I knew I was forgetting something, and in the wee hours of the morning, after blogging through insomnia and lying awake for a long time for more insomnia, I remembered it. This was the other thing I heard about during my 'weird funny stuff' day:
Two teens injured using a sledgehammer to extract gunpowder from shotgun shells and bullets to make homemade fireworks.
Okay, I'm sure, given their injuries, that they and their faimilies are probably not amused....
But you have to admit, it is evolution in action, worthy of a Darwin award (well, an honourable mention, anyway, since they were only injured). If I were a judge, I'd be tempted to sentence them to summer science classes. But that actually might make them far more dangerous, no?
By the way, what does it mean when you finally sleep and everything you dream involves India in some way? I haven't checked the news yet to see if anything stupendous happened there, but I had Indian flute players involved in intrigue (in Danville, no less), Indian hospital and culture centre for women along a lake oddly placed by Rose Street, and at some point Dwana was also Indian. Have no idea why that was.
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