Fuck Y'All, I'm Getting Drunk

I was awoken today by what was either a jet flying 50 feet away from my bedroom window, or Marc and twenty thousand clones with twenty thousand sacks of White Castle all flatulating simultaneously. “Christ and God,” I thought to myself in a mid-morning haze, “the world’s delicate ecosystem will never survive the combined ass-power of so many Marcs! The end is nigh!”

Then I remembered today is the Fourth of July, and the noise was probably just a jet, and I coughed a sigh of relief.

No great plans for today – honestly, because of the lack of any new terrorist attacks, I’m not feeling particularly patriotic. These Islamic fundamentalists need to stop resting on their sandy laurels and get cracking on a new plan – how am I expected to vehemently despise an entire culture of people when its small percentage of extremists aren’t providing me with the delicious fodder for racism on the nightly news? I’m not sandbagging here, terrorists. It takes two sides to hate one another, and y’all haven’t been living up to your end of the bargain.

Please, remind me why I hate you so much. Thanks.

Anyway, I recently purchased enough fireworks to invade Liberia, so I’m off to get wasted and shoot them out the back of my car. Merry Fourth of July, everyone – even those of you foreigners who don’t give a fuck. Sorry for the lame update, but I've got pigs to roast and beer to drink.