ALMOST LEGAL PYROMANIA
It seems like everything is legal until I want to do it and then it becomes illegal automatically. When I was a little boy maybe 12 years old I might’ve been a Pyro. I didn’t think I was a Pyro, I didn’t even know what the word meant. I just thought it was a lot of fun to set fires play with gasoline and things like that. That’s all.
I think it’s safe to admit it now because the statute of limitations to be prosecuted for anything I did is long past. (I hope)
Anyway, As long as I don’t put my signature on anything that I write here,
I can always claim that I did not write this. One of my followers must have written this and stuck my name on it, just to knock off my throne. Yup, That’s the ticket. I am such a threat because of my story writing prowess, that some other writer needed to take me out of the competition. Yes, that’s what I will claim when the police come pounding on my door.
“ you will never take me alive, coppers. I’m not going back to the slammer again. I am way too pretty for prison.”
One time, when I was a little kid, my buddies and I decided a bicycle ride over to the river one hot summer day. We were fooling around throwing rocks at the water and climbing trees. There was a rope swing hanging from a huge cottonwood tree. We were having fun on the swing and then somebody whipped out a cigarette. We all smoked that cigarette, until it turned into a hotbox with a mile-long coal .
For some dumb reason, I touched a match to the cotton dropped by the tree. I thought it was funny how this little light blue fairy flame danced across the cotton. Of course the burning circle was growing to huge proportions and setting leaves on fire which set sticks on fire which set the whole damn river on fire so we pedaled our little asses out of their as fast as we could and watched the carnage from a distance. I think I managed to set about a mile of river on fire. The way I figure it, the fire department should thank me and even give me a reward because I didn’t hurt anything, and, I gave them some much-needed surprise fire practice.
I somehow blame my parents. They allowed me to grow up. I am probably a great example of why some animals eat their young. I have never stopped being curious about my world. I almost didn’t survive the burning things and blowing up things stage of life.
Since I am all grown up now, at least on the outside, and mom and dad are not watching me anymore, I bought a weed torch. This seemed a lot more organic than using chemicals to kill weeds.
We all know about the dangers of the herbicide Round Up. That stuff seems to be in everything we eat — even Ben & Jerry’s ice cream has Round Up in it.
I had a small blowtorch and a Valley Oak tree that was a volunteer in my backyard. I aimed the tip of that flame right at big part of the tree. I figured that I could heat the tree up so much that it would start to boil and it would die. The tree just laughed at me. The scorch mark on the tree was minimal after blazing away for 4 hours. I literally heard the tree laughing at me.
I have had it with anything green. Why does the world keep putting me in charge of taking care of greenery. I am completely irresponsible.
I got a hold of something called a weed Dragon. Me, a big pyromaniac, with a $20 weed Dragon. It must be legal right? I bought it, didn’t I? That proves it’s legal, right? So I’ve gotta yard full of volunteer everything. It’s getting so out of hand that I’m beginning to think that nature is trying to swallow the place where I live. It keeps getting closer and closer and every time I look out back I hear the music of JAWS. I was pretty sure that I could take care of all of my weed problems and maybe even my tree problems with my mighty Dragon. Let me tell you, when I turned that Dragon on full blast, it sounded like a jet taking off. I think I could instantly roast a pig, that may have wandered too close. I felt like Tim Allen imitating the male gorilla with his manly prowess.
ARR ARR ARR OOO WAAA.
But, I’m a responsible pyromaniac. I had a garden hose at the ready . I attacked those weeds so fiercely. Steam and smoke rose into the air and I felt like Merlin the magician. Of course there were lots of leaves. Leaves burn nicely and make the most wonderful fragrant smoke.
I especially, liked the burning leaves, that smelled like autumn in Illinois. I love the smell of burning leaves on a cold autumn day in Bloomington.
Anyway I digress, I’m having a wonderful time burning things until the leaves started catching on fire and things started getting out of control. It was at that time that I was very glad I had a hose handy to put the fire out before I set the fence on fire. Neighbors are so fussy when you set the fence on fire. Just because they paid for half of it doesn’t mean they have to get so nasty about it. So my neighbor Lucy called the fire department because she saw smoke and smelled smoke. What sort of a silly reason is that to call the fire department. Some people are whiney little weenies that are definitely going to be voting for the wrong person this coming November.
So the fire department asked me if I was burning and I looked at my feet and mumbled softly — yes. But nothing is burning right now. I put it out. !
So then the fire chief himself, Randolph Mantooth, threw me to the ground and grabbed me by my shirt lapels with one hand and began slapping me with the other hand.
He said listen stupid, you can’t burn in this county. Everything is on fire now and constantly, this whole valley is filled with smoke May, June, July, August, and September. The air is so thick you could cut it with a knife and it’s literally off the charts for being unhealthy to breathe. And then a little punk jackass like you comes along and starts burning in your backyard with a weed Dragon. (He literally looked and sounded like Jack Webb in the dragnet TV series. I included a little Jack Webb just to give you the idea.)
His voice sounded like rolling thunder as he barked at me , “It’s punks like you that make me sick”. I thought it was really rather harsh treatment but apparently the fire department is required to be hard in cases like this. Oh I wish I had a video camera the way the Chief talk to me while he was slapping me senseless. He said listen to me, you sniveling little gutter mouth punk. You are a 2 bit arson and we’ve had you in our sites for a long time. You are an enemy of society because of your smoke and your fire and your weed Dragon. You are a scourge on humanity. A complete waste of skin. I thanked him for telling me the error of my ways and promised to never do it again.
You might want to check with your local fire department before you buy a weed Dragon. It could be the weed Dragon would just be one of those cool things that boys need to have, but never use. You know like a classic car, or an AK-47.
Well anyway, getting back to my beating, I didn’t get a ticket. They actually were very nice and told me that I couldn’t use the weed Dragon because it was an open flame device. I hate being told what to do but he was right. Maybe I should move to the middle of Nevada. Maybe there I could have a great big incinerator and I could burn everything. Even lithium batteries, and paint and old clothes and old income tax records and garbage complete with chicken fat coffee grounds and tin cans and old rotten peaches.
You can’t do anything in the city without people hitting the panic button. It’s ridiculous why people call the fire department and the police just because I make fire and explosions. However, that big volunteer tree in the backyard, if I had a stick of dynamite, I think I could put it underneath the root ball of that oak tree and lift it up and out of the soil. Of course the entire tree with the root ball might land on my neighbors roof so I probably should not do that. See, I’m very careful.
I finally broke down and found a guy with a chainsaw to take that tree out. But I have literally declared war on anything green in the yard. I’m sick of it. I’ve been fighting weeds all my life so now I have a yard that is entirely rocks. Nothing grows. It’s a desert. If anything green so much as rears its ugly head, I pour salt on it. Maybe I pour vinegar on it. Lately I’ve been using copper sulfate. If you put copper sulfate on your soil you need to say goodbye to anything ever growing their ever again. Fortunately, I don’t want anything growing there ever again. My motto is, if it’s green, treated it mean.
If you are a weed hugger and this article was offensive to you, I am very sorry but stick it in your ear. If you aren’t too squeamish, here’s an article about what a weed Dragon is and what it can do. Just be careful or you could almost end up in jail for arson if you accidentally burn down the neighbors shed.
I don’t usually tag people. But I thought I’d just poke the bear today and tag a few people just change and prove to them once again what going on over here in my world and force them to perhaps smile or even laugh.
lelu A., Love, Claire Franky, Roberta Dunnicliff, The Momma Dom ~ 🐰 Pure, 💜 Love, 👑 Energy, Jason Provencio
