Europeans are annoying as hell.

I don’t live in America anymore, which means I now have the distinct misfortune of interacting with Europeans on a daily basis—also known as the world’s most aggressively mediocre philosophers. Through grueling research (pounding cheap rum in dive bars) I’ve made a groundbreaking discovery: the United States of America lives permanently, irrevocably, and rent free in their minds. I’m not talking about a dingy little corner studio. No. America owns a sky palace in there—full-blown luxury penthouse suite, floor-to-ceiling windows, golden bidet, personal butler, and a 24/7 steak buffet served by bald eagles wearing sunglasses and toting AR-15’s. These people will go from “Hi, nice weather” to “ORANGE MAN BAD and your healthcare system is a human rights violation” faster than a fucking Dodge Challenger. Unprompted, every single time. Hearing an American accent sets off some kind of ancient European defense mechanism—like a mental fire alarm that only goes off when freedom is near. School shootings! Medical bills! Trump! Guns! Look, on some level, I get it. America has problems. But the deranged glee they get from pointing them out isn’t from being a concerned global citizen. It’s from being psychotically obsessed with a country you’ve never been to. My theory is they had to come up with a new national pastime because soccer is lame and gay. It’s 90 minutes of guys pretending to be injured and kicking a ball back and forth for an incredible endgame score of 0 to 0. So what did Europe do? They created a new game called “Let’s All Pretend We’re Better Than America”, where the points don’t matter and at the end of the day, you return to your apartment with one water temperature and 60% income tax. Maybe if they spent half as much time building something as they do screaming about the U.S., they’d finally achieve their greatest dream: being relevant again. But until then, we’ll be enjoying the luxury penthouse inside your brain, eating a cheeseburger.