9 - Proud to be an American

What is an American? An American is a mixture. Let me explain using the universal language, FOOD. Take a bunch of meals from their various containers. Ship them across the globe and throw them into one common bowl. Stir it. Mix it. Bake it. Mark it with a B. Pull it out of the oven and what do you have? Glop. THAT’s what an American is. Glop.

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Blog: Am I an American? Because if I am I feel insulted by your rudeness.

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If your family’s been here for more than one generation, you’re a mixture. I’m Portuguese, Norwegian, Swedish, German, English, etc, etc, etc. How do I pick which country to be loyal to? AMERICA. Because it’s where I choose to live and the country I pick for citizenship.

Here’s my problem. I’m sick and tired of people who are American citizens trying to pretend they’re not American. Rather than come out and say it, I figured I’d soften the blow a little by using Germany as an example.

Can I live in Germany and be an American? YES. If I ever get confused, I just look at my passport. Oh, yeah. I’m an American. If I apply for German citizenship and for some unknown reason they accept me, I become a German. Should I learn to speak German? YES. HELLO! I’m a freaking German. I should know my own language. Or should I get all my American buddies to move to Germany with me, get citizenship, and go around converting everything to English? Then we could be American-Germans. We’d have American Awareness Month and the Germans would be pissed because in our neighborhood all the billboards would be in English. Does it sound ridiculous? Yes, it does. You would probably wonder why, if I love America so much, I live in Germany.

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Blog: Ouch. Careful, buddy. You're coming across as kind of racist.

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I hope you don’t misunderstand me. I’m not racist. I have a color TV. But seriously, yes your ancestors had a sucky time. So did mine. So did everyone else’s. Some were slaves, some were Jews, some wanted religious freedom. Even Abel was persecuted to death by Cain. Life sucks. Move on.

You’re a person. You have value. I love you the way you are. I don’t care what color you are or where your ancestors were from. Unless you’re a jerk. Then we can’t be friends. But what I was trying to get at is we’re all essentially the same. Our personalities are probably more different than our genetic make-up.

The good (and the bad) thing is that in America, you make your bed. You lie in it. Don’t give me all that crap about how you don’t have any money, or you were born on the purple side of the tracks, or your Mommy loves Pringles more than she loves you. Lesser people than you have accomplished much greater things. You have just as much opportunity as the next person. Quit looking for a handout and step up to the plate. All they did different was work for it. I’m not an idiot. I realize that some people have to work harder than others. But everyone has the same opportunity. That’s what being an American is all about.

The upside is that you don’t HAVE to live here. It’s a free country. You’re free to leave at any time. But if you’re going to live here and be a freaking citizen, lose the damn identity crises. You’re an American. Deal with it. Wear it with pride. Or go somewhere else and be an Asian-European, or an Ethiopian-Australian, or a General-Tso’s-Macaroni.

Somebody should fix that.

8 - The "Fast" Lane

Dear Mr. Driving-Slow-in-the-Fast-Lane Driver. This is a special note just for you. Yes, you. You know who you are. Or maybe you don't. You will in a minute.

Did you go to Driver's Ed.? No you didn’t, Liar. Because what the hell are you doing in the fast lane? I'm hauling logs, jamming right up into your tail, and you're oblivious.

Blog: Maybe they can’t see you because their eyes are on the road.

Take a look ahead of you. Now, glance up and to the right a little. See that rectangular thing with the black frame and shiny surface? That's called a rear-view mirror. Use it! What the hell! I'm flashing my brights at you. Not because I'm better than you. Not because I want to pick a fight. Not because you have a flat tire. It's because your slow ass is hindering my progress and I want you to SHOVE OFF. There are two perfectly good, empty and relaxing lanes to your right. Use THEM!

Blog: Maybe they WANT to be late to the fire.




I don't mind that you want to go 47 mph. Please! By all means, go 47 mph to your hearts content. But do it in the freaking Slow Lane. See? It has a name for you and everything. You're enjoying the journey. You don't care when you get there. Go ahead. Stop and smell the roses. But do it on your own dang time and somewhere far, far away from MY fast lane.

Blog: Maybe you should stop speeding.

I don't need to go 90 mph. I just want to put my shoes on, my blues on and get my cruise on. Every time I have to tap the brake to disengage my cruise control brings me one step closer to the edge, and I'm about to break. Please save me, and yourself, from an ugly confrontation. MOVE OVER. SIT. STAY. Enjoy your slower pace and live life to it's fullest - over THERE. To the far RIGHT. And get the hell out of my way.

Somebody should fix that.

7 - Chew

I understand smoking. It looks cool, chicks dig it and it's a social activity. Smoking provides a clear indication of manhood. Unless you’re a girl, then it’s disgusting. But chewing tobacco? That's just stupid. What's the draw? How do you even get started with that? “Pssst. Hey Buddy. Tuck some of this cow poop in your lip. Everybody’s doin’ it.” Um. No thank you.

If you smoke, there’s a good chance you’re going to end up with some kind of cancer, lung disease or breathing disorder. With chew, you don’t have to guess. There won’t be any sleepless nights worrying, or anxiety about what disease you’ll get. Just throw some dip at the body part you hate and chances are you’ll grow some cancer there.

I’ve noticed that most people who chew prefer the lower lip. Tuck a nice wad of snuff in there, let it brew for a few years and PRESTO! You don’t have to worry about brushing those pesky old teeth anymore. Now you have an attractive chasm where your munchers used to be.

Blog: Since when do you get to judge what is or isn’t attractive? I’ve seen your hair.

That was a rude interruption. I was totally on a roll. Maybe Blog could relax and keep its thoughts to itself. Sorry about that. So, here’s my problem with sucking the moist smokeless: It’s an instant IQ degenerator. Okay. I can tell by the look on your face that you don’t believe me.

Try this: Imagine you’re on the operating table and your brain surgeon is removing that part of your brain which thinks chewing tobacco is cool, sexy and all around bitchin’. Now, take a closer look at the brain surgeon. Does he smell like menthol? Is his lower lip pooched out? Is he drooling on your cranium? Does his expression say, “Duh . . .” Exactly. Now, imagine you’re ice fishing. There’s a guy about 10 feet away from you using a chain-saw to cut a hole in the ice. He’s standing in the middle of the hole he’s cutting. His name is Billy Bob Jethro Tull Meatloaf IX. Now, take a closer look at BBJTM IX’s face. Thank you. I rest my case.

So, I’ve come up with a list of Pros and Cons to help sway you to my point of view.

Blog: Does anybody freaking care about this topic? Do they even make tobacco products anymore? I thought they were illegal.

Dang it, Blog! Can you shut your face for 2 seconds! Sheesh.

Pros

• The mark on your back pocket from the Skoal tin looks cool.
• You can pick where you'd like your cancer.

Cons

• You look like a dufus.
• You have to pick where you'd like your cancer.
• There is a never-ending supply of chunks in your teeth.
• Drooling.
• Slurping between sentences.
• Where to squirt the sauce?
• Who wants to kiss a wet hay bale?
• Your IQ is cut in half (if you're lucky).
• Do I need to continue?
• I don’t think so because if you're not convinced by now, you're a dufus and your mom wears combat boots.

The ultimate goal for a guy is to be cool enough for chicks to dig him. I haven’t met a single girl who thinks that a guy chewing tobacco looks sexy. (Some married ones do, but no singles.)

I propose arming tobacco pushers with M&M’s instead. Not only because I have stock in the Mars company, but also because chicks love chocolate. I know you can’t picture how this would work, so here is a recipe for Instant Stud:

1. Toss a hand full of M&M’s (peanut look coolest) into your mouthal cavity.
2. Let them brew up a good sauce right there in that special place nestled between your lower lip and your teeth.
3. Slowly, delicately suck the juice out.
4. Eat the peanuts.
5. Swig some Pepsi.
6. Rinse and repeat.
   

See? I knew you’d like it. There’s no spitting, no cancer (as far as we know), and you’ll always smell good. But you’ll still look like a dufus.

Somebody should fix that.

Blog: You’re not the boss of me.

Yes I am.