Read Online Catherine Price by 101 Places Not to See Before You Die - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: 101 Places Not to See Before You Die
Ads: Link
rest stops is their ambition; it’s hard, after all, to build a service area that really captures the essence of Alexander Hamilton. But with a Roy Rogers and a Carvel, no one can say they didn’t try.
Chapter 32 The Room Where Spam Subject Lines Are Created
T he subject lines for spam are probably the product of some electronic word scrambler, but I like to think that they are the brainchildren of a secret society of perverts. I imagine these men meeting in a subterranean room someplace in the former Soviet Union, flipping through stacks of porn as they toss ideas back and forth about what tagline is most likely to boost illicit Viagra sales.
“Your dick will explode!” shouts a chubby bald man, looking up from his favorite teenage centerfold.
“Too literal. I like ‘Nasty anal fruit salad,’ ” says another, fingers poised above his computer’s sticky keyboard.
“How about ‘Put your horse in my pussy’?” suggests a man at the front of the room. Well respected by his peers, he is known for his use of metaphor, most recently in a campaign titled “Power up your meat cigar.”
“I think we’re going for something more along the lines of ‘Knock down trees with your GIANT COCK,’ ” responds a bespectacled man. “We don’t want to confuse people.”
Before he can elaborate a short man jumps out of the shadows—the resident surrealist. “Hamburgler orgasms!” he shouts. “Ascent tampon! Dong toast!”
After a brief masturbation break, the men debate suggestions ranging from the religious (“I’ve got a twelve-inch rabbi”) to the seasonal (“What’s new in summer? Testicles”). Eventually they settle on a polite inquiry—“I HUMBLY REQUEST FOR YOUR ASS.”
And then, as they prepare for a celebratory dong toast, the leader of the group hits “send.”
Chapter 33 Anywhere Written About by Nick Kristof
Fred Conrad/ New York Times
N ick Kristof, the two-time Pullitzer Prize–winning columnist for the New York Times , gravitates toward subjects most people don’t want to think about. Rape victims in Pakistan, dying mothers in West Africa, slum dwellers in Haiti—if a story says “human tragedy,” Kristof will find it. Through his columns, blog, books, and videos, he encourages people to pay attention to atrocities so awful that they’re tempting to ignore.
This is a great public service, but it doesn’t mean you should allow Kristof to plan your next family vacation. “He’s . . . one of the very few Americans to be at least a two-time visitor to every member of the Axis of Evil,” says his Times bio. “During his travels, he has had unpleasant experiences with malaria, mobs and an African airplane crash.” In a column of tips for student travelers, he skips standard advice (“Bring earplugs!”) and heads straight for the nitty-gritty: “If you are held up by bandits with large guns, shake hands respectfully with each of your persecutors,” he writes. “It’s very important to be polite to people who might kill you.”
On the upside, though, Kristof definitely knows how to avoid tourist traps. And he’s not one for crappy souvenirs. Whereas most people blow their vacation budgets on booze and tacky T-shirts, Kristof puts his money toward more worthy causes: he once celebrated a trip to Cambodia by buying two teenagers out of slavery.
NICK KRISTOF
Experiences That Nick Kristof Does Not Think Are Worth Having Before You Die
• Being stuck at a small airport in Xishuangbanna, China, soon after it opened to foreigners. With the entire town watching, the security guard searches my bag, finds my deodorant—and asks what it is. As a fascinated crowd of several hundred people listens attentively, I try to explain that Westerners use this to avoid stinking.
• Sitting trapped in a small UN-chartered plane as it is preparing to crash-land in the Democratic Republic of the Congo in the middle of the civil war. On the bright side, I have my laptop and satellite phone,
Chapter 32 The Room Where Spam Subject Lines Are Created
T he subject lines for spam are probably the product of some electronic word scrambler, but I like to think that they are the brainchildren of a secret society of perverts. I imagine these men meeting in a subterranean room someplace in the former Soviet Union, flipping through stacks of porn as they toss ideas back and forth about what tagline is most likely to boost illicit Viagra sales.
“Your dick will explode!” shouts a chubby bald man, looking up from his favorite teenage centerfold.
“Too literal. I like ‘Nasty anal fruit salad,’ ” says another, fingers poised above his computer’s sticky keyboard.
“How about ‘Put your horse in my pussy’?” suggests a man at the front of the room. Well respected by his peers, he is known for his use of metaphor, most recently in a campaign titled “Power up your meat cigar.”
“I think we’re going for something more along the lines of ‘Knock down trees with your GIANT COCK,’ ” responds a bespectacled man. “We don’t want to confuse people.”
Before he can elaborate a short man jumps out of the shadows—the resident surrealist. “Hamburgler orgasms!” he shouts. “Ascent tampon! Dong toast!”
After a brief masturbation break, the men debate suggestions ranging from the religious (“I’ve got a twelve-inch rabbi”) to the seasonal (“What’s new in summer? Testicles”). Eventually they settle on a polite inquiry—“I HUMBLY REQUEST FOR YOUR ASS.”
And then, as they prepare for a celebratory dong toast, the leader of the group hits “send.”
Chapter 33 Anywhere Written About by Nick Kristof
Fred Conrad/ New York Times
N ick Kristof, the two-time Pullitzer Prize–winning columnist for the New York Times , gravitates toward subjects most people don’t want to think about. Rape victims in Pakistan, dying mothers in West Africa, slum dwellers in Haiti—if a story says “human tragedy,” Kristof will find it. Through his columns, blog, books, and videos, he encourages people to pay attention to atrocities so awful that they’re tempting to ignore.
This is a great public service, but it doesn’t mean you should allow Kristof to plan your next family vacation. “He’s . . . one of the very few Americans to be at least a two-time visitor to every member of the Axis of Evil,” says his Times bio. “During his travels, he has had unpleasant experiences with malaria, mobs and an African airplane crash.” In a column of tips for student travelers, he skips standard advice (“Bring earplugs!”) and heads straight for the nitty-gritty: “If you are held up by bandits with large guns, shake hands respectfully with each of your persecutors,” he writes. “It’s very important to be polite to people who might kill you.”
On the upside, though, Kristof definitely knows how to avoid tourist traps. And he’s not one for crappy souvenirs. Whereas most people blow their vacation budgets on booze and tacky T-shirts, Kristof puts his money toward more worthy causes: he once celebrated a trip to Cambodia by buying two teenagers out of slavery.
NICK KRISTOF
Experiences That Nick Kristof Does Not Think Are Worth Having Before You Die
• Being stuck at a small airport in Xishuangbanna, China, soon after it opened to foreigners. With the entire town watching, the security guard searches my bag, finds my deodorant—and asks what it is. As a fascinated crowd of several hundred people listens attentively, I try to explain that Westerners use this to avoid stinking.
• Sitting trapped in a small UN-chartered plane as it is preparing to crash-land in the Democratic Republic of the Congo in the middle of the civil war. On the bright side, I have my laptop and satellite phone,
Similar Books
