Ugly Americans II: Bob Marley As Elvis

Bob Marley is Elvis in Jamaica. Maybe even Jesus. He’s certainly omnipresent. And the good people of Jamaica have embraced the western way of remembering their fallen heroes and icons: with cheap, tacky souvenirs.

There is a Bob Marley drink, Bob Marley hats, t-shirts, stickers, magnets, pipes, rolling papers, shoes, ashtrays (Kids! Kids! Stick a lit cigarette in Bob Marley’s eyes!), pins, do-rags, playing cards, towels (dry your loins with Bob Marley’s face today!), figurines, spoons, wristbands…

Well. It’s forgivable. At least, more forgivable than the constant references to Cool Runnings.

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Ugly Americans I: It’s Not Always The Journey

First of all, our fight from Chicago to Montego Bay was piloted by Captain Malcom Reynolds. Of course, it had a French pronunciation, but still; Malcom friggin’ Reynolds! (If you’ve not seen Firefly or Serenity, this will mean nothing to you.) I took it as a good omen. Despite this, it was a cramped, three-and-a-half hour flight, and we shared it with a score of loud, obnoxious, teenage missionaries. All this started at four o’clock in the morning. The missionaries I took as a bad omen.

Clad in red t-shirts with “Ambassador” screen-printed on the … There’s more of this shit. Click here.

It Was I, Not The Owl…

We eventually got an indoor dog. Noelle had initially wanted a giant, ass-kicking superdog, but realized that our situation and living environment wouldn’t support such a choice.

So, we got a little anklebiter – not that he’d ever bite – of a Bischon Frise, and appropriately named him Spike, short for William The Bloody. Take a bow, Buffy fans.

Crating Spike proved less than effective, which didn’t much bother us, since it’s a hit-and-miss technique, and we (Spike included) were happier with him roaming freer than that.

Anyway, all … There’s more of this shit. Click here.

Irie

So far, so good.

It’s interesting, since the above phrase carries with it an intimation that something is about to go wrong. So far, so good seems to be the cynic’s only nod to good news.

In this case, not so much.
We chose one of those all-inclusive resorts, taking even thinking out of the picture, which normally I loathe, but again, in this case, not so much.
We have to give our brains a rest some time.

I’ll go on and on with a pedantic, banal, detailed description … There’s more of this shit. Click here.