, Obama is showing up at your goddamned door at three in the morning (well, his goon-squad I mean– that pussy-coward is probably in bed, jacking off to pictures of dead bald eagles) and they’re ready to pin you with a tattoo on your arm. I don’t know what it’ll be yet– maybe like, an upside-down American flag on fire or something shitty like that– but it’ll basically mean that you’re a TRAITOR and a DANGER TO THE DICTATORSHIP. What it’ll really mean, however, is that you’re a goddamned patriot.

And while you’d love to wear that badge with honor, it’s no longer safe to be a patriot, because while the one Obamastalin is tattooing you and your scared wife and your little babies, the other ones are going through your house and confiscating all of your guns, and some other ones are probably pissing on the framed copy of the constitution you hang above your bed.

After that, Benghazi probably.

Seriously, I normally shy away from political stuff because I’ll admit: I really don’t know what a government is or does. But when it starts stealing all of my freedoms, you better fucking recognize that I’ll see it.

americaWhen I was young, I loved the 4th of July. I loved what it represented and how important it was to us as a nation.

I loved getting together at my step-uncle Brian’s house. We’d have a feast of epic proportions throughout the course of the day, the best kind of shit food-stamps and social security earnings could provide. The adults would drink lots of Busch Light and all of us kids would drink cans of Shasta. We’d spend the afternoon hours trying to horribly mutilate our GI Joes with Black Cats, and a couple of times, we taped grasshoppers to bottle rockets. (Pro-tip: this doesn’t work.)

Then, as the sun would lower on our majestic homeland, the real fun would start.

We’d all gather on dilapidated lawn chairs in the dogshit-strewn backyard and crane our necks skyward. Randy the Trucker–who was probably fucking my aunt AND my step-uncle Brian both– would take his post behind all of the gigantic sky-rockets he’d stolen from the back of the Worlds of Fun truck he was once tasked with driving.

And he’d light them off, but because we were all idiot white-trash folk in the backyard of a terrible house that was only owned because Brian’s mom died and he inherited it, nobody knew how to actually make them work. And so under a cooling, evening drizzle, they’d only go up a few feet into the air and explode, raining fire on the spectators below.

And sure my feeble grandfather’s poncho caught on fire and people had to throw him to the ground and stomp on his to put him out. But you know what? He lived.

And to me, this is freedom.

hitlerOBAMA_2My grandpa catching on fire is a constant reminder that people live even if you accidentally set them on fire with stolen professional fireworks. And this revelation was only possible because in the olden days, people minded their own goddamned business. Sure, fireworks were still illegal, but you know what? Nobody called the cops on us, even when they heard my grandpa screaming in pain and all of the children crying. It was life. Nobody back then wanted Obummer riding into the neighborhood (probably in a BMW or a VOLKSWAGEN or a SAAB or something else Hitler would have driven) and executing everyone to death.

Now, I feel like that’s all changed. And it’s depressing as shit, but what can you do? I guess we can impeach the sonofabitch. So if you do nothing else this 4th of July, make sure you tell everyone you know that we need to VOTE TO IMPEACH OBAMBA.

Have a great holiday, KCC!





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16 Responses to Leftridge: Happy 4th, Unless Obama Has His Way

  1. Orphan of the Road says:

    Back in the times when the darkies were gay. Not that gay, the other gay.

    And the women were baking cookies in their bare feet.

    Yes, I remember it well.

  2. rkcal says:

    Alas, 50% or more of today’s population would nod their heads in agreement at this “accurate’ accounting of what’s wrong with America today.

  3. rkcal says:

    Funny stuff.

  4. KISSman says:

    Obammer is the kinda guy that shows up to your house because he heard that you were having a BBQ although he wasn’t even invited. How did he hear about it? The NSA of course!

    So would King Obama even bother to bring a 6-pack or some chips? Nope. Michelle would force that guy to bring something she grew in that stupid garden of her’s and unfortunately she ain’t growing anything we can smoke. So he’d bring arugula. Who the f**k wants that??? Of course, he doesn’t either and proceeds to eat 4 of your burgers, 2 dogs and asks “what else you got?” Seriously dude?? You weren’t even invited!

    When you grow up on some foreign island instead of America, you have no idea what American values are. He’s the kinda guy who would make a stink over you letting your 5 and 7 year olds light off the backyard fireworks. F**king nanny state….

  5. jimmy says:


    That would make for a fantastic bumper sticker.

  6. Libertarian says:

    You havent truly lived until you’ve experienced a white trash 4th of July.

    Good bit about grandpa!

  7. Paracelsus says:

    Hilarious, well done!

  8. paulwilsonkc says:

    Nothing short of fabulous !

  9. BrotherSunday says:

    I lit fireworks off everywhere this year. Yup and didn’t see a problem. One went off indoors actually thanks to my nephew throwing a “dud” cake into the trashcan and closing the garage door. No cops in Fairway. No cops in Roeland Park. No Cops in Prairie Village. Smoke alarms? Well yes… And the dog got a little cooked. They didn’t come for my fireworks, my guns, or my charred Labrador. Under tardo Bush they did almost each year. But this year I wish johnny law would have swung buy and taken my arsenal sourced from El Cheapos, Mikes in Riverside, and whoever the piss Ricky works for in the yellow tent on County Line Rd. It all was isht. Items from last year that I had emailed myself to get again this year were terrible. Every year the same fireworks get filled with less and less stuff. “Whistle Chasers” used to run around and actually CHASE YOU! Spinning wheels we nailed to trees ran and sprayed everyone with hot sparks for 30 seconds! Now? 3 Pfft. And trying to find something that actually flies over six feet that doesn’t shoot out of a tube is near impossible. So, Leftridge, if crappy fireworks are Obama’s fault too, then yes – screw that guy in the eyeball socket. But honestly I got in more trouble with the law under Dubya and Clinton then I do now – and not because I am getting any smarter or making better decisions. And today is great at gun shows. I can go and buy really fun stuff to shoot. Tracer rounds, 12ga parachute flares (red green & white), 12 gauge fireballs… yeah man, nobody is messing with me at all these days. But I digress. Let me circle back and say I wish my nephew could witness the same level of awesomeness of those fireworks back in the day that never seem to quit and just kept going – smoke bombs that fog the yard for three full minutes, plastic winged rockets that fly out of site they went so high… like when I was his age. Sigh.


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