I love fireworks. Love them. They are, beyond doubt, my favorite thing.
Stupid things?
We used to launch bottle rockets into the bass player’s upright bass all the time to piss him off. Light ‘er up and drop it in. Delightful. We extracted all the sticks from inside the bass once, it was like 27 I think.
I used to keep a couple packs of firecrackers with me at all times and would toss them into campfires, or light them at random just to watch everyone scatter. It was so amusing back then and dammit it still is now. We used to get the 5000 shot rolls and wrap them around a rake, and run around waving it about. M80s, quarter sticks etc taped to laptops, traffic cones, action figures…whatever. Kablooey.
The larger mortar shells are too dangerous to mess around with, but I handfired over 200 on the night of the 3rd this year for our annual “Don’t Blow Your Hands Off Unless it’s for America” festival, along with 50 cakes. It was soul affirming.
God I love fireworks.