Happy Labor Day, y'all! Let's take a moment to remember that we celebrate this holiday today -- and not May 1st -- because we aren't a bunch of fucking godless Communists... or French. GOD BLESS AMUHRIKA!
America's second most mustachioed president, Grover Cleavland actually made the September date the official American Labor Day because the May 1st date had already been co-opted by savages, anarchists and the like. Mr. Cleavland's mustache would not stand for such unseemly things, so he opted for the more Victorian-friendly end-of-summer picnic holiday so that every proper family would be able to spend some time sewing textiles outside of doors to make ends meet.
What a wholesome image! Father, with his stately whiskers properly waxed and Mother, with her whale-bone corset properly tightened, hurriedly sewing buttons on sturdy linens to be worn gentlemen with even statelier mustaches and women with even more constricted breathing! The children, dressed in sturdy dungarees, carrying loads of unhemmed shirts by the satchel for mummy and daddy to sew, while the late summer sun shines down upon this blessed image of family!
Tomorrow, it is back to the factory floor for this industrious, Christian family. Back to school for the children? Nonsense! What schooling do seven-year-olds need? With their sturdy, youthful backs, those delightful scamps will go far! Perhaps, one day, they will be strong enough to haul coal from the bounty'ous Earth or even the wond'rous new mineral Polonium discovered by the Pollack scientistress, Mrs. Pierre Curie.
Ah, the good ol' days.
Enough of this nonsense! This was my warm up writing for the day. I'm actually working on something for the McSweeney's column contest. It's due Friday and I have an idea that I'm trying to flesh out. I love to flesh things... out. Man, that phrase always creeps me out.
I'm also going to work on Canto II of my perversion of Dante's classic epic poem, so stand by to be disappointed!
Wish me luck, or something.
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