Procrastination Destination: My Letter to Queen Elizabeth II

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Hello, sweet student. Are you here to find some motivating blog post to make sure you’re studying for finals? Too bad, looks like you’re getting sucked into *~Procrastination Destination*~. We’re here for you while you don’t study for your exams, because we’re not studying for them either. Sit back, relax, and watch your GPA plummet as you spend your time on this here website. 

Tl;dr: this is a plea for the UK to take us back. Leave the EU, but take us. I’d love to assimilate into the culture dedicated to a constant stream of tea and calling French fries chips. Also, I would be *this* much closer to meeting Eddie Redmayne, which is already incentive enough.

So, here we go:

Dear Queen Elizabeth (also known as literally the most ~badass~ grandma known, with the exception of RBG),

Look, I know. We’ve kept you on read and subtweeted you for the past three hundred years. I know, we are total assholes. We changed our damn accents, and we traded our teacups for coffee mugs. We started making fun of you for adding milk to your Earl Grey tea. We, literally, went to war with you. Not to mention we *lowkey* stole that one boy band from you. No, not the Beatles. The other one. Although, the other one is still applicable.

What I’m trying to say is that–yeah, I guess–we don’t deserve to be taken back. But, Liz, hear me out: I have a great proposal. Save us from the seemingly inevitable cheese doodle leader, and I will stop complaining that the next season of Sherlock still hasn’t been released. At the end of the day, you will go down in history as the badass grandma who took back ‘Murica, all the while saving us from the cheesy swamp that is boiling over.

I know, this may be a difficult process. There’s a whole slew of legal issues that will probably end up confusing both you and me. But fear not, Lizzie, for I have compiled an 10 point action plan to make this change of power so easy you won’t believe it’s not Lobbying cheating. All of the knowledge is my own, so don’t bothering scouring Google Scholar to find my sources. It’s all in *taps forehead* here, Lizzie ‘Do.

~~~*THE 10 POINT ACTION PLAN FOR ‘MURICA TO BECOME ‘BRITRICA*~~~

  1. Confine Donald J. Trump to a Doritos bag. Don’t worry, he won’t suffocate. The bags are around 98% air anyways.
  2. While Donald is fermenting into his true cheese doodle/dorito/nacho form, distract the government. This should be fairly easy, considering the fact that Ted Cruz was able to distract the gov’t from getting shit done by reading a children’s book. A small suggestion: find a poorly written erotica; there is no actual reason behind this. I just want to see how uncomfortable they get.
  3. While the assholes politicians are cringing due to horrible character development, save Bernie. You can most likely get his attention using a small bird. He will understand. He will know. We cannot risk losing him. (Side note: he will also be the Lord Overseer of this newfound ‘Britrica. It’s what he deserves.)
  4. Place Bernie in a small Vermont cabin for safekeeping. Just tell him that he is safe, and an education revolution is under way. While he tries to explain you his tax policy to support free public education, flee. The country is now in your hands, and you cannot waste any time. The gridlock in Congress has wasted too many precious years, and we do not have a pitstop for “Taxation Tea Time.” (Although, hey, that would be really cool. Bernie, hmu. I make a mean green tea.)
  5. Remove the White House like you’ll remove the patriarchy from this country. I suggest lifting it from its foundation and place it a few blocks away. Let the Obamas stay. We will obviously need a figurehead family to help Americans cope. This way, we’ll have a beautiful family to provide the support.
  6. Build an equivalent to both Parliament and Buckingham Palace in the White House’s place, however, get Google in on this; I want to see a more modern, nap-pod friendly zone for our new politicians to passive aggressively take naps when their enemies acquaintances are speaking.
  7. Grab yo bags. You’re going across the pond. A pantsuit created by the essence of a bald eagle will only result in waves of support from your new people. Make sure to distribute dozens of pies of pizza to your new electorate. Win their hearts with pounds upon pounds of assorted meat slices. Drizzle some hot dogs over the midwest. Kale over the West Coast. Coffee over the East Coast. (It should be noted that I do not want to address the South. That’s up to you, ma’am. I guess you could shower some butter…Paula Deen has taught me that good ‘ol Southern cookin’ can’t stop without butter.)
  8. Once you settle into your new home, go to your porch. It should be adorned with delicious biscuits. Take one in your hand and proceed to look into the camera directly in front of you. Say the following words: Hello, America. Or..should I say…’Britrica. Wait for cheers. I am so happy to see you all finally come back. I have…missed…you…so…much. End your speech. Go back inside. Enjoy more biscuits.
  9. Now that the entirety of America is confused/elated(? perhaps), take the time to steal the Constitution and write in an expiration date. It should read as: January (2)1, 2017*. Go towards the end of the document, and write this: *Or if a cheese doodle fucks up the popular vote and takes the electoral college. I told you guys this would be a dumb idea. Anyways, I, Queen Liz-Liz, can take over if such events happen before he (patriarchal assumption) gets elected. Dry the ink. Before you place the aged document back into its shrine, add one more amendment. Talk about dying gorillas. I will not give you any more context.
  10. Sit back on your royal throne. Check Breitbart. Relish in your new colony. The last step remains. Do exactly the following: remove the “Under God” from the Pledge. I mean, you could replace it from something else. That’s totally up to you. I’ll leave that for you to decide.

And there ya have it, Queen Lizzie. ‘Merica is now yours. It’s not that hard, right? Look, now you have two palaces and a napping pod. Actually, mutiple napping pods. You can totally thank me later for that.

Let’s meet up for tea sometime?

Best wishes,

Mel