Last year, me and my friends grilled out at Skenderville, in typical 4th of July buffoonery. With a generous supply of scratchy vinyl and frothy PBR's, many of Atlanta's finest, including Black Lips, Gringo Star, and King Khan and the Shrines, showed up to drown their workday sorrows. Well, about midway through our righteous congregation, some friends showed up with a trunkful of South Carolinian fireworks. The sky soon filled with sparkling delight, leaving a mess of empty casings and parachutes on the streets below.
Our good friend Jessica Juggz somehow thought to tie one of these parachutes to a dirty veggie dog. And it looked beautiful in its edible patriotic form. It was so beautiful that she wanted to hang it from the skyline-high trees. Up and up she climbed, but soon realized that she couldn't get enough height. And in our finest moment of stupidity, the adrenaline kicked in, and I soon found myself sprawling up the branches like a drunken squirrel.
TBC...
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