Happy Birthday, Old Friend

Happy 234th birthday, America. You don’t look a day over 200. A few wrinkles here and there, but I like to think that’s from you smiling so much. Keep on smilin’, America.

Now.

Enough with the platitudes and nice sayings. Let’s get on with the gifts. What would you like for your birthday, America? You seem to have everything. Beautiful. Spacious skies. Amber waves of grain, etc. You’ve got a lady statue, a mountain of old man heads and a pretty good –no, grand — canyon. So, whaddyl it be? Another head on Mt. Rushmore? Deodorant for the lady? Perhaps an abrasive cleaner for those pesky canyon walls?

What’s that, you say? Cash?

Johnny Cash?

Oh, oh, oh. I see. You want money. Okay. Well, it’s a good thing that’s what you asked for, because I have this card here and I think this would be the absolute perfect time to open it. Go ‘head. You deserve it.

Ha, ha! I know! The monster’s eyes swirl when you wiggle the card! But look inside, America. Whoooooops! Look what fell out!

Oh, you’re welcome. You’re quite welcome. Happy Birthday, old friend. And I mean OLD (har de harr harr).

What? What’s wrong?

I was just kidding, America. You’re really not that old. I mean, look at other countries. Greece. Rome. Nebraska. They’re so old. You’re young, America! You’ve still got it, girl! You work to be the best.

Alright, then. Happy Birthday.

Maybe you can use that 20 bucks I gave you to get some kind of wrinkle cream.

What? I was totally kidding!

Seriously, though.

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