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Tourists Suck

Tourists Suck

My wife and I recently took a week’s vacation at an all-inclusive resort in Cuba.

One of the big draws of Cuba is that there are no noisy Americans there.

Now before any of my American friends freak out, let me explain.

A few years ago, we went to a resort in the Dominican. While we were there, we noticed that you could tell where people were from by how loud and obnoxious they were. The quiet ones were from Canada. This was something that one of the staff told me.

In hindsight, I realize the loud ones were just Republicans.

Right.

Back to the Cuban trip.

One of the travel agents told us that the benefit to going was that there were no Americans. This wasn’t really a deciding factor (price and timing were), so it was just something to laugh at.

News flash, folks.

People from all over the world can be jackasses.

Let us examine some people*

[We are on a shuttle bus that will be taking us from the airport to the resort. Close to the bus is a beer stand. A Canadian male (we will call him John) steps onto bus. He is obviously not an athletic person. He spots his wife (we will call her Martha)…]
John: [Shouting] Hey Martha! Where the hell is Bernie?
Martha: He’s not on the bus.
J: I know. This is why I asked you.
M: He’s still in the airport talking to someone.
J: Well, he should be on the bus. It’s going to leave without him.
M: He’ll be here. The bus won’t leave.
J: Somoene should go get him. [Obviously posturing so that he is not the one who will do the task]
M: [Sighs] Do you just want me to go get you a beer? Is that it?
J: [Affirmative silence]
M: [Sighs again, and turns to her companions] Anyone else want a beer?
[Everyone shakes their head. She walks off the bus, but not after shaking her head at her husband. When she is out of earshot, he looks up and smirks…]
J: [Making no move to be quiet] Stupid.


Nice, eh? Nothing like demonstrating your love for your singificant other by telling complete strangers how you really feel.

It turns out that on our last day, as we were getting ready to leave, this moron struck again. A kid (probably no more than 10) was standing on the edge of one of the little fish ponds at the front of the resort. He was obviously watching the fish. This guy (John) snuck up behind the kid, and scared the crap out of him by pretending to push the poor youngster into the pond.

The kid scooted off to his parents.

I’d like to point out…

  • This kid did not belong to John
  • John didn’t even know the kid
  • John, in the ultimate sign of maturity**, starts boasting to his friends as to what he just did.


Wow.

Here’s another situation.

There were several a la carte restaurants. They were pretty good. Nice and quiet. Definitely not as busy as the buffets. On our last night we went for dinner at one of the more romantic places. There was a pianist playing nice tunes, and the restaurant was definitely geared to those wishing to have a nice quiet time.

Until the kids from hell show up.

They run all around the stage, making a boatload of noise, interfering with the poor pianist. Their parents did nothing.

These families were Canadian.

True North strong and loud?

Perhaps.

Other than some little snots from England, the majority of the stupidity was performed by our fellow countrymen, which only goes to show that people all over the world can be idiots.

So, I have an interesting question to ask you all: What aspect of your culture or country are you not proud of?




* – Please note, all names are ficticious. If they happen to be the actual names of the people I referenced, I apologize. I am merely making up names for convenience. However, if I guessed correctly, those people deserve it for being morons.
** – The opposite, actually.

With Not So Goodest Mostest Less Conversation

A few short rants, as it has been a while…


Boombox With Not So Much Boom

I was on the bus the other day when I saw this kid. He was probably thirteen or fourteen years old.

He was wearing a winter coat with a mesh pocket on the outside. In this pocket was some sort of
speaker device, whether it was an MP3 player with the speaker attached, or just the speaker itself, I don’t know.

The fact of the matter is that he was playing music out loud for everyone to hear.

It was horrible.

It’s bad enough that people destroy their hearing by listening to music with their headphones so loud that you can hear them on the other end of the subway, but this was just ridiculous.

As we got off the bus, I made a comment. He was trying to avoid looking at anyone, so I don’t know if he heard me…



JORGE: I don’t know what’s worse. The fact that you’re playing music out loud through a speaker, or the fact that it is the crappiest music on Earth. I mean, a dance remix of Roxette’s “Listen to Your Heart”? Leave the damn song alone!



Mostest Goodest English

I was listening to the radio this morning when I heard a grown man use the word samwich in a fast-food commercial. Wow. This guy must have gone to the George W. Bush Noo-Cue-Lar School of Foilage.

Honestly, if you are not from another country, you really have no excuse for not pronouncing English words incorrectly on the radio. It’s just wrong.

Certainly it is impossible to know how to pronounce every word properly, but when people who have been living here for less than three years can speak better than someone who has lived her for far longer…

Well…

Do I really need to go on?



A Little Less Conversation, Please

I was on the subway today in front of two guys chatting about stuff.

First of all, one of they guys was talking exceptionally loud. I mean, some people have loud voices, but this guy was practically yelling, like he wanted the entire subway car to hear the conversation.

Secondly, the conversation sounded like two parrots…


Guy 1: [Loudly.] So where are you living now?
Guy 2: Oh, I’m living at Location X.
G1: That place is cool, eh? Isn’t it?
G2: Yeah. Cool.
G1: Nice. There’s a huge park there right? It’s huge!
G2: Yeah. Yeah it’s huge.
G1: Must be a pain in the ass to drive around there. Isn’t it a pain in the ass?
G2: Totally. Pain in the ass. That’s why I take the subway.
G1: Ah yeah. It’s probably all traffic-jammed because of that friggin’ park.
G2: Yeah. That park jams it all up.
G1: Maybe they should build some major roads through the part. That would totally solve the problem.
G2: Yeah. Totally.


After about five minutes of this, I wanted to feed Guy 2 some crackers.

Am I being too judgemental?

I mean, when I have conversations with people, I’m not spouting Shakespearean dialogue by any stretch of the imagination. However, I tend to have conversations that are at least somewhat intelligent and not louder than jet engine noise.

My ears are still ringing.

Voodoo Television Power

Anyone Know a Good Voodoo Priest?

I usually take the bus in the morning to get to the subway station. The station is only a ten minute walk from my house, but when trying to get into work on time, every minute is precious.

Also, it is usually less of a sweat-inducing ordeal to just catch the bus and ride it down to the station, shaving five minutes and about a litre of sweat off the journey.

This morning I was about a block away from the bus stop.

I saw the people begin to line up, and I knew the bus was coming, so I broke into a sprint.

I made it just as he was closing the door. There was plenty of room on the bus, and he could have waited a few seconds to let me in.

Instead he decided to close the door and drive away.

The worst part of it all was that he was staring at me the whole time.

Prick.



If Television Were In My Power…

A long overdue Dave & Jorge exchange.

There is a television show called CSI (Crime Scene Investigation). The show is awesome. It always starts out with the initial crime scene. One of the CSIs will show up (usually Grissom) and have an exchange with Detective Brass. Inevitably, a bad pun makes itself known followed by the theme song.

For some reason, Dave and I were on a kick one day. We started writing new intros to the series, replacing Grissom with Dave.

I don’t even remember how this particular exchange started, but it ended up becoming damned funny. Well, damned funny to us, anyway.

If you are having trouble with the ending of each little segment, Dave and I were trying to type out the music to the CSI theme*


Intro 1
[Dave arrives on the scene. Detective Brass is standing over the body of a bloody corpse.]
Brass: Wow, what a way to go…
Dave: What happened?
Brass: Someone shot this priest in the head.
Dave: I guess we should get to work on his holiness..
Music: WAH-WAH-WON-WON…DUH! DUH-NUH!


Intro 2
[Dave meets Brass in a dark alley where the body of a hooker was found.]
Dave: What happened here?
Brass: We found this prostitute murdered. No one could hear her scream because her tongue was cut out.
Dave: [Looking sombre] That’s horrible. I guess it’s time to work the scene.
Brass: If only the dead could talk.
Dave: We’d find that the answer was on the tip of her tongue
Music: WAH-WAH-WON-WON…DUH! DUH-NUH!


Intro 3
[Brass is waiting for Dave in the kitchen of a home in a rich neighbourhood.]
Brass: You’re not going to believe this one.
Dave: What?
Brass: The wife took her husband’s face, forced it into the grinder over there, and served it to all the neighbours as meat pie. Now all the neighbours are dead–we found half of them on their toilets.
Dave: Dysentery?
Brass: Looks like.
Dave: Wow. The face that launched a thousand shits.
Music: WAH-WAH-WON-WON…DUH! DUH-NUH!


Intro 4
[Brass is carefully checking over the scene in a clinic.]
Dave: [Looking Tired] What happened here?
Brass: Well, this case involves a lady who went to a plastic surgeon for a breast enlargement.
Dave: So?
Brass: He said he could enlarge her breasts immensely. When she didn’t get the results she wanted, she stabbed him in the eye, and he died.
Dave: That’s what you get when you try to make mountains out of molehills…
Music: WAH-WAH-WON-WON…DUH! DUH-NUH!


We totally could be up for an Emmy.





* – “Who Are You?” by The Who

Appreciation Thanks Photographia. Canadianisms and the Hug Syndrome

Canadian Appreciation Week – A Quick Thank You

I’ve been horrible. I never referenced the people that started this whole activity.

A big round of applause should go out to Bluemichy and Canadianprariegirl for their warm idea of paying homage to our country.

While I haven’t done everything exactly according to plan, I do admire people that implement good ideas (more on this later).



Photographia Canadiana

In the spirit of being a day behind, I exascerbate the loathing felt towards my horrible punctuality by not even posting any photos here.

Again, I do have a website of photographs, and most of them are taken in Canada.

While everywhere in the world has beauty, I love the feeling I get when I take a photo of a maple leaf. I’m a big softie that way.

So, let’s play a game. Go visit my photography page, go to the galleries, and see if you can tell me where all the photographs of landscapes were taken.

I mean, it should be pretty easy.

You can write your guesses in the comments section like so: Gallery 1, 2nd photo from the top, Toronto, Ontario

Bonus points if you can be even more specific than that.



Canadianisms

Here in Canada, we have so many attributes that others from all over the world point out…

  • Patience
  • Friendliness
  • Willingness to Help
  • High Tolerance to Alcohol
  • Military Micropower
  • Not American


This list is small, and only a few of those items are true.

Rather than go into the typical writ of Canadianisms, I will list the various types of people you will find in Canada that call themselves Canadian (special thanks to Dave for help with this list)…

The CanuckleheadThis is the typical, beer-swilling, laid-back person you all know and love. Always in a toque and jeans, this loveable soul finishes all sentences with the typical ‘eh’. You’ll usually find this person on a patio somewhere, drinking Keiths and talking about Hockey or politics. Oh wait, those are the same thing…

The HomesickerThese are people that immigrated to Canada for a better life, and yet do nothing but talk about how awesome their home country was in comparison. Frankly, I don’t understand why these people are here when they are obviously so in love with their previous home. Pride is one thing, but dissing your current locale is not cool.

Alienated EasternerPerhaps French. Perhaps not. Well, nix the ‘perhaps not’. Separatism is always a threat we Canadians face. Québec leaving would really suck. I don’t know how some people there can feel unappreciated when so many from other provinces flock to Québec to get away from it all. I, personally, have never come into contact with any disgruntled Québecois. I just hear about them on the news and from friends who like to make up stories.

Self-Important WestAgain, I don’t think I’ve ever come across anyone from the West who wasn’t friendly and patriotic about the whole country. I wonder if the media makes up stories about how the West takes its financial success too seriously. Seriously enough to want to be their own country. How would they defend themselves? The HMS Haida is in Hamilton! Isn’t that our only defence?

AIAThe Americans In Awe. I have met people from this group. They are folks from South of the border who move up here for a better life and find it. Mind you, these people moved up when one american dollar could buy a thousands-square-foot house in the rich neighbourhoods in any major Canadian city. It’s nice to see people that appreciate the country though. Refreshing.

The ChineseProbably the largest visible ethnic group [Thank you, Captain Obvious – Dave]. I honestly believe that Canada should be called Chinada. Take a cross section of my friends, for instance, and you’ll find that half of them are Chinese. I hear a lot of people complaining about Hong Kong money and rich kid syndrome and such. However, these ‘rich folks’ were unfairly put to work ages ago building railroads and suffering. Now a lot of them are highly successful because of hard work, either from where they came from or right here (or both!). All of my Chinese friends appreciate living here. Folks from India run a close second in sheer volume and friendliness. Europe is third.

Rick Mercer – ‘Nuff said.

Overly Sensitive People People that take offence to things in this entry that aren’t meant to offend anyone. Read carefully!


That’s my list. There are many other ethnic groups and such, but this isn’t meant to be a serious entry (except for perhaps the parts that speak of my appreciation for certain things).



A Final Word About the Hug Syndrome

I’ve been noticing people posting long comments usually made up primarily of the word hug.

This is just plain annoying. I referred earlier to good ideas. This hug thing is a bad idea.

I understand the intentions are good, and that people are trying to spread love.

But honestly, I think most people would appreciate that the comments would have something to do with the article they worked hard to write.

I don’t mind the word hug. I’m just saying that maybe there can be some substance to a comment, rather than a simple cut-and-paste message.

Honestly, though, someone’s gotta say something.


People begin to glower at Jorge, thinking him the Grinch of Spaces….

Trendy Fragile

Trendy?

Mary had a little lamb,
Little lamb, little lamb,
Mary had a little lamb,
Its fleece was white as snow.

And everywhere that Mary went,
Mary went, Mary went,
Everywhere that Mary went
The lamb was sure to go.

It followed her to school one day
School one day, school one day
It followed her to school one day
Which was against the rules.

It made the children laugh and play,
Laugh and play, laugh and play,
It made the children laugh and play
To see a lamb at school.

– Mary Had a Little Lamb (Copyright Unknown)


Lately I’ve been seeing a lot people posting song lyrics without any context or explanation. I don’t really know why.

So, in the true spirit of Christmas I thought I would try to be even deeper than them by going back to basics.

You know, kickin’ it old skool

Mind you, I’ve just left an explanation…



Do Not Mark Fragile

The things you learn talking to random people in line.

Turns out that when using any delivery service, marking a package fragile might not be a good idea.

The state of humanity makes me sick. Who would have thought that indicating a package containes something fragile is likely interpreted as please throw this around.

That sucks.