So... I made it until 9:00 PM last night before the police were called. We were shooting a few dozen very large, but legal, artillery shells. A lady (term used loosely) comes around the corner walking up the street. Every other word was an f-bomb. She is yelling and making an as of herself. She tells me I better knock it off or she was going to kick my ass. I laughed at her, turned to my sons and said, "Light 'em up, boys!" This absolutely set her off. She said she was going to get her "old man" to come back and take care of me. I said, if you have a problem, call the police. She said she doesn't fix things by calling the police, at which I replied, "You might not call the police for help, but I do." Little did she know, a neighbor already called them. Cops stopped by, saw everything I had was legal, and told me to have fun. They went over to get her side, they found, pot, coke and meth. She and her old man went to the pokey.
Moral to the story. Ralston, Nebraska, loves their fireworks. It is what Ralston is known for. The police in Ralston love their fireworks. If you don't like fireworks, don't move here and for God's sake, don't visit around the Fourth.
Moral to the story. Ralston, Nebraska, loves their fireworks. It is what Ralston is known for. The police in Ralston love their fireworks. If you don't like fireworks, don't move here and for God's sake, don't visit around the Fourth.
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