I live on Alki, Seattle. Every year, rain or shine, the fourth of July is a shitshow down here. Cops line up on either side of the thoroughfare with horses, bikes, squad cars and nightsticks while punk-pubescent kids throw pop-rocks at skittish cyclists, teenagers try to get laid as awkwardly as they can and all the 30 somethings are blown out of their socks and staggering around screaming fuck the pigs in between leering at the new parents who clumsily thread the needle of crowds using nothing but……you guessed it: Strollers. Yes people, this is my block: All American. Tonight sounds like little Baghdad except between munition blasts, those screams I hear are the …..yeah: drunk 30-somethings. I dont think anyone has died yet..
I’m sipping vodka, laughing at the idiots who will actually try to drive out of here tonight without getting popped by the boys in blue.
All I really want is a deep fried peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Ive never even heard of that, but I know a guy who knows a guy who runs a damn good kitchen downtown, by God Im getting that sandwich this week.
Cheers, stay tuned for midnight when Little Baghdad turns to Tiananmen Square once the boys in full riot gear march up the beach.

You think Im kidding, dont you.