There's President's Day, of course, when we honor America's greatest presidents, and Groundhog Day, when we honor America's greatest groundhogs.
This month we have the Fourth of July, when we celebrate our country's independence by drinking our body weight in Milwaukee's Best and tying roman candles to our cat's tail. Not that Team Last Call would ever do something like that. But we bet it's really, really funny. And disgustingly inhumane. But really funny.
For those of you who have some extra patriotism to work out of your systems and/or leftover Milwaukee's Best, Team Last Call has some exciting news: Something wonderful has happened that has given Americans yet another reason to celebrate.
No, George Bush hasn't been impeached. Yet. And no, Kevin Federline's album hasn't come out yet. What Team Last Call is referring to is the May 12 announcement that the Hummer, that laughably obnoxious vehicle-of-choice for balding, impotent white men across America, has officially been discontinued. Terminated. Schmutzed.
General Motors made the announcement after sales of the Viagra-pill-on-wheels fell sharply in 2006; by mid-May, fewer than 100 had sold across the country. This, of course, is hilarious.
In fact, according to the Washington Post, the entire Hummer group has been outsold this year by the Toyota Prius, a gas-electric hybrid. That's a pretty remarkable thing, if you think about it. The little guy is finally winning. It's like that scene at the end of "Revenge of the Nerds" when they have the big talent show and the nerds win the crowd over with their crazy techno-rap-Elvis song, and then the head nerd puts on a Darth Vader costume and has sex with the football captain's girl in the Moon Room. Know what I mean?
There are currently two main theories explaining the Hummer's decline in popularity. The first comes down to money. The H1's basic model has a price tag of $140,000, which, in case you were wondering, is more than you paid for your house. Add in the fact that Hummers average less than 10 miles to the gallon, and that gas prices have surpassed the $3/gallon mark in most parts of the country, and it's understandable that people are starting to look for alternate ways of showing the world just how big their testicles aren't.
Here's the funny part: if this theory is true, then we have George Bush to thank. We never would have been able to break the $3/gallon mark without him! And here we thought his only contributions were leading America into a war under false pretenses, creating a culture of fear in order to manipulate popular opinion and teaching children everywhere the wrong way to say "nuclear."
The second theory explaining the declining popularity of Hummers is that Americans are finally starting to realize that driving a Hummer makes you how can I put this delicately? a turd.
If this is the case, then clearly there is only one group of people to thank: Team Last Call.
Youre welcome.
For years, we here at Team Last Call have been active members in the fight against Hummers and the people who drive them (turds), as well as the fight against the music of Nickelback and the fight against people not having sex with Team Last Call. But mostly in the fight against Hummers.
We took it on as our personal mission to educate our readers about Hummers. It has been our goal to deliver the facts in a fair and balanced way, so that our readers can make their own informed decisions as to whether or not people who drive Hummers carry the mark of Satan. It would do no good for us to just cram rhetoric down our readers' throats; we find it's much better to arm the people with facts and then let them judge for themselves if people who drive Hummers are trying to compensate for certain shortcomings, by which we mean teeny, tiny genitalia. It's like that old saying: give a man a fish, and he eats for a day; teach a man to fish, and people who drive Hummers are impotent.
Granted, it doesn't take a genius to recognize that Hummers are morally reprehensible; their size alone makes them the most obvious symbol of over-consumption, wastefulness and selfishness (and tiny genitalia) in American culture. Team Last Call is not the first to notice this, and we're certainly not alone in our disdain for these five-ton ass-mobiles. (Check out the website FUH2.com, where thousands of people have posted photos of themselves giving Hummers the one-finger salute. It's kind of glorious.)
And now, at long last, the giant has fallen. Again, you're welcome.
Does this mean the crisis is over? No, I'm afraid not. While we've managed to kill off the Hummer, its evil spawn the smaller but no less offensive H2 and H3 continue on.
It's kind of like one of those horror movie series where the original monster is dead, so you think you're safe, and then BAM! Out of nowhere you learn that the monster somehow found time between all of its maiming and killing to make some sweet, sweet monster love, and now its son is picking up exactly where its father left off. After "Dracula" there was "Son of Dracula." After "Frankenstein" there was "Son of Frankenstein." After "George H. W. Bush" there was well, you know.
It's a similar story with the H2 and H3. They may not be as obviously craptastic as the original Hummer, but they're just as evil in their own special way. General Motors isn't fooling anybody, and neither are the people who buy these things. Just because the vehicles are slightly smaller doesn't make you any less of a turd for driving one. It's like going out in your backyard and trying to dig just half a hole; no matter how you look at it, its still a hole. A-hole.
The way I figure it, if you're going to be a turd, then be a turd. Don't be half a turd. Don't be a card-carrying member of the turd union and then try to hide it. Be a turd with pride. That way, the rest of us can be more certain about whose house we should be egging.
Today, readers, we celebrate. But tomorrow we continue the fight. We must persevere against all opposition, including the incoherent letters we'll be receiving from Hummer drivers after this column is published. Now if you'll excuse me, I've got a meeting in the Moon Room. Has anyone seen my Darth helmet?
