Photo via Flickr user Mike Mozart
America is the greatest fucking country on Earth. It may as well be the only fucking country on Earth. It’s the only fucking country that matters, anyhow. After all, giving us free reign over the entirety of His Kingdom was the last thing God did before He died. That’s right–our complete and utter dominance over the rest of the world is Divine Right, baby! Which explains why we’re so fucking good at it! We run this bitch (and by “this bitch,” I mean, “the world”)…like a boss!
In honor of the birth of the nation that allowed D. W. Griffith’s wildly racist Birth of a Nation to be the first motion picture ever screened at the White House, let us now take a break from setting shit on fire and pounding piss-weak macrobrews to praise everything that makes the good ol’ U.S. of A. the proverbial tits.
We Get Other Countries to Make Our Shit for Us
We’re, like, constantly on the go, workin’ double shifts at our service industry jobs to pay for childcare, which means we no longer have the time to manufacture our own products like ancestors did in generations past. It doesn’t matter, though, ‘cause China’s totally got our backs. They’re all, like, “Dude, we get it. You guys are busy. Don’t worry, we’ll totally make all your shit. T-shirts? Done. Electronics? On it. Food? Oh, fuck yeah. We’ve got this.” And we’re all, like, “Thanks, brah. We were worried we’d have to manufacture things again and, in the process, earn more than eight dollars an hour. We don’t wanna join a union or whatever like our dads did back in the day… LOL.”
We Get Other Countries to Answer Our Phones for Us
Dude, how baller is that? It’s like India’s our fucking butler!
Photo via Flickr user Shine 2010
We Can, Apropos of Nothing, Decide That We’re Super Into Soccer
Hell yeah, we competed in the World Cup. Should we have? Fuck no. Soccer is the World’s Game, and the world, by and large, despises us. In other countries, up to and including Brazil, the World Cup’s current host country, soccer is a game primarily played by impoverished slum dwellers. In America, it’s a game primarily played by upper middle class autistic kids (all that running gives ‘em the opportunity to blow off some steam!). There are no geopolitical aspects to our newfound love of soccer—it’s just an excuse for frustrated fathers to scream “Hustle, Brayden!” from the sidelines and, in the case of the World Cup, start drinking at 9 AM on a weekday.
The best part about America’s newfound World Cup fever, of course, is the fact that it gives us the opportunity to arbitrarily start hating countries we previously didn’t even know existed. We can’t tell you where Belgium is on a map, or even what language they speak, but we can tell you they should go fuck themselves. ‘Cause they beat our boys, goddamnit!
We Have the Freedom to, Like, Talk or Whatever
We can say whatever the fuck we want, whenever we fucking want. So long as, in doing so, we don’t upset our corporate overlords or get ourselves sued for slander. The richer we are, the more we can say, which gives us an incentive to work hard, make that paper, and go on racist tirades!
Photo via Flickr user Erik Hersman
We Can Vote and Shit (Even if We Have Pussies)
Listen, toots—this ain’t Saudi Arabia. Women have had the right to vote in this country for, like, a hella long time. As is the case with any right, they totally have the right to, like, not vote, too. Which is tight, because voting doesn’t really matter anyway. Our sick-ass Supreme Court ultimately makes all of our decisions, up to and including what broads can do with their bods. Having our lives and rights determined for us frees us from having to research and care about the issues, which in turn gives us more time to care about the shit that really matters, like professional sports and those kooky Kardashians.
We Solved Racism
Whenever some hater approaches us with that “America is still hyper fragmented by race” mumbo jumbo, we can just point at a picture of our fuckin’ POTUS, lookin’ non-white as fuck, and be all, like, “Uh… read ‘em and weep, dipshit.” The same thing applies when it comes to class. Whiny-ass motherfuckers are all like, “Boo hoo, the rich are only getting richer and the poor poorer, soon there won’t be a middle class at all, blah blah blah” and we’re, like, “Uh… bootstraps much? If you don’t wanna be poor all your life, do something about it. Develop an app or something. Look at that 24-year-old over there. He was just a college kid, eating ramen at Yale, and now he’s a billionaire. All ‘cause he found the right angel investor.”
Photo via Flickr user 5chw4r7z
We Use Other Countries’ Cultures as Excuses to Party
While it’s bomb and all that Cinco De Mayo is some kind of tight-ass holiday in Mexico, that isn’t why we get crunk at Chevy’s Fresh Mex once a year. We just love to drink while wearing funny hats. We also love to attend outdoor music festivals while wearing funny hats, which is why our Facebook profile is filled with pictures of us in headdresses and short shorts at Coachella.
We Have Hella Religious Freedom
Listen, there’s no room for religious discrimination in this land of the free, home of the Atlanta Braves. If you wanna be super Christian, or just only kinda Christian, that’s your choice. We’re not here to harsh your buzz, bro. Unless, I mean, you don’t want to pray before a town meeting. If that’s the case, we’re sorry, but our bois and broads down at the Supreme Court have to put the hammer down on your ass.
Photo via Flickr user Simon Shek
We Have Hella Food
We have so much food, we joyfully, remorselessly stuff foods in other foods. So much food, as a matter of fact, that we don’t even eat all of it. Thirty-one percent of our food, 133 billion pounds of shit, is thrown out yearly. That’s $161.6 billion worth of hot dogs—hot dogs filled with cheese, liquid cheese, cream cheese and that cheese shit that comes in a can. We DGAF, though, ‘cause we’ve got money the fuck to spare, what with us being ballers and all.
It makes sense that we’d have so much food, on account of how much we love it. The only thing we love more than eating, in fact, is talking about where we’re gonna eat next, and what we’re gonna eat when we get there. How much do we love eating? Enough to talk about eating while we’re eating.
Photo via Flickr user Pål Joakim Olsen
We Love Our Guns
And our guns love us. Which is why we polish ‘em up, real nice like. We cradle them in our arms, caress them like we used to caress our ex-wives, before they got all fat and we had to kick their asses to the curb. You want our guns? You can take them from our cold, dead fingers. We'll no longer need them, having been fatally shot by another gun-toting patriot minutes prior.
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