Dana Lee wrote:
I never wanted to be the National Bird. There was so much pressure on me. I had to look the best every second of the day. I had to make sure to sit a certain way to show my regality. I had to make sure I was not seen as vicious for the sake of the children. People look up to me. They hold me on a pedestal.
But now, as I take my last breath, I know that I will be going to a good place. I know that I have served my country well.
Melody Joy wrote:
I know my time is drawing near, and so here I write my last confession: I never understood why they called me “bald,” nor do I understand why my kind has been chosen as the symbol of America. I mean, we’re pretty cool birds, I guess, but so are all the other eagles.
Pope Jon wrote:
I've been doing it my entire life. Or at least, as soon as I realized that I'm a national mascot. It was just so fitting, that I couldn't think of anything better to do with my unique circumstances.
The Lincoln Memorial, The White House, the Mall of America, the Golden Gate Bridge, even Disney Land. I've been to them all, and I've left my mark.
Each and every visit resulted in nearly identical reactions from the folks around. Some foreign tourists would be around, to be sure, but it was always mostly Americans. They felt that sense of pride in their country, and reverence for the history of the country they loved.
So while I perched, posed as tall, scenic, and American as I could manage to look, they would take pictures. But I would always wait. When they got closer, and attempted to get their friends or family in the picture with me, that's when I'd strike.
I couldn't ever get everyone with one shot, but I could always get a few at a time, just as the cameras flashed.
That's the American dream: pooping on strangers and getting away with it.
For more information on our blog, please read our welcome page by clicking here.
No comments:
Post a Comment