The BOSH Man! CELEBRATES THE FOURTH OF JULY!!Submitted by DudeThatsBOSH at 2012-07-03 10:10:05 EDT
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A few years back I joined the militia as a flagbearer/marching drummer. I was so good at the drums that half the time we didn't even march around, and instead got real drunk and partied alot. I was sick of the English. We were AMERICANS. I thought the best way to show my patriotism would be to get drunk and fart a lot. It worked.
I volunteered to join the front lines, but confused some people when I declined to arm myself. Instead I played the shit out of my drums. Musket balls from the faggot English would whiz by my head but I was really into a pretty gnarly solo so I kept playing, unphased. The sonic force of my drumming eventually put a stop to all the gunfire. Even Cannonballs would stop midflight and roll harmlessly to a complete stop well before reaching our army. Eventually the power of my drumming summoned the rock and roll spirits of Molly Hatchet. We put on the most radical rock and roll concert of all time right there on the battlefield. A ton of babes came out of the woods and got real naked while the rest of the militia set up a barbeque. I just lit up a cigarette and nodded in agreement.
Soon enough the rock and roll majesty from our jam reached a crescendo and a ton of bosh fireworks lit up the twilight sky. The English dropped their guns and started jacking off at the power of American Rock and Roll, the Militia started banging all the naked broads, it went down as one of the most radical parties to ever occur on American soil.
And that is how the American Revolution ended. After the English were done crying/jacking off, they picked up their guns and set sail back to Candyland or wherever it is they came from. I was declared president of Rock and Roll for the rest of time and the States, now United by Molly Hatchet and pork ribs, delcared the 4th of July to be a tribute to this momentous party until the end of days.
I gave my inaugural speach, then broke into an incredible drum solo. The force of which propelled me into the sky. I figured I had a pretty sweet drumming pattern to fly me to England, and so off I went, to take a dump on the Queen.
I continue this tradition every 3rd of July. Then drum solo my way back over the Atlantic to drink beer and eat pork ribs and bang broads and jam with Molly Hatchet on the 4th. All across the lands parties of a smaller variety break out and I do my best to get to them all. But if you happen to be at a 4th of July party over the next few days, just remember the reason you're celebrating. And remember the best way to show your patriotism is to drink a lot of beer and fart a lot.