Saturday, August 14, 2010

sizes come in small, medium, large, and American. :(

I work two jobs for one reason: travel. It is one of the most important things to me- I have to see how other people do life, how they spend their time on earth. I have been to a handful of foreign countries and bounced around the USA. I'm very grateful for this opportunity and hope the blessing of travel continues.

During my out-of-country travels, I noticed something: America is fucking FAT. I know you've probably heard that a million times before, but going to another country and not seeing a single obese person makes it a reality; it's depressing. I even noticed how upset I would get with my portions when going out for a meal- I thought they were serving me an appetizer where a meal should be. To add insult to injury, instead of giving me my beverage in the standard American bucket, they poured it in a dixie refills included!

After the meal however, I noticed something: I was satiated, I wasn't dying of thirst and I didn't have to take home leftovers that I wouldn't eat any goddamn way. An epiphany!

We are so used to overindulgence in our country, that anything short of a buffet is starvation. And people wonder why the motor scooter is taking the place of the shopping cart. In France, Poland, Italy, Switzerland, etc I visited local grocery stores and was surprised that I did not see one motorized shopping cart. I didn't see one customer that shared a likeness with Java the Hut. Go figure.

I have, however, seen SOME attempts to make America fit. Public schools no longer serve full-calorie soda and have cut back on their service of empty calorie foods. But this is a far cry from health! American doctors always wish to blame it on "genetics"- some people just can't help it. Well, the last time I checked, they had "genetics" in Europe, but somehow physically fit "genetics." I'm not a biology specialist, but I call bullshit on that excuse.

Let's break our dinner plates in half, buy a 20 oz instead of a two liter and buy one instead of "buy two get one free"; there needs to be a change here.


Friday, August 13, 2010

Brooklyn sees Project 86, I see The Faux Paus, I love ice cream, Nicole gets an aprtment in Chicago and a new idea for birthdays.

I had to be up at six AM this morning; I haven't been getting to bed at a decent hour lately. I like to stay up all night- that's the best time to read and write...even grocery shop. It's almost like having a world to yourself- a world void of people AND sunlight; fun. Anyways, since I knew I wouldn't be making it to bed early, I decided to go with a friend to see The Faux Paus. I've explained in a previous blog that I'm a total fuckwaste when it comes to writing about music, but I have to say I DID enjoy myself.
The Faux Paus is a three-piece chick band from Toledo, Ohio (P.S. I love female vocals). Two of the members take turns singing, and more often than not, sing in chorus...and sometimes NOT in chorus (you'd have to be there...AMAZING). One of the singers (Amanda) plays piano/guitar/bass and the other one (Hannah) plays........wait for it........piano/guitar/bass. These gals remind me of The Heartless Bastards- beautifully ugly vocals, simple piano, and catchy, trance-like guitar chords...yep, The Heartless Bastards, but with a chick beating the shit outta the drums in the background. They make me warm, make my left foot do the standing-in-place-break-pedal-dance, all while dodging the label: POP. I don't care for the term "indie", but I don't really know shit about music and its music-y lexicon, so I guess I'd have to say they are "indie." AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH. Anyways, the bar was nowhere near crowded, so I felt engulfed by their pretty noise. Meow.
My cousin Brooklyn went to go see Project 86 that same night. He did a shitty job of reporting back to me about the show, so I can't tell you much about them; I've only heard two things: they are fucking heavy and they are Christian. Maybe Brooklyn was too busy to report because he was busy receiving text messages from my readers (I think he enjoyed the movie quote text the most; thanks Meg). Moving along...Brooklyn had six beers at the show and I feel as though he is mellowing out in his old age, or perhaps Tracy is a positive influence on his behavior. Today, he gave out my number via Facebook and I thought it hilarious; I feel as though no one truly wants privacy anymore, so fuck it to hell. I love you Brooklyn.

Enough about music, let's talk ice cream. I like it; I eat it every chance I get. Fuck. It's good. Enough said.

This just in: my not so good friend yet, Nicole (the promise ring chick) just got an apartment in Chicago. Dear Nicole, I just so happen to like art, I wanna visit you and sleep on your couch. If you ever get a chance to look at a black and white photo of Nicole, I suggest you do so. If you see a color photo of Nicole, good for you. Back to her apartment: I wouldn't mind sleeping in her broom closet if it means a free place to crash- that city is fucking expensive. I guess I just don't understand a cold, windy city where everyone wears black (depressing!) being a sought after place to live, but to each his/her own. A great place to visit though. if you visit in March, you get a chance to see what seems to be an army of black coated clones walking down the street; that's basically performance art in my book.  Nicole...lets be friends.

Last up: a new idea for birthdays. I told my family not to get me presents this year. All they give me is money anyways, that doesn't take a lot of thought (and I want people to think!!!!) I informed my family to each write me a letter. In the letter, they were to describe one of their goals and list the steps they will take in order to achieve that goal. To make a long story short, I got money. However, my sister DID write me a poem inside my card which counts as thought! I'm getting somewhere!!!!

Thursday, August 12, 2010

Check out Mark's blog.

I just started following my friend Mark's blog. I like his music posts; I usually describe music as "sweet" or "it sucks" so I enjoy reading interpretations of music written by people who can actually write about it.

Also, he has a funny passage about his neighbor mowing the lawn. His posts are poetic in a sense; check it out motherfuckies!

Promise ring???

I often wonder what people think about promise rings; it's a commitment to make a commitment. Commitment then, becomes a hierarchy. I think it would be interesting to add a few more rings before the promise ring, making it a sort of fun game where you can achieve higher levels by showing more devotion or coaxing your future wife into wanting to stick with you more and more as the levels progress. You could come up with fun names for each level; that would make it exciting. I can't think of any good names right now because I'm not feeling very creative. Please help me out; tell me what you think.

If you would like to speak to someone who has experience with a promise ring, please call Nicole at: (419) 344-4971. If you call or text her, be sure to give her an uplifting word or two, then ask her about promise rings.

"Out of a job yet? Keep buying foreign."

This bumper sticker....let me back track....
I think bumper stickers are for people with fixed ideas; I am not one of those people. If I were to have a bumper sticker, it would have my important statement, followed by: I may not feel like this next week. It seems as though the more I'm open to learn about other people and their view of the world, the more my convictions change. I can get as evangelical as the next guy, but I'm quick to feel the embarrassment that comes with that type of attitude, so I make an effort to change it.

Every time I see the "out of a job yet? keep buying foreign." bumper sticker, which has been a lot lately, I want to pull up to the driver and shout, "read the tag of your shirt you fucking moron!"

I drive a Toyota Corolla Sport. What did I take into consideration while car shopping the lot? Gas mileage.
The previously mentioned bumper sticker can usually be seen on the bumper of an American made Ford F-150 to F-350. Give me a fucking break! The only reason you need a an F-350 is if your hauling around recovered pieces of the Titanic.

If America wants us to buy American, our request is simple: start making economically efficient products.

Call my cousin Brooklyn and have a phone conversation with him

This is his cell number: (567) 202-5219

I encourage all who read this to call Brooklyn and ask him how he's doing; even a text will do. What a nifty social experiment.

What Brooklyn did on Wednesday.

I'm keeping Brooklyn on a short leash, monitoring his life, for two reasons: 1) he is a recently discovered family member, so I feel like I owe him extra attention 2) he is in his late twenties and this age brings about a lot of challenging questions/emotional struggles; some being: should I choose a life partner? Am I going to have children? What will my career be? What the fuck is wrong with me? My parents are just two fucked up people? Why didn't you tell me that when I was 14 and screaming that daily????!!!

I am sad to report that Brooklyn only drank one beer last night. That's like a heroin addict licking bag residue. I couldn't believe it when he informed me via text last night. Somehow, that makes me feel less related to him.

More on Brooklyn later.