Nice Try, Lady Liberty

Ummmm, are we not friends on Facebook?  MY BIRTHDAY MONTH!  You know how hard it is to compete with America?! No matter what I do, everybody's going to be talking about you for the rest of the month.  What they did, what they ate, what they drank, where they went.  Cut to a month from my birthday and nobody will even remember it was on a Tuesday.  Yeah, a Tuesday.  You already have one up on me there.  Your birthday's on  a weekday and everybody gets the day off.  My birthday's on a weekday and everybody's just happy they made it through Monday. And you know what Americans love more than having a day off from work?  Blowing shit up.

Men get downright giddy over being able to light things on fire all day.  And if the Fourth of July is on a weekend?  Forget about it.  Three days straight of narrowly missing blowing up a car or losing a limb?  I can't compete with that.  One year, I forgot where I parked my car and called the cops because I thought it had been stolen.  Police lights.  Those are the only things lighting up on my birthday.

And let's talk about how fancy everybody gets for you.

I couldn't even get everybody to keep their shoes on for my birthday last year.  Hell, even my bitter ass joined in by celebrating you through fashion.

But, at the end of the day, I win.  When was the last time you got a present for your birthday, America?  Oh, that statue everybody keeps talking about?  Yeah, that is sooooo 1886, and it wasn't even on your birthday, so it doesn't count.  I get a present every.single.year.  Usually more than one.  Suck it.  And at the end of my birthday I get to do this.

You know what America?  You might give me the freedom to drink so much the kitchen floor is the only logical place to catch some z's, but I'm the one who makes the choice to never leave a bottle of wine with a single drop left in it.  Happy birthday month to me.