
A 4th of July Dispatch from the British Founder of DeathJuice, Trapped Somewhere in Utah
Here we are again — July 4th — the day Americans gather to celebrate breaking up with Britain by launching small-scale explosions into the sky and shouting “WOO” with enough conviction to scare livestock.
As a proud Brit — currently exiled in the Utah desert — I’ve had the rare pleasure of observing this sacred event from within the belly of the beast. And I must say:
There is no celebration of freedom quite like wrapping yourself in a flag, eating 19 hot dogs, and then burning down your neighbor’s lawn with a rogue Roman candle.
🧨 America: Where Everything Is Legal Except DeathJuice
Let’s cut to the core hypocrisy, shall we?
In this nation of so-called “freedom”, I can legally:
- Open-carry an AR-15 into a Cracker Barrel
- Deep fry an entire turkey in a bucket of motor oil
- Buy prescription narcotics and a 64oz Pepsi at the same gas station
- Drive a lifted truck that runs on dreams and diesel fumes
But can I, the literal founder of DeathJuice, sell a can of the world’s most unhinged beverage here?
Absolutely not.
It’s banned.
Too unstable.
Too edgy.
Too much actual flavor, apparently.
This country trusts you with a flamethrower and a college education you’ll never pay off —
but not a neon blackcurrant energy drink that kicks your soul in the teeth.
🎇 The Great American Contradiction
You call it freedom.
But from where I’m sitting — sweating in a lawn chair in Utah, listening to someone explain why they put bacon in their apple pie — it looks more like a freedom-shaped costume stitched together with denial, Red #40, and suburban rage.
“We’re free!”
(But our food has warning labels in 4 languages.)
“We beat the British!”
(But still use Imperial measurements and spell colour wrong.)
“This is the greatest country on Earth!”
(Except, apparently, for the part where we’re not allowed to sell DeathJuice.)
🥤Let Them Have Pepsi
So here’s to you, America.
Enjoy your fireworks, your propane, your plastic flags and your idea of liberty.
Drink your flat, lukewarm Pepsi and call it a revolution.
Sing about freedom while being watched by six different agencies because you Googled how to make bread from scratch.
Meanwhile, I’ll be here — sunburnt, slightly bitter, and sipping DeathJuice from a smuggled can while the neighbors accidentally blow up a kiddie pool.
Because freedom — real freedom — tastes like artificial berry rage and comes in a can so illegal it might as well be a war crime.
Yours in sarcasm,
Still British,
Still Banned,
And Still More Free Than Most of the Free World
#DeathJuice
#BannedInTheUSA
#IndependunceDay
#FreedomButMakeItCorporate
#LetThemHavePepsi
#StuckInUtahWithMyFaceMelted