Even though the entire United States is celebrating its independence this long weekend with drinking and showering loved ones in fire, Editor-in-Chief Jack O'Brien is still insisting that I write a column. He would rather I cook up genius alone in a dark room than love my country with beer and explosions because Jack O'Brien hates fun, and he hates America.

Jack would blow out her flame if he could.

What he doesn't seem to realize, however, is that this country was built on the back of ingenuity and resourcefulness. I have found a way to kill two bald eagles with one stone, commemorating our secession from England's tyranny while still bending to Jack's. I will honor my revolutionary forefathers with a revolutionary idea: I'm going to write about monkeys while getting drunk. Happy birthday, America. This one is for you.

The rules here are simple: I will extol the virtues of my favorite kinds of monkeys and any time I need to research anything (as denoted by an asterisk), I will drink. I'm choosing monkeys because I need a topic I already know well enough that this experiment won't end with a stomach pump. Also, hunting for facts about monkeys is something I would do while drunk anyway so I'm drastically reducing the chances that I'll get bored and wander away. With any luck I will wake up tomorrow with a column written, but if it ends with me asphyxiating on my own vomit then I think we all know who to blame.