Yankee doodle dandy

The president, whose face is now the shade of a newly-minted Cheetoh, makes a good argument for eating junk food: that one would have to be an idiot to drag a live chicken down into one's bomb shelter or to quarantine at the time of an international pandemic by sheltering-in-place inside a meat processing plant. The man's intelligence clearly supercedes his predecessor, enabling him to perform a re-enactment of one stunt after another, surpassing even The Thousand Points of Light of Bush the Elder.

Time to fire up barbeques coast-to-coast, and for The Base to wave American flags that refuse to wear their masks. Put some hot dogs on the grill, roast those big juicy weiners along with those lawless, god forsaken freaks who toppled statues in MIssissippi and at other state capitols all over this great nation. Help stomp out fascism with good strong leadership that smells like charcoal buring, doused with too much kerosene. Burn baby burn. 

Maybe the USA is a passing fancy, an overripe watermelon that once looked good on the fruit stand but hasn't aged particularly well and is now being sold for pennies on the dollar. When you tear into that watermelon with your Bowie knife, expecting sweet mouthfuls of delight, you might be disappointed, but that's what it's like to be American these days. The Dollar Store's open till sundown, and personal injury lawyers are at our service 24/7. 

Things will bounce back quickly, as promised in The Declaration of Independence. We'll soon be rid of the toxic predator who brags about eating Big Macs at McDonalds. The rush to revolution has begun yet again, the movement made up this time of peaceable foot soliders promoting the sincere belief that human life can and must be improved.

Happy birthday, America!