“Go ahead, AFFotD. Try to sound informed when you talk about us.”
~A weirdly smug Montana resident
It’s been a long, weird, occasionally rage inducing ride, but we’re nearing the end of our American States of America series where we tell you, the residents of individual states in America, what the most American quality of your home state is, no matter how much you disagree. Shut up Kansas, we don’t care what you have to say we’re sticking with Superman as your most American trait. Deal. When it comes to America, our word is gospel.
Except for Montana. We don’t have a goddamn clue what to say about Montana. But we made a promise, and that’s a promise we can keep. May Teddy Roosevelt’s ghost have mercy on our souls.
“This is the best cocaine ever, I am a fucking BEAST!”
America has a complex relationship with tragedy. Everyone likes The Shawshank Redemption, but on it’s opening weekend more people went to see The Little Rascals and The Mask. We know Shakespeare’s greatest plays were tragedies, but we don’t give a shit because, come on, plays? We laugh when we see a full grown man get smashed in the groin with a baseball bat, but get pissed off when our lame friend gets all worried and asks, “Is he gonna be able to have kids again?” Tragedy makes us uncomfortable, especially in instances where we see two American flames flicker and extinguish. We love to highlight all that is American, but we prefer to shield ourselves from the tragedy of Americans.
That is, unless a mountain of cocaine is involved, and then we’re all about that shit.
Fair warning, this article will be like 80% cocaine jokes and 20% glossing over the tragedy of a hit and run death