Burn, Baby, Burn!
Ah, the Fourth of July. Nothing says Americana more than blowing shit up. Thus the Fourth of July was born. (And I think there was something about Independence and the British and whatnot. I feggit.) Anyhoo, go out, be merry, drink too much, try to drive home, vomit into your toilet, then come up with a great excuse not to go into work on the 5th. (Warning: BeyondHollywood.com does not encourage drinking and driving. And if you do, you are a dumbass, and deserve to wrap your car around a lightpost. Darwinism and all that junk.) As Tom Hanks said in “Saving Private Ryan” — “I’ll see you on the beach, beeyatches!” Or something to that effect.
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