Italians are bizarre

Or maybe it’s just that they’re smart businesspeople who recognize that it’s the rest of the world is bizarre and why not make a buck off it?

Nothing says classy like some dick underwear, like this pair being sold in Rome.

Nothing says classy like some dick underwear, such as this pair being sold in Rome.

Regardless, I developed a total fascination with these gross boxer shorts being sold all over Italy (or at least the places I went).

I’m honestly not sure about the intent here.

  • Is it to provide advance warning in order to minimize the shock and disappointment? (As in, “Oh. Okay. Yeah. I suppose I should have gotten the hint…”)
  • Or is it to make a good first impression and impart a happy rush of relief? (As in, “Oh thank God! You had me worried for a second there!”)
For the sophisticate, they also come in black and white.

For the sophisticate, they also come in black and white.

  • Or is it simply a way of communicating, “I’m a big art lover, just like you.”

The world may never know.

Got my groove back

Thanks, Maxxy! You’re right. I’ve decided I’m going to start posting descriptions…and photos of the douche bags I meet on the way.

The challenge here will be the photos – they may show up every few days instead of daily due to continual internet access challenges. However, I promise to take them faithfully.

In that spirit, our first douchebag is Amen, an Armenian fellow who accosted me on the streets of Barcelona. As I was wandering down a cool little street in the Gothic part of Barcelona, I stopped to take a photo. In my first photo of the street, he appears in the corner, calling out to me. Gratefully he’s not in the second picture…BECAUSE HE WAS TWO INCHES AWAY, FIXING TO JUMP ON ME LIKE A SPIDER MONKEY.

Seriously, I put the camera down and he grabbed me and gave me the two cheeked kiss. As he was explaining that “That’s how we greet each other in Spain!” all I could think to say was, “But I don’t even KNOW you!?!?”

He followed me several blocks talking a blue streak, until I finally hard to turn mean and send him packing…

(Photos to follow as soon as I’m able!!!)

Regret confirmed

I know when I’m licked. I so don’t know what to do with this blog.

So, I guess I’ll just do what it says, and post random thoughts when they come to me. Which is quite often, actually.

Today’s is: Why does no one on “the continent” in Europe wear deodorant? I know they sell it. I see it in the stores. Is there some kind of confusion about where to apply it? (Armpits, people! Armpits!!!)
Do they possess some kind of super bacteria that is too strong for it? If that is the case, then scientists of the world, I implore you…please get to work on this issue. Just tell me where to make my donation…

In other random thoughts, what the hell are these things I found in a Portuguese grocery store? Thanks!

What bird laid these? And what do you do with them?

What bird laid these? And what do you do with them?

file under ‘easily amused’

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I’m totally fascinated by the sign language people in the bottom right corner of the BBC programming. Is all sign language this way? I cant recall anyone doing sign language ever looking so animated. It’s WAY more interesting that the weird stuff they air (reality TV following the wives of vicars, a lady who had a child through sperm donation on some kind of high horse that children don’t need fathers [roll the enraged 'traditional family structure' speeches], the homely 50ish twin sisters who ‘cannot be separated – even at bed time.’ Ew.)

Pig in a Poke

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Dear England,

Although we share a common language, there is a culinary divide. To be frank, I stand in awe at the array of pig-based products featured on your room service menu, and I am grateful that I’m not Islamic or Jewish or any religion or culture that regards the swine as unclean. However, i must admit I am baffled by the cornucopia you offer.

  • What, pray tell, is the difference between back bacon and streaky bacon?
  • Or Cumberland sausages, breakfast sausages, and pork sausages?

Should i just order one of each? If so, could you spot me a twenty pound note? I’m good for it. Probably.

Free business idea

If you have a small fortune, but lack good ideas about how to spend it, you could bankroll me. I’d be a very grateful recipient and make you proud, or at least mention you kindly once in a while. Otherwise, you might want to consider moving to Iceland and opening a microbrewery?

I assume it has something do with taxes or shipping or communism, but for some reason the booze here is PHENOMENALLY expensive. Like $15 USD a pint or some such insanity. And people pay it. And they drink A LOT. They’re drinkers and they’ve got loot to burn.

Thus, to summarize: Come here. Undercut the market with an $11 or $12 glass of refreshment. Get some cutesy names like Blue Lagoon Lager, Arctic Ale, and Puffin Pilsner. Double your fortune. At least.

Icelandic douchebags?

Well, I’m off to Iceland tonight…and in the interest of fodder for this blog, I’ll see what I can discern. Iceland has managed some word of mouth marketing that should have the douchebags arriving in droves: the world’s most gorgeous women.

I have been told this at least five or six times – and never as the answer to a question or inquiry – so perhaps it’s true? On the other hand, for a small island nation with cajones enough to brag that they’ve got the most attractive women on earth, they may want to come up with a better spokesmodel than Bjork? No offense, she’s talented and banned in China and cute in an elfin way…but unless this is Middle Earth, that’s not exactly the look that comes to mind when I hear the word ‘supermodel.’

Bjork

Bjork

Things you never knew about vampires

“Blogging is like masturbating into a mirror while you videotape yourself so you can watch it later while masturbating.” – Lewis Black

Is this why vampires don’t blog?

Hats off to JoJo (THE JoJo!? Teenybop singing sensation and cast of yet another mermaid movie a year or two ago!? Wow.).

I would defintely say yours is a compelling argument. As we all know, there’s nothing like a scintillating video of our own desperate masturbation to REALLY heat things up in the bedroom…that we live in alone. Thank god for camera phones!

On the other hand, after 900 years of the same old thing, could it be that vampires no longer masturbate?

The first guest writer has shown!

Admittedly, he’s probably 13 and apparently has some self-esteem issues manifesting as general rage against the machine…but we’ll take it.  A young douche bag is better than no douche bag at all.

Thank you, Herownick! Nick Herow? Hero Nick? Heroin Addict?

Regardless, here’s the contribution:  “Blogs what the hell i mean come on there all like i don’t know shut up bloggers i totally hate you.”

We hate you too! Have a super day!

Fat man in a little coat

That’s the code name of my backpack. It’s bursting at the seams, just waiting to give way in some middle of nowhere country in order to triumphantly reign chaos down upon me.

This is the first sign of madness. The conviction that inanimate objects are conspiring against you. And then writing about it in a more or less worthless blog for which you are grappling for subject matter.

If there are true douche bags out there (preferably disorganized and prone to extensive episodes of random thoughts) that would like to chime in…let me know!