another one?

Yesterday evening, and I'm not trying to brag, I dined at a Mexican restaurant (I enjoy the foods of other cultures. I'm very ["very" is a tad strong] open-minded.) Near the close of my meal, I heard from the booth behind me, which was at the time supporting a family of four, a strange phrase which one does not very often hear. The father said to the two young daughters (aged two and four by my estimation; I wasn't checking I.D.'s or anything), and I quote, "Stop strangling each other." So, that goes a little way to tell you how my evening took a delightful turn for the more interesting.

I don't have any main topic about which I would like to write today, but I figure somebody might read today's post and have something resonate with them, so here goes:

In advertisements for beer companies, many corporations seem to stress how "cold" their beer is, that it is in fact the "coldest" beer on the market. But isn't that more up to the consumer? They are the ones doing the refrigerating, so I think that is a moot point in advertisements. Also, beer companies are embracing the color-changing packaging, what tells the consumer when their beer is cold. I have a theory on this: if you cannot FEEL the coldness of your beverage with your appendages, PERHAPS YOU SHOULD TAKE A BREAK FROM THE ALCOHOL.

Who is the most unsettlingly creepy individual in a television advertisement? I have heard votes for "Flo" from the Progressive insurance commercials, however I maintain, as have others, that the title of world-class ad creeper belongs to the guy in the Taco Bell commercials who will only have his order taken from "Denise." If you haven't seen this commercial, look it up on youtube. This guy gives me shivering reactions usually reserved for witnessing the birthing process.

On the same topic of television ad personalities, I have come up with a short list of unlikable ones:

Luke Wilson, AT&T; I wish he would just go back to making movies that people don't watch.

Denis Leary, Ford; his voice and overall demeanor just rub me the wrong way.

On the other hand, the commercial with Biz Markie is sublime; the part where Andy Milonakis kisses his helmet is strange, but I let it slide.

Why aren't depot and despot pronounced the same way?

Why can't advertisers say "Super Bowl" in their ads? They always say "the big game." That's unclear; what if their priorities are different from mine?

The Vespa is an example of something that causes mixed reactions. Whenever we see somebody driving one around, we laugh and chastise them for their clear social ignorance and apparent inability to relate to others; on the other hand, we all think it would be kind of fun to drive one around.

Why do awards for "hustle" and "good sportsmanship" still exist? In the good ol' days, the kids who were bad at sports accepted it and got good grades, leading to successful careers in the real world.

Why do modern-day sculptures seem to suck so much? During the renaissance, people made sculptures of people that were life-like; today it seems like it's just a bunch of phallic images constructed from stolen trash that people have welded together.

I work at a sporting goods retailer, and people often come to me while I am in the footwear department (department is a generous term) and ask me what's in style today. To which I respond, "I work at Big 5 and live with my parents." That does a pretty good job of stifling other questions that might ask for my judgment on their purchase choices.

Well, that's enough anger on virtual paper for today. Have a good weekend everybody. Chances are I miss you guys. Not all of you, but some of you for sure. (But seriously, not all of you)

". . . some call me the gangster of love. . . ."

-Steve Miller, self-proclaimed child-shoeing "Maurice," who plays his music in the sun, while receiving his loving on the run.

the post that nearly took shape, part 2

Ah, a continuation from yesterday. What a delight (you must be saying to yourself).

Yesterday's post was focused on the importance of making travel and thereby the culturing of one's self a priority in life. Today's post is (I think) just as important (though I admittedly have a poor grasp on what other people find important): how not to be a dirtbag whilst traveling!

That's right, folk(s[until my readership breaks one person, I won't know whether to use the plural forms or not]), today you have the unique opportunity to not be a piece of trash while traveling and representing a larger group of people.

Quick question: Which group of people (by nationality) are the least likable travelers?

The answer, of course, is . . . French people! That's right, according to a study by Time.com (http://www.time.com/time/world/article/0,8599,1820358,00.html?xid=feed-yahoo-full-world), French tourists have been rated the rudest tourists IN THE GALAXY (given our current knowledge about the existence of life on other planets, this actually fits)!

Now, before you begin dancing in the streets and singing "Our Country Tis Of Thee," keep in mind that a close second to French people are Americans (frowny face emoticon would be entered here, were emoticons in and of themselves not a sadistic tool used to keep young people uneducated).

This is rightfully troubling. But here is one thing in which you can make a difference (unlike voting or protests or providing aid to people)! That's right, you have the power, when you travel, to not behave like a depraved nincompoopish git, and by not behaving in that manner, actually changing public perspective about Americans!

Here is a list of some things that American tourists do and subtle tips that should be taken account on your next Alpine holiday or stumble along the Spanish Riviera:

1. "When I'm on vacation, I like to yell and be generally loud. It helps ensure that people will notice my presence and perhaps will inspire them to think about how much better I am than they." Tip: Stop yelling so dang much. It's incredibly obnoxious and a dead giveaway that you belong in the cabin in which you were born, rather than experiencing the beauties the world has to offer.

2. "I speak only English and I find it fitting that everyone else should as well. As such, I will make no attempt to understand others, and will use volume and slowness of speech to ensure that they understand me." Tip: TRY the local language. Even if you don't nail the pronunciation, locals will appreciate that you would rather sound like you don't know the language than to hear you scream "Sandwich" at them.

3. "I grip my handbag/travel suitcase even tighter and glare when someone different than me walks by. That way they know that I know that they are trying to perpetrate crimes against me, as is their fashion." Tip: While you should watch after your possessions, not everybody is a thief/criminal. Sometimes people even like to not be treated as a thief/criminal. Be decent to people.

4. "Things here are not exactly as they are at home, the waiter does not know what my 'usual' order is and the food is prepared differently! Because of this array of discrepancies, it is my duty as a human being to complain loudly, letting every patron within the given establishment that I am not satisfied." Tip: Things outside the U.S.A. are different than the things inside the U.S.A. That's part of the joy of traveling. New experiences.

Those were just several tips for people that travel. By avoiding these traditional American pitfalls, you can create new American generalizations; by being a good traveler, you pave the way for more American travelers, and we will be able to get rid of the stereotype that Americans are rude, whiny visitors. Who knows, we may achieve world peace yet. . . .

So, with that in mind, along with yesterday's post, get out there and see the world. Leave your mark on it, in a good way.

Note from the Editor

Wow, what an uplifting and inspiring post today's was. What a rarity to have such a cheery message. For fans who were put off by this, don't worry; it is a phase that is unlikely to last. Keep your heads up (or down, if you happen to be in a war zone).

"Everybody look at me, because I'm sailing on a boat."

-Andy Samberg, singing and acting Jewish person.

the post that nearly took shape, part 1

Wow, second post in as many days. Already I am feeling smothered. This will probably not become a habit. And I don't really have anything to say anyways.
Travel: do it. That's what this post is about. At this point, I haven't given a title to the blog. I am hoping something clever occurs to me, but that doesn't usually happen.
More than a fortnight ago, I was invited by a lovely family to go to a restaurant with them. The claim to fame of this particular restaurant, which shall remain nameless, was that the help serves you big bowls of peanuts, and you may "throw the shells straight on the floor!!!" (Extra exclamation points added to convey excitement, nay, feverishness, of the sayer of said phrase) This shocked me; I was not shocked that management would allow people to throw food-waste onto the floor, I was instead amazed by the sense of overwrought thrill that this apparently gives people. That was when I realized (realised for our British friends [the very thought that somebody across the pond would read this!]) how happy I am that I have traveled. Had I never been more than twenty-five miles from the hospital in which I was born, perhaps throwing discarded legume shells on the ground might be the pinnacle of not only my culinary, but also my transcendental and life, experiences.
After one has seen Prague's Charles Bridge in the moonlight, or even the Washington Monument, one tends to invest less of one's excitement threshold in the propelling of the dried casing of the oval seed of a South American plant onto the floor of a dusty roadhouse.
I am probably coming across as very self-assured, thinking I am better than others simply because I own a passport and have traveled; however, other people who have traveled almost absolutely feel the same way as I do in regards to this matter. It has long been quoted that roughly 20-35% of Americans own a passport, and I think the two largest factors to blame for this are ignorance and complacency, two things that are very easily treatable.
My suggestion as I come to the close of my first part of this subject?
Get a passport and travel, or at least travel the U.S.A. You may think things can't possibly get any better than the town in which you live, but trust me, it get's so much better.
To be continued. . . .

"Ooh! OoOOooh! Ooh! Papers. . . ."

-Usher Raymond IV, confessionary enjoyer of nightclubs.

The long-heralded history of tamob

Welcome friends and family (because those are clearly the only people who would even have the slightest passing interest in what might spray out of my mind/mouth/fingers) to tamob. Please allow me to begin this inaugural post by saying how disgusted I am that I have come to the point in my life that I think a blog would be merited.

I enjoy writing and I think that the most influential person in my beginning of this blog would be my boy Slim. On Monday, March 23, 2009 at 4:39:56 AM, Slim said (typed) to me, and I quote, "You should start a Blogspot. People might read it." That type of confidence in not only myself, but also my potential fan base speaks paragraphs to the type of friendship we have. So, as any good friend would do, I ignored his suggestion with a passion usually reserved for consuming flapjacks on a Sunday morning, until this very fateful morning! Be proud, dear readers, for you are witnessing history. Not exciting history, like the fall of the Berlin Wall or the breathtaking history of Canada, but history nevertheless. And seriously, eat it up while it's here; this may not last for long, especially if my circumstances pick up.

But today, at roughly 11 AM, while doing my laundry (that's right, I do my own laundry; go ahead and pencil that information into the "pros" column, ladies) a thought arose in my cabeza! I thought to myself, I have nothing of consequence going on right now, why don't I "join the herd" as it were and start a blog. How delightfully original! Hence, a new blog was born, similar to but altogether quite different from The Six Million Dollar Man.

A disclaimer, as we come to the close of this first Herculean post: you have probably noticed the lack of emoticons and the "clever" use of single letters to represent a whole world. In case you were worried, but were simply too engrossed in the writing to check whether that was true or not (you probably made a note to yourself, with directions stating that you should go back over the blog after the reading to make sure these word-tricks weren't there), allow me to save you the time: I did not use those things. I refuse to contribute to the dumbing-down of America (let's be honest, nobody outside America reads this blog; I question whether anyone inside America will read it. . . .) and youth in general. So, if you are willing to follow this blog, I will let you know this: from time to time you will be forced to think or contemplate. I do not promise that I will regularly coerce your mind into mental calisthenics or make you think, but I do hope that you enjoy this blog for more reasons than the occasional reference to a monkey.

I realize I have probably broken the rules for a blog, stipulating that they should be short, but I'm a bit of a renegade, and being such I break rules once in a while. I am, however, trying to keep it to a small scale. I've had bad experiences breaking bigger rules.

Thanks. I can't promise that all my blogs will be so cheery and uplifting. Let's go on a journey together with words.

Ben

(Following the popular trend with blogs, I offer for the enjoyment of the reader a thought-provoking, accurate quote from a famous individual.)

"Excuse me."

-Benjamin Franklin, overweight, bespectacled kite enthusiast.