Yeah, I'll Piss on Your Damned Bonfire

What the fuck is it with people and their huge fucking campfires? Forest fires blazing around us, and the bubbas are still stoking their own personal infernos!

Here I am, on a mountain just east of Prescott, Ariz. Hot, dry fucking weather. Brown, crispy grass. Wind blowing crazy. Lightning flashing on the ridge. A dozen wildfires burning across the state, including right across the valley.

And the inbred morons camped by me are building huge fucking bonfires and yucking it up. Burning pine, too – sparks popping everywhere. Fuckwits think they’re running a Rammstein concert.

You know what? The smoke stinks like the inside of a skunk’s ass. It’s getting everywhere: In my clothes, in my sheets, burning my eyes, making the dogs sneeze. Assholes.

I’m gonna wait till the hillbillies are asleep. Then I’m gonna piss on their bonfires and wave that fragrant yellow steam into their RVs. I hope it scorches out their fucking nose hairs.

Hey, Beer Vanholio! He works hard on this blog.

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