Scotland, what are you doing? Trust me, I’ve been down this road with England before and you are going about it all wrong. You and I both know that our buddy England doesn’t respond to plebiscites and documents detailing his long train of abuses.
Where’s your sense of spirit? Do you want to create an independent Scottish democracy and hold the reins to your own economy?
Take it from a country with balls of steel and a documented dependence on amphetamines. Take it from a country that has and will hand anyone or anything its ass with an imperialist vigor that would give most grown men a painfully hard erection; the type of erection that an industrial strength animal tranquilizer wouldn’t be able to tame. If you’re gunning for independence, you simply have to have dramatic nighttime horse-riding. You need massacres and better overall PR spin. You need memorable battles. You’ve got to be able to look your wife in the eyes and tell her you never loved her. Never. You need to be able to take a massive pull from this bottle of whiskey like I’m about to do right now. Fucking watch. Christ.
A good independence story needs …provocative shit. Like Braveheart! Was that you or us? I can’t remember, but it doesn’t matter. I’m pretty sure Braveheart was us. No, shut up. Just shut the hell up for like one goddamned second and listen. You’re missing the point. Look, you got any money on you?
OK, whatever. No, it’s fine. It’s just that I’m almost out of Prozac and my patience is wearing thin. Look, no one cares about old men casting votes. A real government lays its foundations on the cadavers of thousands of untrained patriots. A real government doesn’t ever miss people like my wife.
A real government isn’t sad and lonely. Drink a little of this, it’ll put some hair on your chest.
Look, you’re a good kid. I like you, even. But if you don’t figure your shit out, and do it fast, you’ll never be anywhere near as great as me.
Regards,
America
