A time-honored tradition.

Happy Fourth of July!

This being the day of America’s independence, I did what any red-blooded patriot would do: I signed onto AIM, found someone from the UK, and started giving him shit about how Washington kicked his redcoat ass up and down the Potomac. Unfortunately this particular Brit managed to outsmart me, and one-upped my these-colors-don’t-run nonsense by warning me of the dangers of aliens and Will Smith. Totally threw me off my game.

Oh well. I still intend to celebrate by cooking and consuming as much meat as possible. I’d set off some fireworks, too, except you can’t legally get real ones in my stupid state. That’s right: Florida has actually outlawed patriotism. I think you’re allowed to have glow sticks still, as long as they aren’t brighter than a fluorescent light bulb.

But enough about my stupid penis-shaped state. May your Fourth be full of good-natured American-flavored shenanigans, and may your British allies be less wily than mine. Here’s to stacked tires, croissandwiches, pickup trucks with their own zip code and cheese-filled everything.