Thursday, February 18, 2010

Observations Pt. 3

I know, I know...I'm late. Not in that good "Hey, I'm knocked up!" way, but in the "sorry, I had to stop and steal candy from orphans" way. Funny thing, when you're not at work, nobody does it for you. God damn Cheerio fuckers. Anyhow, I'll have an epilogue up some time with some murderous wisdom to share about "The American Experience". Until then, suck on these:

Dill pickle chips:

Do Americans not have these at all? Is there some sort of law against pleasure in America (don't answer that, I know) How can you people possibly survive without these, tasty, savoury, salty, pickley slices of deep fried love? It baffles the mind! Look, I'm a potatoe chip connesiur, so I am completely confident when I say that bbq, salt n' vinegar, regular, jalapeno, sour cream n' onion all suck a diarrhetic ass in comparison. I honestly pity you poor, chipless Americans.

Yellow Lights:

It's a universally accepted rule that a yellow light means speed up, because the light will turn red soon. I have no issue with that. I compensate for it. But in America, it would appear that a yellow light means "Hey! The light is going to turn red. You only have another thirty seconds to go through the intersection. Yeah, it's illegal and your fucking up the people who actually have the right-of-way but, you know what, fuck them. You're special." It would appear that there are a lot of special people in America.

Airport Security:

Hey, Lady, there are three hundred people in line! Would you mind helping your kid pack his backpack, tie his shoes, put away his toys and put his things through the scanner? Not that I'm in a hurry, but I do have a whole fuckload of stuff that has to go through that electronic raping and I'd rather not  hold everybody else up. Yes, our shoes are tight (we had the same sneakers).

To the US security people: you were excellent. You didn't feel me up once. However, requiring me to remove the padding from the car seat, maybe a little much.

American Beef:

 I'm going to give Armourica a pass on this one. I bought the best steaksI could find in the supermarket which is something I generally don't do. But even when I buy supermarket beef, I can perform magic. It wasn't tough, but the taste was...there? Was this the vaunted American beef that I've heard so much about? Was this "grain fed"? Was this going to make me swear of bovineian deliciousness for the rest of my days? No. Of course not. I realize that you people have suffered since you restricted out beefy imports. It's not your fault, blame the gubment. Really, people, You shouldn't be able to see the ribs on a cow. Ever.

American Cigarettes:

Yes, I smoke. Deal with that shit. I'll quit when I fucking feel like it. I'll tell you though, I'd quit a hell of a lot sooner if I lived in America. American cigarettes are fucking disgusting. "But D" you're saying, "all cigarettes are gross." Not like this. American cigarettes act like they want to be cigars but really just don't want to put in the effort. I'm really wondering if the camel shit and boot leather rumours are true? I brought five packs of Canadian cigs with me to moderate the blurgh, but I knew that I would have to give in eventually. But I honestly have to wonder how these lawsuits against the tobacco companies were successful because the fucking dirty pimps pretty much tell you you're going to die with the taste.


Let me just say that, after having three kids, my wife's modesty has pretty much been tossed out the window. It takes me both hands, both feet and an abacus to count up just how many people have seen my wife's slippery valley. For real, ask Trouble and Tracer, if baby's hungry; she'll whip that shit out in front of total strangers. However, you won't see a thing. She's a tiity ninja! You'll all be sitting there talking and suddenly there will be a booby on the boob. I can't help but think that this could be a marketable skill.

So, the day we fly out of FLA, the rest of the family decides to hit the IHOP (I voted for The Waffle House). We're seated in a booth by a bubbly used-up thirty year old woman but the booth is too small for the car seat. This causes some serious issue as the poor lass can't figure out what to do. I tell her it's no big deal and put the car seat in an adjacent booth (it wasn't busy) which only leads to more confusion. I spend the next five minutes convincing our lovely waitress that it will all be okay. We proceed to peruse the menu while listening to the delighful banter between the kitchen and the serving staff when the baby gets hungry. True to form, my lovely wife slaps a titty in her face. Note: This also works on men. Our waitress comes along to take our orders and as my father starts to speak she says: "Sorry, wait a minute." looking at my wife she continues, "I just want to say, that I think that is the most beautiful and natural thing ever. I'm glad that you're comfortable enough to do that in a restaurant and I just think that's beautiful."... Cue silence.

We're all a little bit speachless and my wife responds with the appropriate awkward courtesy. The waitress continued to fire questions at The Mrs. and The Mrs. continued to respond in an affable manner.  We weren't upset or mad because the waitress was totally sincere about it. She honestly thought that this was the greatest thing ever! She was cordial, friendly and we enjoyed her quite a bit. But, can I have my pancakes now?

StabbyMart: Tossing Titty To Troublesome Toddlers.


  1. My sister breastfeeds...she has no qualms of doing this either. Whipping it out in public. I...on the other hand...can't fucking stand it. The last thing I want to do is catch a glimpse of sister titty.

    Other women...fine.


  2. You have no idea what a topic of controversy this is here. There campaigns in support and campaigns against women breast feeding in public. Celebrities opined, comedians joked and journalists actually wrote lengthy things about it. So your waitress was being totally earnest. She sincerely wanted you to know that she supported your wife's brave choice.

  3. 1. RE: American Cigs. Yes, they do suck. Silk Cuts from England are the best. I love them so. I'd still smoke if I could get them here. Well, that and the nagging, random chest pains. It's really not cool when you are 23 and have chest pains. A 2 pack a day habit isn't cheap either. Italian Camels are also ridiculously good and don't make you feel like a lung will collapse.

    2. Potato Chips - Paprika chips are the greatest things on Earth. Sadly, I have never been able to get them in the US. I miss Europe sometimes.

    3. Yellow Lights - You were in Florida. That state is mostly composed of old retired New Yorker and overly tanned and processed people. That's all I will say about that.

    4. If you want good beef, go to an experienced butcher shop. Never go to the supermarket.

  4. It's funny how naive I am sometimes at the gaping differences between us Canuks and our neighbors to the South.

    I, like your wife wouldn't concern myself monumentally with breastfeeding either of my girls (when they were breastfeeding, of course) in public. I was a stealthy boobie-jockey too ... t'was rare for anyone to catch any real view. I really do not understand what the big deal is. We are innundated with near full frontal nudity on shows that our CHILDREN have access to (not mine, but some) WTF? PRIORITIES, PEOPLE.

    Thank you once again for providing your brand of edjumication, oh Pajiban King of Canada. I think I'll vacation in Europe from here out.

  5. I haven't hung out in the States very much, and now they won't let me in until I get a passport, their loss, really. Would like to take the boy to Disney some day though.

    Oh, and make sure to come by this summer, we'll bbq some AAA Albertan beef. Trust me on this one.

  6. I concur American smokes suck nut,I am usually good for one and one only.
    I too cannot fathom what the big deal is about breast feeding.