When I was 14, my friend’s dad told us that we had to get rid of a dead calf out in their field. So like logical teenagers, we took apart 25 m-80′s and dumped all of the powder into a stick of PVC pipe. For anyone who doesn’t like blowing shit up, that’s roughly 5 sticks of dynamite combined. Anyway, we stuffed this pipe bomb into the dead calf’s mouth and ran away. That was the dumbest yet coolest thing I’ve done with explosives. Seeing a crater appear in a field is pretty sweet, but being covered in pieces of dead cow brain…not so much. So now, every time I see a good firework fail, I think of that story. We kind of bonded just now.