This is how I invited my friends to do the Freedom Trail with me this Monday.
Hey guys, I have a question: you know what’s really fucking cool? Boston. Our fair city. Guess what happened here like two hundred years ago. Oh, you can’t, because you’ve never done the Freedom Trail? Okay, I’ll tell you. OUR FUCKING COUNTRY’S INDEPENDENCE WAS FUCKING FOUGHT FOR HERE. NO BIG DEAL. A bunch of raggedy-ass farmer-soldiers took down a shitload of red coats while wearing some fucking overalls or whatever the colonial equivalent was at the time. Like it was nothing. Bam. Did it with their fucking eyes closed. And now there’s a red-brick walking trail that leads you to sixteen nationally significant historic sites. Museums, churches, burying grounds, several totally phallic objects, many, many plaques about patriots, a fucking ship—somebody call Nicholas Cage, cause we got some NATIONAL TREASURES all up in this.
Want to hear something that will blow your fucking mind? MOTHER GOOSE WAS REAL. And we’re gonna see her grave (downer) and then we’re gonna talk about the fucking nursery rhymes that she wrote that little babies STILL like to listen to (siiiick). We’re gonna go to the church that Benjamin-fucking-Franklin went to on a semi-regular basis when he wasn’t banging a bunch of French ladies/ being sassy in France/Philadelphia, respectively. We’re gonna see the Paul Revere House, with its sick as hell Georgian architecture and “typical of colonial living arrangements” interior design.
Speaking of Ben Franklin, guess what kind of statue we’ll be seeing on this tour? One of Mr. Franklin himself. I am SO down to thank him for inventing the glass harmonica and the post office.
Hey, there’s this little quote I know. It’s goes a little something like this: “No taxation without representation.” Oh, you know what I’m talking about? You know how that’s like a major TENET of our country? Oh, cool, cause we’re gonna go to where it ORIGINATED—you know, it’s just Faneuil Hall, the completely-fucking-impossible to spell douchey bar district in Boston. And speaking of douchey bars, we’re definitely getting a beer at some point, because this trail takes like three hours and, I don’t know, that’s good enough of a reason for me.
And then we’re gonna get some pastries in the North End and enjoy the crisp fucking breeze of a beautiful October day. We’re gonna see the shit out of some sites, friends. This Monday. Be there.
