Well if this wasn’t the easiest edition to come up with. It’s the Fourth of July! Hang up your flag, fire up the grill and have a chill holiday celebrating the birth of our nation.
In true patriotic style, today’s winecones are thrown in true classic American style. Baseball, PB&J sandwiches, apple pie, red, white and blue Jello (with whipped cream) and hours spent in the pool to ward off 100-degree heat. (What – isn’t that how you do it?)
My parents also have an outdoor grill and firepit in their back yard. You may think this is a recipe for a tradition beer and burgers bash. But no. My family is different. Case in point:
Me: Hey! You have a firepit! (They changed things up to make everything cooler after I moved out.) Awesome! Can we make s’mores tonight?
Parents: Why would you want to do that?
Me: Um… why WOULDN’T you? Graham crackers, chocolate, peanut butter and charred marshmallows! (I may have begun drooling at this point.)
Parents: You don’t need that kind of crap. Neither do the muppets.
Me: Need – no. Want – WANT!
Parents: Besides, your dad’s grilling zucchini from our garden.
It’s like they don’t even know me.
So sorry for the delay in today’s wineconing. I’ve been out in the pool fantasizing about the s’more potential at that firepit (and how I can discretely dispose of the foul foul vegetable threatening my dinner.)
Tom and Katie are getting divorced. Anderson Cooper is gay. And that Call Me Maybe song won’t stop playing on the radio. My parents now own iPhones and my dad is on Facebook. THE WORLD IS COMING TO AN END!
I have a giant hematoma on my leg and it hurts to walk. My chest is developing a huge bruise from the elbow shot I took. And once again knee vs shin… knee wins EVERY time. I always get hit under my shin guard. Stupid things are useless. And don’t wanna wear pants; but that would require shaving…which hurts since my leg is killing (speaking of whining and not handling pain).
Editor’s note: You wear shingaurds in baseball? Haha. I kid – American Pastime and all. You know what helps with pain? Wine. Because you already appear to have severely coned yourself. And also, it’s a holiday. So I declare today pants free. Winecone the pain; drink the wine.
I’m normally calm and rational. (Well, mostly.) Pepco makes me stabby.
Editor’s note: Those were some storms. And of course it’s a million and seven degrees in all those locals without power. I’m so pleased Pepco is bragging about early restoration – since the above wineconer is still without power. Welcome to hell. I’ve got frozen winecones for you to fire.
The 4th of July is known as Independence Day. I’d be willing to bet that our Founding Fathers would flip a lid at how many people in the U.S. of A. are actually dependent on the government.
Editor’s note: No, this isn’t a typo. This wineconing editor’s note was deliberately placed in the smackaroo section. A smackaroo to all the men and women, here and there, past and present, who have fought for our freedoms to bitch about what we’re owed and debate what rights we have to demand dependence. Because 234 years ago, a motley militia picked up winecones they had lying around the house and said, “Fine. I will do this MYSELF.”
Also a smackaroo to my parents. Here’s to 34 wacky years of appreciating the irony of joining together on a day of independence.
To everyone on this holiday – I raise my glass of wine to you. Enjoy yourselves – safe and sane please.
‘Till next week, winecones and kisses!
PS. This your first wineconing? Welcome. Grab a glass and click here for an explanation of what in name of Jeebus’ we’re talking about.