America, you are a dysfunctional ex-girlfriend.

Damnit America, you’re so hard to hate.

Here I’ve spent years slamming your shitastic culinary palette and then you completely blow my mind with one of the best Italian meals I’ve eaten in years and all for a whopping $11. I tried desperately to scientifically prove that your citizens are a bunch of gun toting inbreeds and low and behold the people who surround me at work are some of the kindest, most intelligent and OPEN MINDED individuals I’ve ever met. Never mind the fact that they exude that honeymoon period charisma which accompanies every move/vacation. Then you elect a Brother as leader of the nation. Do you smell that? It’s my mind completely melting.

America, I’ve told some nasty rumours about what a shit significant other you are to Canada. Now, I’m not willing to retract it all but somehow the one-sided nature has been diminished. I now see that we as a nation of submissive, snow-loving, maple syrup swilling, purely awesome Great White Northerners were complacent in this tainted relationship as we glommed onto you, the dominant power figure.

America, you are a loveble yet completely bat-shit crazy ex-girlfriend. You’re hard to hate, hard to love and you’re as complex as you are simple. Now that I live here, I’ll do my best to forgive. I’ll do my best to relish that which is good. And like any significant other, I’ll do my best to pretend that I didn’t notice that you took a massive stinky and seriously loud shit after we went for Indian.

America. While I’m here, I’ll light a match and smile and I’ll act surprised if you admit it.

Please keep proving me wrong.

-          Me.

PS. America, I know you took the coffee set we got as a joint gift. You know it’s fucked up but let’s let bygones be bygones.