Yesterday was the first time Sailor V and I celebrated Independence Day at the bunker rather than VHQ, and it turned out to be a good thing.
Minuses: we couldn't see the Beecher show while lighting our own fuses. And we had to be a lot more diligent with our post-fest policing of the site.
Pluses: fewer mosquitos--hardly any by comparison!--better light for lighting fuses, lawn chairs, close proximity of bathroom, drinks remain colder in a refrigerator, easy access to leftovers.
Did not so much as see a single police car all night.
Yesterday was a ridiculously nice day. I do not believe one would be justified asking for nicer weather; I didn't need to run the AC, though it got a bit warm in here, and I was comfortable outside as well. The humidity was also at a comfortable level.
Sailor V got over here at 5 PM; by the time he was here the bratwurst was finished simmering and ready for the grill. We had dinner, and then began lighting the fuses--it might have been as late as 5:40 by the time we started with the fireworks--and then we just kept on going with some short breaks until after 10.
While it was light out we lit bottle rockets, firecrackers, and jumping jacks in my back yard. After the sun started setting and it got cooler, we moved to the front yard. We kept on with bottle rockets et al until it was dark enough for the colorful stuff, and set in on that.
We had a good time.
...around 9-ish, I got a wild hair in an unlikely place and said, "Screw it, I'm taking a spin on the Suzuki!" I ended up taking a second once we were done with the fireworks and the policing; and it was a grand old time.
There was a guy a couple blocks east of the bunker who was setting off some sizable mortars. I don't know what the dude spent but I'd wager he got his money's worth. Some of the stuff he was setting off must have been right up against the limit of DOT Class C.
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I had originally made plans to get some errands and business done today, including work on my IRAs, but I was just too freakin' wiped out to do anything. It's a miracle I had enough energy to close the house up around 11 this morning, realizing the air that's coming in is WARM and that meant it would probably get hot today.
I was right! It's much warmer today than it was yesterday, and more humid. The weather forecast last night had said 85; it's now 92--good call, me.
But since I'd had the place open all night, and fans pumping cool night air in, the house had cold-soaked; it was 77 in the hallway when I closed up the house and set the thermostat to 76, and that's pretty fair dinkum for July in Illinois.
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You don't know, and don't pretend you do. "How hot will it be in 2100"--shut up. Computer models can't predict the temperature for one little area of one continent tomorrow with any real certitude. STFU.
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Chinese pollution good; US pollution bad.
...Chinese sulphur emissions are "hiding" global warming due to--
OH SCREW THIS SHIT I CAN'T KEEP UP WITH ALL THESE ASSHOLES AND THEIR GODDAMED INFERNAL STUPID GLOBAL WARMING COMIC-BOOK SCIENCE BULLSHIT!!!!
Vox Day avoids apoplexy over the same story. I really don't know how he does it.
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Obama wants CAFE standard of 56 MPG by 2025.
"Other ways we can totally destoy American industry--" Yeah, blah blah blah, etcetera.
"Because not enough people get killed in car wrecks...."
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This is chock-full of bad writing. Rare earths are "abundant" but a couple paragraphs later, "the 17 elements have sometimes been dubbed '21st-century gold' for their rarity and value.
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Oh, another minus: can't use the potato cannon here at the bunker. But then again I forgot all about it until just now. Heh.
(Actually, I can put a wad of paper towel down the barrel and make a loud noise with it--about 2/3 of your typical ladyfinger--but that's all.)
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More proof of the lefty bias of the press.
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My motorcycle helmet is--to put it charitably--an artifact of the 1970s.
It's maroon with black stripes that have gold sparkly borders--you know, the kind of big metal-flake they just loved to pieces in 1978--and while it has a certain disco-bondage charm to it, I can't take it seriously as a helmet any longer. But new helmets tend to be expensive, and I'm now in "maximum economy" mode, so unless I seriously get into riding motorcycles I'm not going to be able to justify a new brain bucket.
How to fix this?
Well--I'm going to type slowly so you have the most time possible to adjust to my stunning and brilliant realization--it came to me, over the course of a couple of days, that there is this modern miracle known as spray paint, and it can be used to change the apparent color of things.
Really! It's incredible! You can buy this stuff at most hardware stores, and it doesn't even cost a lot. Isn't that something?
...the shell of the helmet is fiberglas, but that's not a problem since cured gelcoat resin is pretty well impervious to the solvents in common spray paint. (Besides, there's already paint on it.) All I need to do is to scuff the outer layer a bit with 240 grit sandpaper--just enough to give the new paint something to hang onto--wipe it down with laquer thinner, mask off the bits I don't want paint on, and go to town.
I'll turn a hideous extrusion of the 1970s into a plain black helmet. With a "Fairy Tail" symbol on the back, once I can make a stencil. Heh.
(Though I have to admit the idea of using that faux-granite paint on it would be kind of neat--"My helmet is made of stone!"--but I think basic black will do.)
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After the fireworks and cleanup last night Sailor V and I watched the last 4 eps of "Endless Eight". It was close to 1 AM when that was done, and I was fading out, so we called it a night. I had intended to run an ep or two of Fairy Tail but I just didn't have the energy for it.
So I get up and amble around the immediate environs of the bunker--picking up bottle rocket sticks and other fireworks detritus from my neighbors' yards--and then come inside for some food.
After I fed the cats I got out the bread, intending to make a ham-and-cheese sandwich. Bread: green. And not just a few slices or a few spots; I mean the entire outside surface was green.
WTF, it was fine a couple days ago; there wasn't a trace of mold anywhere. Not 48 hours later, it's covered in green? All of it?
...well, it was warm in the house yesterday. I was comfortable enough, but it was warm in here. That's probably what did it.
Anyway, I hied myself to the corner store for a loaf of bread, and got my sandwich.
I suppose there's a way to make bread that doesn't get moldy, but let's face the facts: in a typical house, a loaf of bread gets eaten in a couple of days. There's no point to making bread with antifungal properties; besides, it would probably taste weird and make the bread cost a lot more to boot.
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That's about all I've got. I'm still feeling flensed; I was pretty active yesterday.
I managed to use up all but two packs of firecrackers out of the quarter-brick I had left from last year. To be honest I don't know why I buy them, since all they do is go "bang", but there's a certain amount of charm to that. I was able to sit in my lawn chair and light packs of firecrackers and toss them into the street, which gave me a break from loading up the Og-inspired bottle rocket battery (a stick with holes drilled in it, propped up on jack stands) or doing other insanity that required I get out of my lawn chair.
As with past years I had bought an assortment of roman candles; this year I incorporated a safety feature: I wore a leather work glove on my left hand whenever I was lighting one. (I hold them in my left hand and light with my right, as I'm right-handed.) As it worked out, this saved me from a bit of pain and suffering when one roman candle malfunctioned and fired its last shot out the back of the tube. The palm of my hand tingled for several minutes after that incident, but I didn't get burned.
The burn would have been minor--not requiring professional medical attention--but it would have hurt. So from now on, work gloves will be the rule with roman candles.
See, this is why you have kids; because when they get to be 13-14-15 you can sit in your lawn chair and watch them light the fuses while you relax. You get to watch the show and you don't have to be constantly getting up and sitting down. And you're being a good parent in the process! It's win-win.
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I know I just made a bunch of helicopter moms lose their shit with that. I don't care.