Personal note: I have lived in both Austria and Wisconsin. They are extremely comparable. Both locations have about 45% of their land forested. Both places have crappy weather and both populations are pretty much always drunk on beer.
The major difference is that Austria is far more densely populated in the non-forested areas, so Wisconsin has a higher ratio of trees to people. Despite that, you may be surprised to learn that Wisconsinites do not live like Keebler elves in forest cities. That would imply that Austrians do not live in forest cities either, given that they are actually more urban than we are in Wisconsin in terms of population density.
You might think that. You would be wrong.
Austrians do live in quaint forest cities, mostly inside of hollow logs, or in hastily constructed tree houses made by clumsily lashing together the rotting wood they sweep up from the floors in their forests. They spend the day getting drunk under rickety wooden bridges where they hope to capture a passing billy goat to eat for dinner. Those are just the irrefutable facts, as pictured in the photo of the Vienna skyline seen below.
“Australia is not real. It’s a hoax, made for us to believe that Britain moved over their criminals to someplace. In reality, all these criminals were loaded off the ships into the waters, drowning before they could see land ever again. It’s a coverup for one of the greatest mass murders in history, made by one of the most prominent empires… Australia is not real. It’s a codeword for the cold blooded murder of more than a hundred thousand people, and it is not okay. We will not, accept this. Stand up for the ones who died. Let it be known, that Australia does not exist.”
Scoop’s First Law of the Universe is this: No matter how stupid any idea is, there will be many people who believe it, and even take credit for it.
“She sauntered into his smoke-filled office with legs that, although they didn’t go quite all the way to heaven, definitely went high enough for him to see that she was a giraffe.”
“Handsome French policeman, Andre Poiret, grappled with the puffed-up albino hitman, who was about to shoot the beautiful high-class call girl, Gigi Lamour, who was taking a shower in her apartment, with his big gun.”
“When Sir John of York fought in the crusades, he killed many Saracens with great dispatch, and was likened unto a whirling dervish of steel and Christian might—minus the dizziness from constantly spinning in a circle, and the fact that he was on a horse that couldn’t do that.”
John Oliver has recently been engaged in attacks on Danbury. Unlike some of Oliver’s other satirical condemnations, this lambasting has no basis. His comments are seething but entirely generic. They could just as easily apply to any town anywhere, in the same spirit that I always bash Fond du Lac – although I know nothing about it and it seems indistinguishable from every other boring, medium-sized midwestern city, including the one I live in. Oliver apparently just pointed his finger at a map, and it happened to rest on Danbury.
In fact, although his Danbury invective was laced with profanity, the concrete references to Danbury have actually been complimentary, using such terms as “charming railway museum” and “historic Hearthstone Castle,” and noting that “USA Today ranked it the second-best city to live in 2015” – followed of course by “Danbury, Connecticut can eat my whole ass. If you’re from there, you have a standing invite to come get a thrashing from John Oliver, children included, fuck you.”
Now I want to go to Vermont, just to see the world’s tallest filing cabinet. Forget Tuscany and the South of France. Vermont is party central!
Dover Downs, whatever that is, may be lame, but I am kinda surprised that there are any attractions at all in Delaware, lame or not. As I recall, their “Welcome” sign says, “Hi, you have accidentally entered Delaware. Check your GPS.”
I have not been to the Field of Dreams, and I will concede that it probably sucks, but I can’t see how it could be less interesting than the Bridges of Madison County.
And while I’m on a roll, how could Times Square be a worse New York attraction than this legendary state park?
The pride of Vermont, the inspiration of America, and the site of my next vacation. I will try to talk my daughter into having a destination wedding there, assuming that Donald J. Trump State Park will not honor our reservation.
I have to say that I truly believe in the indomitable will and can-do spirit of the American people. In the spirit of John F Kennedy, I challenge us to create a taller filing cabinet by the end of the decade. We strive to do this not because it is easy, or because it is hard, but because it is silly.
He can’t stand for anyone else to get attention, particularly when they use the spotlight to diss him non-stop, so you know he will come up with one of his biggest distractions today or tomorrow or the next day, in order to move the focus back from the Democratic convention onto himself. You know it will be big and outrageous. What are your guesses?
Will he arrest a major political opponent?
Will he pardon some major criminal like Manafort?
Will he insist that the election will require a do-over if there are too many mail-in ballots?
Will he sell fracking rights to the national parks to Exxon?
Will he sack Ben Carson and replace him with Roger Stone?
Will he support Q to write the GOP platform?
Will he announce the beginning of construction on having his head added to Mt. Rushmore?
Will he announce that he’s replacing Pence on the ticket with Sheriff Joe?
Will he begin bombing Iran?
Will he announce that we will leave NATO and start a new Warsaw Pact with Putin and Belarus?
Will he announce the “mysterious” death of Michael Cohen?
Will he sell the USPS to the My Pillow guy for two cents on the dollar?
Will he announce that his next nomination to the Supreme Court will be Julian Assange?
C’mon, you know it’s coming. What will it be? Your guesses …