Can’t sleep and feeling silly

Dear Australia,

You are exactly who I want to be when I grow up. You are easily distinguished on a map, which is wonderful, because it guarantees that everyone can laugh when a bad movie inexplicably uses a map of you when it means a completely other country.

Your authors have a grand history of literature that extends longer than people might know. I haven’t read all of it, but I can say that I have yet to read an Australian author whom I did not like. That is special. I’m a horrible nit-picky brat. In particular, Jaclyn Moriarty is amazing.

All one has to do to invoke an image of bad-assery is to say your name.

Australia.

There. Now everyone is thinking about explosions and surviving a battle to the death with a thousand t-rexes. Australia is unquestionably badass. We respond on a primal level.

You have the best beaches in the world. There is even a tax for them, but luckily it only affects people who want to buy video games.

Good night, Australia. Keep up the awesomeness levels. Nobody can touch you.

 

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