First of all, fuck all of those HeHaw Outlaw assholes who are trying to intimidate people who don’t think the same way they do. We used to go to war with dipshits like them, but now there are GoFundMe’s supporting them. Now, I’m not that smart, but even I can see that these mullets with assault rifles would get fucking slaughtered by actual soldiers who can run a mile without having to lay down after.
Personally, I don’t know if I could pull the trigger on a fellow countryman. I may want to pistol whip you, and knock the stupid out of you, but I think putting a bullet between your eyes isn’t the way to go. I have complete faith in my countrymen, I really don’t think we’re all that different when it comes down to it. I keep reading the comments on news articles, and it’s shocking to see the awful, disgusting opinions of the people who comment. I really think they must be horribly depressed individuals who’s only joy in life is to piss off as many people as possible in order to get that fleeting dopamine kick that keeps them from hanging themselves. I know I have the urge to piss people off from time to time, usually when I’m having one of those days where I’m desperate to feel anything, regardless of the effect it has on others.
I’m trying to be more positive and hopeful, and to make some changes in my life. It’s a huge pain in the ass. It’s not fun to look inside yourself, and hate what you see, but it does give you some motivation to better yourself. I hope that after the whole ‘Rona crisis is over, more people snap out of their bullshit and realize that they have to change their ways if they want to be happy. Or maybe they won’t.
In this installment of weird historical events, I’ll touch on The Great Molasses Disaster, one of my favorite wacky accidents, that devastated the North End of Boston. On January 15th, 1919, a storage container holding 2.3 million gallons of molasses burst, flooding the streets at 35mph and killing 21 people.
Now, let’s unpack this a little. First of all, let’s picture what 2.3 million gallons of anything coming at you like a soccer mom in a carpool lane. Not great. Now picture molasses: it’s gross, it’s sticky, it’s heavy, and the more you try and fight it, the quicker it’ll take you under, like some sweet-smelling version of quicksand. Now imagine you’re on your way home from one of the many amazing restaurants in the North End when you hear something that sounds like a freight train roaring down the street, enveloping you in some sticky bullshit that slowly drowns you.
Why did this happen? Simple physics is to blame. New England weather is wild, we can go from 60 degrees and sunny, to -5 and snowy, in the same day. That’s what happened ln January 15th. The molasses was previously warmed to make it easier to transport, but when the newly-delivered molasses met the previously-delivered cold molasses, the difference in heat caused the molasses to expand and puncture the container. Thankfully, storage regulations changed, and now there aren’t any more industrial accidents*.
After all the damage was done, and the flood of molasses was cleaned up, over $9.18 million dollars (adjusted for inflation) in damage was done. Locals say that on a hot day, you can still smell the molasses. I’ve been to the North End in the summer, and I don’t buy it, unless molasses smells like the combination of great Italian food, garbage, and stale beer.