This is the day that you godless liberals hate more than any other day (except for Christmas and Easter) – the day when we celebrate Jesus Christ writing and presenting the Constitution (not that Bill of Rights crap, though – except the Second Amendment, but not those other fruity ones) to King George III and his Nazi wife. History tells us that George was so enraged when he read the document that his head exploded, thereby spawning the traditional display of fireworks on this day (another thing liberals hate about this holiday, because many Americans enjoy fireworks, and as we all know, liberals hate to see people enjoying themselves doing anything except for smoking dope, burning the flag, or eating gay wedding pizza).

Personally, I don’t count today as a holiday, because “holidays” on Saturday and/or Sunday are bullshit. Plus it’s not a holiday if there’s no beer, and I haven’t had a beer in a long time, which sucks. I keep waking up in the morning (in the dark, because what I consider “this morning” these days is what most people think of as “last night”), wondering what the point of living is (I think it has something to do with owning the most electronic devices that don’t have fruit logos on them).

It’s one of life’s little ironies – beer makes life worth living, yet drinking beer shortens one’s life. Unless you drink it in moderation, of course, but moderation is for wimps.

Oh well, time to decide whether or not to go to Costco (I assume it’s open – I mean, there’s Patriotism, and then there’s Capitalism, and I’m pretty sure we all know which one this country’s all about. UPDATE: Looks like Costco is closed today – good for them!), or maybe skip that and cut the grass. But then I’ll have to decide whether to take the loader off the tractor and cut the grass first and then put the loader back on, or do all the shit I need the loader for first, and then cut the grass. Or maybe cut the grass with the loader on, but I tend to do some damage that way. And then I think I need to get some diesel, and if I’m gonna leave the house, I might as well go to Costco. But that would mean putting pants on (and if you have to put pants on, it aint a real holiday).

It’s just one dilemma after another.