Other Countries: Do They Even Exist? - By Jonny Boy

Jonny Boy is, without question, the most sour individual I have ever had the pleasure of speaking to.  He strives to drench every word with hate and contempt when he addresses anyone.  It is with great pleasure that I unleash him on you.


---

As I sit here in my revolving chair while the scent of cranberry and white chocolate scones penetrates my nostrils, I should be thinking about the situation in Afghanistan, and the travesties which are apparently occurring there. I don't know. I haven't seen them. For all I've seen, Afghanistan could be a wonderful land of economic prosperity where unicorns run rampant trampling and/or stabbing terrorists. A land where the rivers run red with the spilled blood of lollipops, and the deserts are littered with the forgotten rotting corpses of gnomes who thought it'd be a half decent idea to poke the cotton candy monster with a candy cane he stole from old man Santa's lawn, who chased him away with a self-esteem shotgun which also shoots candy corn or some shit like that.

If some asshole runs into my home telling me the goddamn Batman is outside my house kicking old ladies in the ribcage, shouting profanities relating to modern art, and throwing various bat paraphernalia, I probably wouldn't trust him as far as I could throw him, which isn't far, because the man in question bursting through my door is a total fatass. I haven't seen these abdominal atrocities myself, so I have no reason to believe such a claim. This man will likely soon find the business end of broom or some other household item with an equally uncomfortable business end shoved somewhere where having any business end of anything is uncomfortable, regardless of previous business end comfort before the aforementioned shoving.

The question here is, do other countries actually exist? No. They do not. There is no Russia. There is no Australia. There is no Saskatchewan. There is only Canada, which I am currently petitioning to be changed to Awesome Ninja Fairy Land Which Also Has Maple Syrup. I have a long road to hoe. I'm talking to a person, and I mention something about soccer, then they'll probably mention something, in the strain of being a smug asshole, about how it's called football in England. I then retort coolly with a dispute that goes a little like this:

Stoopid Jim: You know, in England, it's called Football.
Awesome Jonny: I believe you are mistaken. England does not exist.
Stoopid Jim: (something more stoopid you would not believe)
Awesome Jonny: I have no time for this nonsense.

At this point, you should already have a blunt object akin to a sharp object but not actually in your hand. Proceed to wield appropriately, then get on your motorcycle which you probably own and know how to ride, and ride off into the sunset, then turn around and drive into the sunrise. Repeat for five days or until you run over somebody important. This will be proof of the nonexistence of other countries. Now put that in your pipe and smoke it then die of cancer years later with your sobbing family at your bedside while you assure them it's all going to be alright when you know the opposite is true (say this to a doctor I dare you).


---


That was not nearly as scathing as I thought it would be.  Are you going soft on us, Jonny?