Friday, July 25, 2014

Why Burger King Must Shoot It's Commercials in Sweden

You know those Burger King commercials with the "Make it your way," slogan, where the camera zooms in on these really young, cute, perky, and friendly girls working behind the counter?

We as a society should sue Burger King for false advertising! These ads are a complete fabrication! In the United States, the typical Burger King employee is a surly, acne laden, obese teenager, who doesn't want to be there and let's you know.
So, come one, come all, and join me in this lawsuit! 

But wait a second, some of you might rightfully point out that Burger King has me on retainer as counsel, so how could I possibly advocate suing the company? Because, like all lawyers, my only objective is to rack up legal fees.

So while I'm prepared to do battle in court (I do have a Mercedes lease to pay for), understanding the process of disclosure ...  The following evidence, will directly counter your claim.
enjoy the Whopper. They don't serve it 'that way' in America

This was taken at Central Station in Stockholm, Sweden. The girl is the same age as your typical American BK employee, but that's where the similarities end. Nope, she's also cute, helpful, and friendly.
This is where Burger King shoots their commercials. So, you can see there are areas of the world where BK holds up their end of the bargain. Sweden baby, Sweeedddeeennn.

And if you're feeling sorry for me, and the fact that I might have troubles paying my lease, don't. I'll definitely be charging Burger King for the time it took me to write this (legal defense). if any of you want to discuss this further, please feel free. That time will go on the bill too.

How Hot Are Swedish Women / are Swedes the Best Looking People on Earth?

So, a question that I get alllll the time is, "Rich, you travel sooo much! What place has the best looking women?"
"Dude," I answer, (does it come as a surprise it's always guys who asks?) "Los Angeles all the way. All these pretty girls come here to break into show business. It's like a magnet, plus with phenomenal weather people don't want to hide their bodies under tons of clothing and stay in shape. Nowhere can really compete with that set of variables."

And ... then I went to Sweden.
There's a Seinfeld episode where Kramer excitedly describes a woman he met as, "Swwwwweeeddeeeeen!! Sweden Jerry!"
Let me say I concur.

semi-typical Swedish girl

First of all, the Swedes are generally tall, often with brilliant Scandinavian blue eyes (a deep blue with almost a touch of purple, a genetic feature native to the region) blond/ light haired, and they exercise quite a bit.
While they do drink, they smoke less than the rest of Northern Europe, and rarely overeat. The few chubby people I saw in the country I just assumed were American tourists.

And it's not just a few super hot ones (and that exists in LA as well), I'd have to say on the whole the average is much higher than anywhere else I have been.

The sentiment is generally echoed throughout Scandinavia. In Olso, Norway, there were numerous pretty girls as well. I was told many of them were Swedish.
My friend Ulfar, a 6' 7" basketball player, argued it's even better in his home country of Iceland. From my experience there, I disagree, as even if they have similar Nordic genetics, Icelandic girls simply don't take care of themselves as well. The same holds true for Denmark where they smoke and drink to excess, and often look older than their actual age.

Walk around the center of Stockholm and you're certain to discover your body will keep moving forward while your head rotates back to track the stunner you've just passed. It's a documented medical fact that doctors here treat more cases of whiplash than anywhere else in the world.

Monday, July 21, 2014

A Feel of Stockholm, Sweden- get a Taste

Massive and lush forests extend further than the eye can see.  As our plane approaches, Stockholm's buildings blend pleasingly with the green below.

Barkaby area, 20 kilometers from the city center. Hares the size of medium sized dogs hop away from me, a rare and momentary interruption of the stillness existing here. Residing in the Swedish suburbs is life on Valium.

The train to the center takes 25 minutes, the same distance in LA- double. Public transport here makes life very easy, and far cheaper than using heavily taxed automobiles.
in the middle of Stockholm
Comprised of numerous islands and waterways, Stockholm was founded where battling currents made further progress inland too difficult, forcing ships to stop and unload their goods, a city forming around the port.

fishing in the middle of Stockholm
Beautiful shot of Stockholm, probably around 10 PM- note the sky
The Swedes are ultra-proud of their clean waterways, pristine enough to allow its citizens to fish its canals, in the city center. Singapore might be the world's cleanest city, but Stockholm runs a close second, the difference being $500 fines for littering are unnecessary here. In Scandinavia there is an expectation to follow the rules of society. The Swedes walk in lock step with each other. March to a different beat, and scorn will be heaped.

The city is incredibly quiet by any standard. On this summer evening, few cars pass us as we traverse the streets; still, Swedes don't cross at a red, I find it absolutely mystifying. 

Reading aloud the sky-high prices would make even Martin Luther King Jr. stutter . A wage-flation exists, as unions have successfully gained unskilled workers salaries two to three times their US counterparts, the celebration is tempered by the fact that goods in Sweden rise by the same multiple. A simple HDMI  cable runs $30 to $100 depending on length. On Amazon, the longest is on sale for $7. Eventually you numb yourself into acceptance so you don't go crazy.
like most of Scandainavia, Stockholm is very bike oriented
Swedes- blond, tall, and beautiful as a whole. Doctors here commonly treat tourists with cases of whip lash.

Midsummer, darkness battles to overtake light, never completely successfully. As I doze off at 3 AM, it's seems like more of a daydream.

Stockholm at 2 AM- sunlight

Monday, July 7, 2014

Denmark Tasted. Copenhagen in a Nutshell

Energetic windmills wave their arms excitedly, greeting our plane from the Baltic Sea below.

Metro- clockwork. People helpful, calling my host to inform her I have arrived.
Put away luggage, venture out. Shwarma and fruit stands abound, working class. Graffiti marking the walls of all the buildings, Islamic hijabs on many of the women; neighborhood more Othello than Hamlet.

Walk a kilometer, graffiti sparser, streets nicer, though that's relative, short squat buildings mainly comprised of dirty brick and stone; Prague it's not. Several decimating fires mark Copenhagen's history.
The most interesting building I found in Copenhagen; statues built into the walls

Bike paths on every street, cyclists abound. Pedestrians walk the sidewalk encased in a bubble, eye contact actively avoided.

Runners in workout attire, dichotomous with the numerous smokestacks lining the sidewalk cafes and bars, spewing fumes de cigarettes, fires quenched by liters of alcohol.
Blonde is common, habits aging them quickly.

In the middle of the city is Tivoli, the world's oldest amusement park, the inspiration for Disneyland. Small, yet utterly charming and beautiful, impossible not to instantly adore and love.
Tivoli's Peackcock Theater
A rare, warm, midsummer day, numerous people laid out in a grassy park by the lake absorbing the rare rays of Scandinavian sun, tans absent, vegetation lush.
Many decorative statues line public areas, some magnificent, adding decor otherwise lacking, especially compared to other European capitals.
Taxes high, VAT (Value Added Tax) 25% on all items on top of the 50% citizens pay on their salaries. Building a healthy bank account impossible, but medical care guaranteed by the state.
Safety- certain; crime- scarce, and why would there be? Wealthy society takes care of everyone, most Danes proud of this, even with awareness that some abuse the system. People here fear little, except perhaps social interaction.
Cold and dark days invariably minimize social contact during the winter months. People thaw a little in the summer, but personalities here rarely bloom.

Christiana- the "green light" district. Unlike Hollywood, cameras are not welcome in this druggy enclave as distributing hash and marijuana is still illegal, though large blocks of Moroccan black are cut right out in the open by sun-glass wearing dealers, some shrouding their faces further with tall, stiff jackets.
Throngs of stupid looking customers sit in dilapidated structures baking their brains and numbing themselves further. Their right to do so, I suppose.
on the canals of Copenhagen

A boat ride through the canals. Much of Northern Europe has them, Amsterdam, St. Petersburg, Stockholm.
Check the over-hyped statue of The Little Mermaid from my list.
Our guide's voice is drowned by my cooing over a golden retriever someone brought aboard. This being Denmark, I missed nothing important, and on the off-hand chance I'm wrong, the slobbery, grateful kiss I received more than made up for it.
My Danish best friend- Mavin

Wednesday, July 2, 2014

Hot Comedy Show in a Finnish Sauna- Birch Branches

Even at the height of summer, the weather in Finland equates to a dreary wintry day in Los Angeles. "Anything to warm up," is the unspoken Finnish motto, explaining my host's description of a visit to the local sauna as "a highlight of Helsinki."
Being a Yes Man who accepts of 95% of all suggestions, and having earlier declined a drunk teenager's dare to play chicken with an oncoming train, I was statistically cornered.
Like all else in Nordic countries, saunas here aren't cheap--
Entrance: 12 Euro for that privilege alone.
But where they really make bank are the up-sells that add a uniqueness to the experience, and here I am referring to the 6 euros they charge for frozen, plastic wrapped branches of birch.

"What do I do with the birch branch?"
"Well first you remove the plastic wrapping," explains the owner.
"Sounds intriguing," I remark.
"Then you thaw the branch in a bucket of warm water."
"Excellent plan."
"Then you head into the sauna, and you hit yourself with the branch."
"And this custom is a by-product of the Finnish predilection for high alcohol consumption ?"
Ignoring my pointed question, "You keep hitting yourself. You hit yourself hard and it feels so good."
"And are there any other benefits?" I remark, as I carefully root through the freezer, picking my branch in the same loving manner an executioner might choose his axe.
"Oh God yes," she excitedly explains, "It makes your blood circulate, and it makes you smell so good afterwards. It's amazing."
"A remarkable sales pitch," I remark as I reach for the Euros necessary to participate in this sado-masochist ritual.

I enter the sauna with my now thawed birch, sit, and begin hitting myself with the branch.
If it sounds remarkably stupid, that's because it is.
First of all, I exercise a ton to maintain good blood circulation, secondly, under normal circumstances I'd consider being hit with a branch abuse rather than pleasure. Plus, it hurts.
But there's a story here ...

Now, I don't open my mouth so there is little reason for others to believe I am anything but a local Finn. No one really pays any heed to the normal everyday, run in the mill branch whacker ... the exception being a Chinese tourist, who is doing his best to keep a poker face regarding his surprise about this insane practice.
THWHACK. I smack myself and watch his face register a bemused look on it.
THWHACK- the slight grin amplifies.
THWHACK- it grows again.
Now, honestly, the hit stung, but the echo of the TWHACK reverberating through the chamber nearly makes our Chinese customer lose it. He rises and exits the sauna, barely able to stifle a laugh, which is audibly released as the sauna door shuts behind him. I chuckle to myself and put down the branch, having zero interest in continuing this masochistic practice.
But lo and behold, minutes later, refreshed from a cool shower, our Chinese friend re-enters. Instantly, I pick-up my branch and start repeatedly hitting myself. THWACK, THWACK, THWACK, THWACK ... he's walking back to his seat, but now he's totally losing it, laughing out loud, hard.
The harder I continue to hit myself, the harder our Chinese man laughs, until the Finns inside realize what's going on and my chorus of laughter grows. Me, hot, and likely covered in welts, rises up, walks down the sauna's stadium like stairs, stands in the center of the room, takes a small bow, and exits.
I might have got ripped off of my 18 Euros, but everyone else in the sauna got their money's worth. Be sure to tip your waitresses.
selfie with the tool of comedy afterwards