You’re a Firework


Our Weekend Adventure did not end in Vegas.  Nope.  No How. No Way.

We tumbled down the 15 in the trusty RV with intentions to trade out the RV for our Cars, drop the Homies off at home and head down to Manhattan Beach for the annual Firework Celebration.


Got.On.The.Road.Late {of course, it’s Vegas}

Impromptu.Shooting.Range.Stop.To.Fire.Ammo.At.Justin.Bieber.Doll.Head {wtf is right}

Had.To.Fuel.100.Gallon.RV.Tank {slowest process ever}

RV.Storage.Closed.For.Night {no passing go to collect cars}

So what did we do? We rolled on down to Manhattan Beach in the RV.  If you’ve been to MB or live there, try to find a parking spot in a beast like ours. Yes, Good Luck.  We had at best, two options.

  1. Hope on a Wing and a Prayer that our friend had room outside his place (possibly the only home in MB that could accommodate the beast on his yet-to-be-landscaped yard)
  2. Ditch it at the Chevron station (because in the time that it would take to tow the 28,000 lb monster, we’d be long home and in our beds after the firework show)

Unbelievably Option #1 Worked.  Wish I had taken a picture because it was like.stuffing.sausage – but it gave the Mr. some real street cred on his driving/parking abilities {note: i still think he drives too fast}.

Getting to the Bigger Point.  WHY? Was watching the fireworks so important?

Well, for one, he’s obsessed.

See video of our 6″mortar Sea World Style Firework show in Mexico – this is why I worry about fingers and toes.

and the better reason if you ask me,

we met last year at this firework show.

cue hearts now.

Happy Happy. Joy Joy.

Thanks for a year of fireworks.

{MF Dre}



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