I suppose a "classic" American Boardwalk must include the following ingredients: At least several dozen places to get ice cream, pizza, French fries, and hot dogs, at least one arcade which includes video came consuls from the 1980s, at least a dozen places to buy trademark-violating custom-print t-shirts,* and at least at least a dozen or so tiny convenience stores selling candy, chips, soda, cigarettes and beach toys, chairs and umbrellas at ridiculous markups. It's also important that the "classic" American Boardwalk include at least several restaurants and bars featuring outdoor patio seating and a karaoke-quality steel drum band (dealing out daily doses of Margaritaville and Sweet Caroline.)
Hampton Beach has all this stuff in spades, so yeah it qualifies as a Classic American Boardwalk. And for maybe the 40th summer in a row it's where I'll be the last week of July, so no updates here until next weekend. Enjoy the archives and please, if it's not too much trouble, click on an ad from time to time!
*If it's a Presidential Election Year, the t-shirt shops are dominated by Conservative/Republican crap; since 2016, appealing heavily to the MAGA cult crowd. New Hampshire may be a (barely) blue state, but the clientele at Hampton Beach is largely redneck and predominately Stupid. Still like the beach, though.
The narrator keeps saying "checkers." Except for the checkers-like pieces, playing this game is nothing like playing checkers. It's Tic Tac Toe.
"Pretty sneaky sis" after having to have sis's win explained to him doesn't give me much hope for the future for this boy. I hope he turned out ok, but jeeeeeeeeessssh kid.....
Today this blog went past the 4 million view mark. Only took fifteen and a half years!
1. I suppose it's conceivable that way back in the halcyon days of 2007 it was still considered an ok idea for a girl to have a guy she doesn't know show up at her front door to take her on a blind date instead of meeting him in a public place with transportation to and from that public place arranged in advance, but I kind of doubt it. Maybe it helps that both the guy and the girl in this ad (and the video quality) suggests that the guy and girl are living in the 1980s, but YouTube tells me this is from 2007. Maybe it was just posted in 2007 and the commercial actually dates to the 1980s? It certainly has that vibe. In any case, this is a bad idea in the 1980s, 2000s and today. Don't do this, lady.
2. The guy immediately lays down the law- he's not spending any more than ($30 if this is set in 2007, $15 if it's set in the 1980s) on this date, and if this girl can't deal, she should just close the door on his face right now. I'm 100 percent in favor of her closing the door on his face right now, because in either fifty or 17 years unless he grows some confidence and has that chip surgically removed from his shoulder he's not going to be showing up at the doors of unfamiliar girls unless all the girls he actually knows already have restraining orders against him, and he's going to be spending most of his evenings on Alpha Male Incel forums complaining about Chad.
3. The girl is totally charmed by this guy's "I'm broke, I know you don't respect me so I'm just letting you know I'm not spending money on you so if that's not something you can deal with just let me know so I can run home and complain about You Modern Women on the Socials" speech and would love to go out for a cheeseburger, soda and movie, never mind that her date has just let her know that he has the self-esteem of a goldfish and thinks that because she has female body parts she's a gold-digging grifter Like The Rest of ThemTM. So she's even more desperate than he is? At least respond with "ok that's fine, and I'm letting you know straight out that I am NOT letting you in my pants tonight and it has nothing to do with the car you drive or the amount of money you spend on me. It's got to do with the fact that this is a first date but more, that you've already revealed yourself to be a woman-hating creep. And I'm sorry I was dumb enough to arrange for you to meet me at my address, and I'll be driving myself to McDonald's and then the movie and then home to change my phone number."
I have never in my entire life been as excited about anything as much as these people are over the prospect of being able to accrue debt at a lower interest rate. I wish I could work up this level of enthusiasm over something- anything. But then, I didn't go to an Etsy shop to order a t-shirt emblazoned with my credit score,* so I guess me and fun are never in the same room.
*the average American's credit score is 715. I have no idea what that first couple is excited about. A score in the mid-600s is nothing to fist-pump about. NONE of this is is anything to fist-pump about. Or dance about. I don't know what is going on here. But I wouldn't go outside wearing a "Credit Score 645" shirt.
Here's a clue: Taking a piece of plastic garbage, painting it green, and giving it a duckbill might make it a pretty, cute piece of garbage but it doesn't make it any more than a cute piece of garbage.
Also, there is no way to make vacuuming "fun," no matter how adorable or light the vacuum is. If you are wandering around looking for little messes to clean up you are lost and you need to break free from whatever cult brainwashing you've gone through.
Also, if you really think that anything recharged with a USB port can generate this level of suction power for more than a few minutes before it needs to be plugged in again for several hours/days, well, you have a lot to learn about the laws of thermodynamics. This is as credible as the pocket-sized aqualung thingee that was supposed to let you breathe underwater for hours or the umbrella that used air to deflect the rain or the tiny portable air conditioners that can make your backyard feel like a frozen tundra during a heat wave. Sense it does not make. Creating a "vortex" (because that sounds cool) takes a large amount of energy, which means you need a big, heavy battery or a power cord connected to an outlet. Sorry, but there is no third alternative and until Physics Itself is turned on its head, there won't be.
In short, Horsepower Duck is a really stupid, really obvious scam and I wouldn't be at all surprised if it sold a million units and made some Shark Tank Dropout really, really rich. Because come on, we are a very dumb People.
Hey look- not only does this clown commit to spending a ridiculous amount of money over a ridiculous amount of time* on a ridiculously overrated Point A to Point B-mobile, not only does he skip out on the job he'll rely on to pay for it to complete the purchase, but he does it with a huge shit-eating grin on his ridiculously punchable face.** Some, please, punch this guy's face.
When that someone gets done punching this guy's face, remind him that between 19th century-level tariffs and deep gashes in the social safety net, a lot of people are hurting right now and are struggling to pay for the absolute basics- food, housing, and medical care. A version of December to Remember ads in the middle of the summer is hardly a welcome sight. Every day Americans commit to spending too much money on BASIC, USED automobiles because for most of us, a car is a paycheck-devouring necessity and not something we buy so it will look good in our driveways and show well for our trophy girlfriends/wives.
*a base trim BMW X5 starts at $69,310- and this is being advertised as a DROP of $10,000 over last year's version. With no money down, that translates to $825 per month for SEVEN YEARS. That doesn't include interest*** and more important it doesn't include insurance, which I should not have to tell you is astronomical on cars like this. Realistically, we are talking about an investment of at least $1200 a month over eighty-four months, or a ridiculous one hundred thousand dollars- for a depreciating asset. Buddy, nobody should be buying cars like this. But the absolute LAST thing you should be doing is playing hooky on your job to do it. Dealerships are open on weekends and they aren't going to run out of Stupid, Ruinous Impulse Purchases with Wheels, moron.
**has he even finished paying the delivery fee on that trophy wife yet?
***not one American in a thousand will qualify for the advertised 2.99% interest rate, though probably a much higher number of Americans reasonably in the market for cars like this will. That 2.99% interest rate is for "Well-Qualified Buyers" who have FICO scores above 750. The average FICO score in the United States is 715, and that almost certainly translates to an interest rate much closer to 7.40% (the current average.) I've done enough research today, so YOU do the math on this one. You can't afford this car. Nobody can afford this car.
Way back in 2002, the Major League Baseball All-Star Game ended in a tie, and you'd think that the Munich Agreement and Non-Aggression Pact had been announced at the same time. The sky fell, the Professional Outrage Merchants did their thing, and for reasons that apparently didn't need to explain SOMETHING had to be done to prevent this ATROCITY from ever happening again.
At no point was it suggested by anyone in the media that the All Star Game was just an annual fun ritual that traditionally meant absolutely nothing and should not be taken as anything except a celebration of the most popular players in the game (not necessarily the best, because fans vote and fans are stupid.) No, this was SERIOUS and a CRISIS was at hand and baseball itself had been BETRAYED because a game that did not appear in the standings, featuring plays that did not appear in any official stats, ended in a tie.
The response was to ruin the All Star Game for more than a decade by giving it stakes: The winning league would have home-field advantage in the World Series. Never mind that for 90 percent of the players this meant that they were supposed to play hard for a natural rival (listen up, Pirates fans! The Dodgers and Braves need you to win this one! Hey Oakland player in the outfield- you'd better hustle! The Yankees and Red Sox are counting on you!
Well, that was a crap idea that (thankfully) ended up in the dustbin. This new one, introduced in 2022 but not noticed until a few days ago, is almost as bad; deciding a winner based on a mini home-run derby. Whatever, you might say. The game has gone back to having no meaning (as G-d intended) so who cares?
Here's the big problem: The ranting morons who comment on baseball for a living love the concept of ties being decided with Home Run Contests. I heard one yesterday say that he's "all for" adding this idea to the REGULAR SEASON, apparently because the disgustingly stupid automatic runner on second in extras isn't quite awful and insulting to the game already. We are literally one Commissioner Decision away from eliminating extra innings - with all of their drama- altogether in exchange for glorified batting practice.
I will give full disclosure here: I actually like the pitch clock and restrictions on batters leaving the box; it's sped up the game, made it more watchable and enjoyable, and opened it up to a larger audience of casual viewers who don't want to invest 4 hours. I get it and I approve. The automatic runner on second is an abomination which allows a team to win with two sacrifice flies and I'm sorry, that's stupid. But if baseball is so determined to shorten games that it's going to end ties with home run derbies maybe it's time to just close up shop now. And please, MLB yakkers, stop promoting this idea like it's the greatest ever; when you do that, you're just admitting that you were never actual fans of the game you are paid to talk about, just witless gushers love home runs and nothing else about the greatest sport ever. You disgust me, but you are welcome to be bored when the ball is not leaving the park. Let's preserve what is left of the game's integrity before it turns into hockey. PLEASE.
I could have gone my whole life without once seeing a woman have a freaking orgasm in her car over disgusting greasy fried chicken, thank you very much. I mean, if you've set up your phone to let the world know that you are even eating this stuff from the driver's seat, you are going out of your way to advertise what a pathetic, desperate-for-attention loser you are in the first place. Adding little moans of bliss while consuming oily bird parts adds nothing to my life and not only do I wish you'd stop, I really really wish you had never started. Just gross.
For about five years in a row, Hersheypark was the go-to-on-the-way-back-from-DC-place for myself and my niece. She would celebrate the end of another school year by visiting me in the Washington area and we would hit up all the museums, the zoo, take in a game at Camden Yards, and maybe catch a movie (the last one we saw was the Jurassic Park film that came out in 2018, I can't remember what it's called because they are all interchangeable now.)
Then she had kids, and the visits South came to an end. Instead I visited Pompeii, Ireland and Sicily before heading to Vermont for a summer of landscaping, swimming and wandering the beaches of New England.
Now we've decided that the children are old enough to start their own adventures in and around the Nation's Capital, so this morning we are all packing up and heading to Maryland for a week. We'll do All the Things, including catching a game in Baltimore, before returning home via Hershey a week from today. I'll enjoy Hershey Park especially, as long as it's ok that I just hold stuff while the others ride the rides; I'm not a rollercoaster person. The "Welcome to the World of Chocolate" ride at the visitor's center is wild enough for me. :>)
Please wish us safe travels and enjoy the archives while I'm gone!
Having long ago fried his last brain cell, and wasted his youth, consuming ultra-processed fat and sugar until his entire life is spent in a dull carbohydrate coma- a sort of waking nightmare, if you will- this guy is now going to wander around pondering the mystery of chicken in a taco. Past generations split the atom and harnessed the power of the sun, and there are still people out there creating actual value for society. This guy is going to stare at a pile of warm garbage in his hand and try to remember a time when he was able to solve complex problems and make plans beyond "use Uber Eats to order Taco Bell"- you know, before his cognition when all to hell, short-circuited by nutrient-free sludge delivered in a bag with a bell on it.
I just wish he wouldn't vote. Stop voting, idiot. Or if you insist on voting, start voting for candidates who want to rein in the price of healthcare. You'll benefit, believe me.
So it turns out that it wasn't hard at all to find a few people willing to admit not really caring about the particular brand of warm, bland carbohydrates they last fell asleep eating in front of the television while contemplating the wreck that had become of their lives.
Turns out that if they are told it was Dominos, well, then, sure, what the hell, it was Dominos, who cares? And when they are told "PSYCH! It wasn't Dominos! It was some other brand of life-shortening tasteless garbage with extra nutrient-free dairy product jammed into the middle of pasty white dough, but it wasn't Dominos!" the response is generally "oh really. That's not at all interesting. I really don't care. Is this a national campaign? How many times am I gonna be on TV?"
All of these people are putting in minimal energy to project surprise, and all of them are failing miserably. Because come on, if they are regular consumers of delivery stuffed-crust pizza, their energy levels are in the tank right next to their will to live. By the way, what happened to that weird fat creep who seemed to live exclusively on Pizza Hut products last football season? Did he die? He died, didn't he?
