Some have Skeletons, Mine had Fireworks

And I’m not talking about the Katy Perry kind. While I was peaking through all the drawers and closets in the house, I came across a mysterious cylinder entitled: deep purple. I wondered what kind of powerful explosives had I hiding in my closet? I was curious, but not enough to light fireworks outside of my trailer. I waited patiently until the right moment arrived — and sure enough, long weekend rolled around, and someone was having a surprise birthday party. And what a better gift, than mysterious explosive material? Surely a win.

That night I tried caribou meat for the first time. I’ve tasted other kinds of game before (e.g. reindeer, venison, moose). But the way this roast was made, and the rich gravy that came with it. Man, I could of had five more helpings of it. It was gamy, tender, and moist. It had the same texture as veal, but more flavourful than beef. Hopefully someone will prepare caribou again.

After we sang the birthday song, stuffed ourselves with two types of cake, and were full of mirth — it was time to set off the fireworks! The instructions were straightforward enough: peel back and light. The birthday boy (or I should say man, he was turning 50) wanted to hold the firework canister and then light it up. Oh, and did I mention this was the doctor talking? Good thing he had a house full of specialists and nurses if things went his way. But alas, I told him we should play it safe and just stick it in the backyard.

Too bad we didn’t have more things to blow up. Nothing more satisfying that seeing explosions in the air!

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