My Country 'Tis a Shit
Sweet land of idiots, for thee I groan.
My Country ‘Tis a Shit
Tempo: Funeral dirge
Sung in the key of gloom
My country 'tis a shit,
sweet land of idiots,
for thee I groan;
land where we voted bad,
for he who makes me mad,
so I hurled my iPad—
and broke my phone.
My native country, you,
don’t have a fucking clue,
thy name I shout;
I try to understand,
why people love that man,
but it hurts my brainpan
then I pass out.
Let ravens take my eyes,
vultures eat my insides,
I shall not cry;
give me the ‘lectric chair,
or feed me to a bear,
poison my underwear…
I want to diiiiiiiiiie!
The chase for 500…
Chortle launched 23 weeks ago today with exactly zero subscribers. As of publication time this morning, we’re up to 465 total subscribers — including 75 fine folks in our paid tier. Incredible stuff!
I’m thrilled with Chortle’s growth and very grateful to every reader who has given us a chance. Some elementary math (my specialty) tells me that we’re averaging around 20 new subscribers per week — but I think we can do even better than that.
We only need 35 more subscribers to hit 500! Help us out by sharing Chortle — or by becoming a paid subscriber. I hate to be that guy, but: humor is more important than ever. Send Chortle to someone you think might need a laugh.
*bald eagle sadly screeches*
The poem captures my feelings perfectly. Horrified. Heartbroken. Angry.