#oblivious mickey part II

[gallavictorious]

”You going out? I thought you weren't working tonight.”

Mickey looks up from his tie to see Ian leaning against the doorframe, in uniform and with his hair neatly slicked back.

”Nah, it isn't work. Well, not exactly,” he says, finishing the knot and taking a step back to admire the result in the mirror. He's getting pretty good at this. Lots of practice in the last few months, ever since he took the bodyguard gig officially on the road. Clients like it when he wears a tie. ”You know the chick I've been babysitting for the past few weeks, the one whose stalker I caught trying to climb in through the fucking window? She and her dad's taking me to some fancy place, uh... Piccolo something, to thank me. Since you're working the late shift, I thought – ”

Ian interrupts, straightening: ”Piccolo Sogno? Like, that really romantic place down in West Town? You telling me the girl who has a crush on you is taking you there?” He pauses, looking at Mickey with a cross between disbelief and bemusement. ”Are you going on a fucking date?”

Mickey stares at him. ”What the hell are you talking about?” he demands. Crush? Date? What?

---

The chick's name is Charlotte Eckerton.

He was supposed to call her Ms. Eckerton, she insisted he say Charlie, and what he actually went with was usually some classic television reference that she didn't get, or – when she's was being particularly annoying – ”hey, brat”. She was probably no worse than any other spoiled little North Side princess, but Mickey sure as hell didn't get why anyone, no matter how loony, would want to stalk her, because literally all she did was go to class, study, shop, and party with her equally irritating friends. Oh, and endlessly updating her Instagram stories with every last detail about her fascinating life, of course. He put a quick stop to that, because continually announcing your location to the public when a deranged psycho was stalking you was... well, let's face it, it was about as stupid as he expected from these people.

She threw a tantrum when he swapped her phone for one with restricted access to social media apps, and she tried to give him the slip at least twice a day for the first four days, going as far as paying some other goons to attack him while she made a run for it. She was not completely stupid, he had to give her that, and he was beginning to understand why her father had come to him rather than hire a more well-established firm. The girl was a complete nuisance, and occasionally quite clever about it. Clearly needed someone wise to all the tricks, and unafraid to rein her in and tell her in no uncertain terms when she was being an idiot.

Mr. Eckerton was loaded, having made his fortune doing some IT-shit or other, and for the kind of money he was offering, Mickey was prepared to put up with a quite a lot of hare-brained shenanigans, as well as hanging out at the Magnificent Mile afternoon after afternoon, and listening to the brat's endless babble about... hair? Make-up? Bands? Whatever. He didn't really pay attention; he'd have needed to be paid hell of a lot more than he was to do that.

After a week or so of thwarted escape attempts Charlotte had exchanged overt defiance for a more subtle approach, trying to throw him off his game by suddenly gifting him stuff, like a dark gray shirt ”that goes really well with your eyes”. He took the shirt, because it was pretty nice, as was the watch and the stupidly expensive hair-product she produced in the following days. He was a little insulted she thought he could be bought so easily, though; she'd have needed to double her father's money, at the very least – or gotten him a nice car. He had said as much to Ian, who had eyed the gifts with an unreadable expression on his face, and had failed to comment.

When bribery too proved a failed tactic she started asking a lot of personal question instead, fishing for weaknesses to exploit. Her strategy was pitifully obvious, however, and Mickey gave her nothing but monosyllabic responses. Finally, she resigned herself to being stuck with him for the time being, and mercifully stopped pestering him about letting her go to whatever concert or party was happening that night. She still dressed up and put on elaborate make-up every damned evening, though, even if it was just the two of them chilling at her place, but he supposed it was something for her to do. Fuck knew he could sympathize with the boredom of being locked up.  

So that was Charlotte, spoiled and stubborn and maybe a little bit clever underneath it all. Not the worst person he could imagine babysitting, not by a long shot, but not one he'd think back on either, now that the job was done. He probably wouldn't even have accepted her and her father's invitation to take him out for a meal, if it hadn't been for Ian's occasional insistence that he needed to be ”nicer to his clients” and ”cultivate professional contacts”. This only made his husband's reaction to the whole situation all the more annoying –

”It is not a date,” Mickey says flatly, irritation coloring his voice, because Ian is smiling at him in all too knowing way. ”I probably saved her fucking life, she wants to buy me dinner. That doesn't make this a – Listen, her fucking father is going to be there.”

”Yeah, sure he will.” Ian crosses his arms, still smirking like an asshole, but there's just a hint of an edge to the smile now. ”Does she even know you're gay?”

Mickey rolls his eyes. ”Of course she fucking knows, because I open every damned conversation with 'Hi, I'm Mickey and I love cocks' like a normal fucking faggot. Jesus. It hasn't come up. She knows I'm married.”

”Like that's gonna – ”

They're interrupted by the door to Liam's room opening, the boy stepping out to give them his very best judgemental look. ”Why are you yelling? I need to study.”

”Oh, it's nothing,” Ian says casually. ”Just Mickey having a date tonight. With a teenage girl.”

”She’s nineteen, and I am not – !”

Liam frowns. ”Is this like when he was fake-dating Byron to make you jealous? Are you going to go on a fake date too? With a girl?”  He pauses, frown deepening: ””Is there a Grindr for straight people?”

Ian's spared a reply as Lip comes up the stairs with Freddie in his arms. He pauses on the top step, brow furrowing as he takes in the scene: Mickey, dressed to the nines and with a scowl to match, Ian smiling with his arms crossed, and Liam wearing his trademark look, the one that says that everyone else is a bit of an idiot. ”What's going on here?”

”Mickey's going on a date with a woman.” Liam offers it readily, a true believer in the free dissemination of information. Probably something he picked up at private school.

Mickey gives a half-choked groan. ”It's not a – ! You know what, fuck you.” With one last glare and an extended middle finger, Mickey grabs his jacket and storms off.

Ian, Liam and Lip watch him go, nonplussed. Lip glances at Ian: ”Huh. Less than a year of marriage and you've already turned him off men.”

”Yeah, well. Have to admit I didn't see that one coming.”

---

The restaurant is fancy as hell, linen cloth and candlelight, one person to take his coat and another to show him to the table. Charlotte is already there, blonde hair pulled back in a strict ponytail, something expensive glittering around her neck and drawing attention to the generious helping of skin her lowcut black dress offers.

The table is set only for two. Mickey frowns as he takes his seat. ”Your father coming?”

”No.” The smile she gives him is very innocent. ”He got held up in a meeting, so he called to say he can't make it. He said to tell you sorry, and to thank you so much for your service.”

Listen to those alarm bells going off all at once... Mickey tries to mentally shake it off. It's nothing to worry about. Just Ian putting weird ideas into his head. ”Uh, yeah. Don't worry about it. Just doing my job.” He waves for the waiter to bring him a beer. He does need a drink, quite urgently.

Charlotte leans forward, looking up at him from under half-closed lids with a very intense expression on her perfectly moisturized face. ”You were so brave when Smithson attacked me. I don't know how I can ever thank you enough. You know, my father is paying for this meal, but if there was something else you wanted... ?”

And that's her grabbing the olive from her drink and very deliberately pushing it past her lips and that's... that's her foot, sans shoe, slowly sliding down his calf.

Oh. Fuck. This is a date. Inwardly groaning, Mickey rubs a tired hand over his face, before looking straight at Charlotte: ”You know I'm fucking gay, right? Like, married to a man?”  Jesus, Ian is never going to let him hear the end of this...

Charlotte reels back just a little, mouth falling slightly open. He's prepared for shock, disgust even – but instead a dreamy look appears on her face. ”Oh my god, that is sooo hot!”

What?

---

He feigns sleep when Ian returns home a quarter past midnight, but his husband isn't fooled. ”How was your date?” he murmurs as he slips in under the covers and wraps his arms around Mickey from behind.

”Shut the fuck up.”

A quiet laugh, a kiss pressed to his shoulder. ”I take it you're sticking with cocks for now then.”

And sure, there's a teasing edge to the words, and sure, he'll hear about this for-fucking-ever, but... Mickey turns around, facing Ian. ”I guess I am,” he agrees, reaching up to run his thumb over Ian's cheek.

Whatever mischief is there fades from Ian's eyes, from his voice: ”I'm glad,” he says simply, and pulls Mickey in for a kiss.

Yeah. So is he.

---

This one goes out to @starkcravingmad​  who suggested a teenage charge crushing on a clueless Mickey, in a reply to this post. I know you didn't ask me to write it, and I have no idea if this is even vaguely related to what you had in mind, but for better or worse you planted the seed, and here we are. Didn't intend for it to get this long, or this silly, but yeah.

[adambstingus]

The 5 Oddest American Trends That Other Countries Stole

America is the great melting pot. Generations upon generations of disparate cultures, all just stewing together in the tasty broth of freedom. That’s what made the country what it is today: A barren hellscape patrolled by Corporate Overbots, murderous brand-enforcement drones whose every thundering step sends fear into- Oh, sorry, that’s tomorrow. We skipped ahead a bit in the chronology. We meant to say, “That’s what made the country what it is today: a cultural powerhouse.” In fact, America Americas so hard that even other, less-American countries have to get in on this All-American action. Like …

5

North Koreans Hate America (But Love American Brands)

North Koreans are taught that everything wrong with the world — and especially everything wrong with North Korea — is solely the fault of America and the evils of capitalism. That’s why it’s so odd that, when French photographer Eric Lafforgue toured the country to capture a photographic essay of its people, he came back with pics like these:

Eric Lafforgue “Just Do It … Or You Go To Gulag.”

All across Pyongyang, Lafforgue encountered people sporting distinctly American corporate logos: Nike, McDonald’s, Mickey Mouse, and … Bart Simpson?

Eric Lafforgue Better to eat shorts than to eat nothing at all.

When asked about the products, citizens didn’t see any problem: They told Lafforgue that they were Chinese in origin. And that’s not entirely wrong — the vast majority of North Korea’s goods are imported from China, aka “America’s sweatshop.”

It doesn’t end at clothing: Here’s an obvious rip-off of America’s favorite soda, creatively relabeled “Cocoa Crabonated [sic] Drink.”

Eric Lafforgue GET CRABS.

After six successful trips to North Korea, and smuggling out hundreds of photos, Lafforgue was eventually banned from the country — whether for exposing its rampant poverty, its hypocritical love of Western products, or just to keep Coke from sending Copyright lawyers to Pyongyang, we simply do not know.

4

American Subcultures Never Die; They Just Retire To Japan

Japan has no shortage of unique subcultures, ranging from people who dress like dolls, all the way to people who dress like other, more disturbing dolls. But there’s plenty of America in that mix: Take, for example, Chicano Rap, coming at you straight from Tokyo (by way of East L.A., by way of Mexico). It all started when record label owner Shin Miyata became fascinated with everyone’s sixth favorite ’70s cop show, CHiPs, and the Chicano culture depicted therein. The subculture has since grown into a veritable phenomenon, complete with lowriders, black-and-white tattoos, and seriously on-point makeup.

They’re repping Eastside. No, farther east. Farther still …

Performers in the genre don’t mimic cholo lifestyle lightly — they full-on embody it, adopting entirely new identities like MoNa aka Sad Girl, El Latino, and GARCiA. But even Tokyo’s Cholos aren’t as dedicated as Tokyo’s Rockabillies.

This is revenge for Elvis’ “kimono” period.

Unlike America, where Rockabilly has been largely forgotten, the genre saw a huge resurgence in ’80s Japan, and it only grew in the ’90s. Now, on any given Sunday, you can find the Tokyo Rockabilly Club in Yoyogi park. Don’t worry, you can’t miss them: They’ll be the ones decked out in full leather, rocking out to the finest of the ’50s, and sporting duck’s ass hairdos you could — nay, should — ramp a DeSoto off of.

The line between “pompadour” and “anime lightning hair” is a fine one.

3

European “American Parties” Feature Red Solo Cups And A Million Calories

If Instagram is any indication, “American Parties” have taken Europe by storm, presumably landing at Normandy before sweeping south and to the east.

And you thought they hated us!

Everyone knows the only thing Americans love more than Old Glory and casual racism is fueling their ever-growing waistlines, so one of the most important aspects of an American party is the food: Sloppy Joes, hamburgers, hot dogs, pizza, donuts, popcorn, French fries, soda, and anything else with at least a 500:1 calorie-to-nutrient ratio. But the single most important element of any American Party is, of course, the humble red Solo cup.

And their version of beer pong is somehow more American than ours.

As any ’90s teen comedy film can tell you, it is literally impossible to throw a party in the U.S.A. without red Solo cups. They’re so crucial to the experience that Europeans have taken to begging their U.S.-bound friends and relatives to bring back as many packs of them as their luggage can handle.

That’s presumably also how they smuggle in their party attire, because there’s simply no other way to dress so authentically American:

That cop is missing, like, three layers of riot gear.

Of course, there’s a thin line between authenticity and “wildly offensive.”

Actually, this is pretty authentic too.

2

Germans Have A Strange Obsession With Playing Indian

Adult Germans have an inexplicable obsession with playing Cowboys and Indians. Well, with the “Indians” part, anyway.

Hey, if your most memorable cultural stereotype was the Nazis, you might widen your net, too.

Actually, digging into it a bit, it may be more explicable than we first thought: When American soldiers liberated Berlin at the end of World War II, they were surprised to find that, just like the kids back home, German children loved to play at a romanticized version of the American Old West. This was largely due to the work of German author Karl May, who drew upon his vast experience of having once read The Last Of The Mohicans to pen a series of novels recounting the thrilling adventures of Old Shatterhand, a German immigrant to America who travels the plains with an Apache leader known as Winnetou.

Those books, in turn, inspired an immensely popular series of 1960s films, and that’s how you wind up with countless Germans — who already have a “thing” for nudity — citing authenticity as an excuse to barely cover their dongs with miniscule strips of leather.

“Hey, baby. Wanna help me use every part of the buffalo?”

Germany is host to hundreds of hobbyist clubs in which “thousands of Germans with an American Indian fetish drink firewater, wear turquoise jewelry and run around places like Baden-Wurttemberg or Schleswig-Holstein dressed as Comanches and Apaches.” These enthusiasts spend their weekends camping out in teepees, reenacting battles between tribes, giving themselves native-sounding names like “White Wolf” and “Great Eagle (but not the Nazi kind),” and just generally doing lots of things involving feathers.

“THIS IS SHAWNEE!”

1

Brazil Has An Annual Festival Honoring The American Confederacy

If you’re a shitty person looking to flee the consequences of your own shittiness, look no further than South America. You might think we’re referring to its notorious infestation of Nazi war criminals, but they were just following in the grand tradition of defeated racists before them …

Eighty years before the Nazis fled to the sun and fun of Brazil, at least 10,000 Civil War Confederates did the same. Today, their descendants, known as the Confederados, honor their Southern American roots every April at the Festa Confederada in — no shit — Americana, Brazil.

In direct contrast to literally everything you’d rightfully assume about it, the “Confederate Party” is actually a multi-ethnic celebration, where people of every skin color gather to eat fried chicken, dress in period-appropriate clothing, square dance, and remain entirely oblivious to the bigoted roots of the culture they’re celebrating.

“We were told it was about states’ rights and nothing else, yes?”

If anything, the celebration is actively anti-hate, with festival organizers instituting a gate check where burly bouncers filter out anyone displaying the SS, the swastika, the KKK insignia, or any other imagery commonly associated with white supremacy … the obvious exception being, you know, all the rebel flags.

Follow Alyssa on Twitter.

Also check out 5 Bizarre Subcultures Way Crazier Than Anything From Japan and 5 Insane Subcultures That Might Become The Next Hipster.

Subscribe to our YouTube channel, and check out Why Americans Suck At Partying, and other videos you won’t see on the site!

Follow us on Facebook, and we’ll follow you everywhere.

from All Of Beer http://allofbeer.com/2017/12/21/the-5-oddest-american-trends-that-other-countries-stole/ from All of Beer https://allofbeercom.tumblr.com/post/168769089737

[samanthasroberts]

The 5 Oddest American Trends That Other Countries Stole

America is the great melting pot. Generations upon generations of disparate cultures, all just stewing together in the tasty broth of freedom. That’s what made the country what it is today: A barren hellscape patrolled by Corporate Overbots, murderous brand-enforcement drones whose every thundering step sends fear into- Oh, sorry, that’s tomorrow. We skipped ahead a bit in the chronology. We meant to say, “That’s what made the country what it is today: a cultural powerhouse.” In fact, America Americas so hard that even other, less-American countries have to get in on this All-American action. Like …

5

North Koreans Hate America (But Love American Brands)

North Koreans are taught that everything wrong with the world — and especially everything wrong with North Korea — is solely the fault of America and the evils of capitalism. That’s why it’s so odd that, when French photographer Eric Lafforgue toured the country to capture a photographic essay of its people, he came back with pics like these:

Eric Lafforgue “Just Do It … Or You Go To Gulag.”

All across Pyongyang, Lafforgue encountered people sporting distinctly American corporate logos: Nike, McDonald’s, Mickey Mouse, and … Bart Simpson?

Eric Lafforgue Better to eat shorts than to eat nothing at all.

When asked about the products, citizens didn’t see any problem: They told Lafforgue that they were Chinese in origin. And that’s not entirely wrong — the vast majority of North Korea’s goods are imported from China, aka “America’s sweatshop.”

It doesn’t end at clothing: Here’s an obvious rip-off of America’s favorite soda, creatively relabeled “Cocoa Crabonated [sic] Drink.”

Eric Lafforgue GET CRABS.

After six successful trips to North Korea, and smuggling out hundreds of photos, Lafforgue was eventually banned from the country — whether for exposing its rampant poverty, its hypocritical love of Western products, or just to keep Coke from sending Copyright lawyers to Pyongyang, we simply do not know.

4

American Subcultures Never Die; They Just Retire To Japan

Japan has no shortage of unique subcultures, ranging from people who dress like dolls, all the way to people who dress like other, more disturbing dolls. But there’s plenty of America in that mix: Take, for example, Chicano Rap, coming at you straight from Tokyo (by way of East L.A., by way of Mexico). It all started when record label owner Shin Miyata became fascinated with everyone’s sixth favorite ’70s cop show, CHiPs, and the Chicano culture depicted therein. The subculture has since grown into a veritable phenomenon, complete with lowriders, black-and-white tattoos, and seriously on-point makeup.

They’re repping Eastside. No, farther east. Farther still …

Performers in the genre don’t mimic cholo lifestyle lightly — they full-on embody it, adopting entirely new identities like MoNa aka Sad Girl, El Latino, and GARCiA. But even Tokyo’s Cholos aren’t as dedicated as Tokyo’s Rockabillies.

This is revenge for Elvis’ “kimono” period.

Unlike America, where Rockabilly has been largely forgotten, the genre saw a huge resurgence in ’80s Japan, and it only grew in the ’90s. Now, on any given Sunday, you can find the Tokyo Rockabilly Club in Yoyogi park. Don’t worry, you can’t miss them: They’ll be the ones decked out in full leather, rocking out to the finest of the ’50s, and sporting duck’s ass hairdos you could — nay, should — ramp a DeSoto off of.

The line between “pompadour” and “anime lightning hair” is a fine one.

3

European “American Parties” Feature Red Solo Cups And A Million Calories

If Instagram is any indication, “American Parties” have taken Europe by storm, presumably landing at Normandy before sweeping south and to the east.

And you thought they hated us!

Everyone knows the only thing Americans love more than Old Glory and casual racism is fueling their ever-growing waistlines, so one of the most important aspects of an American party is the food: Sloppy Joes, hamburgers, hot dogs, pizza, donuts, popcorn, French fries, soda, and anything else with at least a 500:1 calorie-to-nutrient ratio. But the single most important element of any American Party is, of course, the humble red Solo cup.

And their version of beer pong is somehow more American than ours.

As any ’90s teen comedy film can tell you, it is literally impossible to throw a party in the U.S.A. without red Solo cups. They’re so crucial to the experience that Europeans have taken to begging their U.S.-bound friends and relatives to bring back as many packs of them as their luggage can handle.

That’s presumably also how they smuggle in their party attire, because there’s simply no other way to dress so authentically American:

That cop is missing, like, three layers of riot gear.

Of course, there’s a thin line between authenticity and “wildly offensive.”

Actually, this is pretty authentic too.

2

Germans Have A Strange Obsession With Playing Indian

Adult Germans have an inexplicable obsession with playing Cowboys and Indians. Well, with the “Indians” part, anyway.

Hey, if your most memorable cultural stereotype was the Nazis, you might widen your net, too.

Actually, digging into it a bit, it may be more explicable than we first thought: When American soldiers liberated Berlin at the end of World War II, they were surprised to find that, just like the kids back home, German children loved to play at a romanticized version of the American Old West. This was largely due to the work of German author Karl May, who drew upon his vast experience of having once read The Last Of The Mohicans to pen a series of novels recounting the thrilling adventures of Old Shatterhand, a German immigrant to America who travels the plains with an Apache leader known as Winnetou.

Those books, in turn, inspired an immensely popular series of 1960s films, and that’s how you wind up with countless Germans — who already have a “thing” for nudity — citing authenticity as an excuse to barely cover their dongs with miniscule strips of leather.

“Hey, baby. Wanna help me use every part of the buffalo?”

Germany is host to hundreds of hobbyist clubs in which “thousands of Germans with an American Indian fetish drink firewater, wear turquoise jewelry and run around places like Baden-Wurttemberg or Schleswig-Holstein dressed as Comanches and Apaches.” These enthusiasts spend their weekends camping out in teepees, reenacting battles between tribes, giving themselves native-sounding names like “White Wolf” and “Great Eagle (but not the Nazi kind),” and just generally doing lots of things involving feathers.

“THIS IS SHAWNEE!”

1

Brazil Has An Annual Festival Honoring The American Confederacy

If you’re a shitty person looking to flee the consequences of your own shittiness, look no further than South America. You might think we’re referring to its notorious infestation of Nazi war criminals, but they were just following in the grand tradition of defeated racists before them …

Eighty years before the Nazis fled to the sun and fun of Brazil, at least 10,000 Civil War Confederates did the same. Today, their descendants, known as the Confederados, honor their Southern American roots every April at the Festa Confederada in — no shit — Americana, Brazil.

In direct contrast to literally everything you’d rightfully assume about it, the “Confederate Party” is actually a multi-ethnic celebration, where people of every skin color gather to eat fried chicken, dress in period-appropriate clothing, square dance, and remain entirely oblivious to the bigoted roots of the culture they’re celebrating.

“We were told it was about states’ rights and nothing else, yes?”

If anything, the celebration is actively anti-hate, with festival organizers instituting a gate check where burly bouncers filter out anyone displaying the SS, the swastika, the KKK insignia, or any other imagery commonly associated with white supremacy … the obvious exception being, you know, all the rebel flags.

Follow Alyssa on Twitter.

Also check out 5 Bizarre Subcultures Way Crazier Than Anything From Japan and 5 Insane Subcultures That Might Become The Next Hipster.

Subscribe to our YouTube channel, and check out Why Americans Suck At Partying, and other videos you won’t see on the site!

Follow us on Facebook, and we’ll follow you everywhere.

Source: http://allofbeer.com/2017/12/21/the-5-oddest-american-trends-that-other-countries-stole/

from All of Beer https://allofbeer.wordpress.com/2017/12/21/the-5-oddest-american-trends-that-other-countries-stole/

[allofbeercom]

The 5 Oddest American Trends That Other Countries Stole

America is the great melting pot. Generations upon generations of disparate cultures, all just stewing together in the tasty broth of freedom. That’s what made the country what it is today: A barren hellscape patrolled by Corporate Overbots, murderous brand-enforcement drones whose every thundering step sends fear into- Oh, sorry, that’s tomorrow. We skipped ahead a bit in the chronology. We meant to say, “That’s what made the country what it is today: a cultural powerhouse.” In fact, America Americas so hard that even other, less-American countries have to get in on this All-American action. Like …

5

North Koreans Hate America (But Love American Brands)

North Koreans are taught that everything wrong with the world — and especially everything wrong with North Korea — is solely the fault of America and the evils of capitalism. That’s why it’s so odd that, when French photographer Eric Lafforgue toured the country to capture a photographic essay of its people, he came back with pics like these:

Eric Lafforgue “Just Do It … Or You Go To Gulag.”

All across Pyongyang, Lafforgue encountered people sporting distinctly American corporate logos: Nike, McDonald’s, Mickey Mouse, and … Bart Simpson?

Eric Lafforgue Better to eat shorts than to eat nothing at all.

When asked about the products, citizens didn’t see any problem: They told Lafforgue that they were Chinese in origin. And that’s not entirely wrong — the vast majority of North Korea’s goods are imported from China, aka “America’s sweatshop.”

It doesn’t end at clothing: Here’s an obvious rip-off of America’s favorite soda, creatively relabeled “Cocoa Crabonated [sic] Drink.”

Eric Lafforgue GET CRABS.

After six successful trips to North Korea, and smuggling out hundreds of photos, Lafforgue was eventually banned from the country — whether for exposing its rampant poverty, its hypocritical love of Western products, or just to keep Coke from sending Copyright lawyers to Pyongyang, we simply do not know.

4

American Subcultures Never Die; They Just Retire To Japan

Japan has no shortage of unique subcultures, ranging from people who dress like dolls, all the way to people who dress like other, more disturbing dolls. But there’s plenty of America in that mix: Take, for example, Chicano Rap, coming at you straight from Tokyo (by way of East L.A., by way of Mexico). It all started when record label owner Shin Miyata became fascinated with everyone’s sixth favorite ’70s cop show, CHiPs, and the Chicano culture depicted therein. The subculture has since grown into a veritable phenomenon, complete with lowriders, black-and-white tattoos, and seriously on-point makeup.

They’re repping Eastside. No, farther east. Farther still …

Performers in the genre don’t mimic cholo lifestyle lightly — they full-on embody it, adopting entirely new identities like MoNa aka Sad Girl, El Latino, and GARCiA. But even Tokyo’s Cholos aren’t as dedicated as Tokyo’s Rockabillies.

This is revenge for Elvis’ “kimono” period.

Unlike America, where Rockabilly has been largely forgotten, the genre saw a huge resurgence in ’80s Japan, and it only grew in the ’90s. Now, on any given Sunday, you can find the Tokyo Rockabilly Club in Yoyogi park. Don’t worry, you can’t miss them: They’ll be the ones decked out in full leather, rocking out to the finest of the ’50s, and sporting duck’s ass hairdos you could — nay, should — ramp a DeSoto off of.

The line between “pompadour” and “anime lightning hair” is a fine one.

3

European “American Parties” Feature Red Solo Cups And A Million Calories

If Instagram is any indication, “American Parties” have taken Europe by storm, presumably landing at Normandy before sweeping south and to the east.

And you thought they hated us!

Everyone knows the only thing Americans love more than Old Glory and casual racism is fueling their ever-growing waistlines, so one of the most important aspects of an American party is the food: Sloppy Joes, hamburgers, hot dogs, pizza, donuts, popcorn, French fries, soda, and anything else with at least a 500:1 calorie-to-nutrient ratio. But the single most important element of any American Party is, of course, the humble red Solo cup.

And their version of beer pong is somehow more American than ours.

As any ’90s teen comedy film can tell you, it is literally impossible to throw a party in the U.S.A. without red Solo cups. They’re so crucial to the experience that Europeans have taken to begging their U.S.-bound friends and relatives to bring back as many packs of them as their luggage can handle.

That’s presumably also how they smuggle in their party attire, because there’s simply no other way to dress so authentically American:

That cop is missing, like, three layers of riot gear.

Of course, there’s a thin line between authenticity and “wildly offensive.”

Actually, this is pretty authentic too.

2

Germans Have A Strange Obsession With Playing Indian

Adult Germans have an inexplicable obsession with playing Cowboys and Indians. Well, with the “Indians” part, anyway.

Hey, if your most memorable cultural stereotype was the Nazis, you might widen your net, too.

Actually, digging into it a bit, it may be more explicable than we first thought: When American soldiers liberated Berlin at the end of World War II, they were surprised to find that, just like the kids back home, German children loved to play at a romanticized version of the American Old West. This was largely due to the work of German author Karl May, who drew upon his vast experience of having once read The Last Of The Mohicans to pen a series of novels recounting the thrilling adventures of Old Shatterhand, a German immigrant to America who travels the plains with an Apache leader known as Winnetou.

Those books, in turn, inspired an immensely popular series of 1960s films, and that’s how you wind up with countless Germans — who already have a “thing” for nudity — citing authenticity as an excuse to barely cover their dongs with miniscule strips of leather.

“Hey, baby. Wanna help me use every part of the buffalo?”

Germany is host to hundreds of hobbyist clubs in which “thousands of Germans with an American Indian fetish drink firewater, wear turquoise jewelry and run around places like Baden-Wurttemberg or Schleswig-Holstein dressed as Comanches and Apaches.” These enthusiasts spend their weekends camping out in teepees, reenacting battles between tribes, giving themselves native-sounding names like “White Wolf” and “Great Eagle (but not the Nazi kind),” and just generally doing lots of things involving feathers.

“THIS IS SHAWNEE!”

1

Brazil Has An Annual Festival Honoring The American Confederacy

If you’re a shitty person looking to flee the consequences of your own shittiness, look no further than South America. You might think we’re referring to its notorious infestation of Nazi war criminals, but they were just following in the grand tradition of defeated racists before them …

Eighty years before the Nazis fled to the sun and fun of Brazil, at least 10,000 Civil War Confederates did the same. Today, their descendants, known as the Confederados, honor their Southern American roots every April at the Festa Confederada in — no shit — Americana, Brazil.

In direct contrast to literally everything you’d rightfully assume about it, the “Confederate Party��� is actually a multi-ethnic celebration, where people of every skin color gather to eat fried chicken, dress in period-appropriate clothing, square dance, and remain entirely oblivious to the bigoted roots of the culture they’re celebrating.

“We were told it was about states’ rights and nothing else, yes?”

If anything, the celebration is actively anti-hate, with festival organizers instituting a gate check where burly bouncers filter out anyone displaying the SS, the swastika, the KKK insignia, or any other imagery commonly associated with white supremacy … the obvious exception being, you know, all the rebel flags.

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from All Of Beer http://allofbeer.com/2017/12/21/the-5-oddest-american-trends-that-other-countries-stole/

[gallavictorious]

I want the people Mickey work with at the store to be dorky and maybe bit bland but generally sweet (a bit like the staff at the cup company Fiona worked for), and for them to just like Mickey. Admittedly, they probably do that in part because they are too vanilla to get that Mickey actually is just as rough and dangerous as he appears to be. They'll be like: ”Yes, this is our Mickey, he is really grumpy and swears a lot, but he is a sweetheart really and We Love Him.” I also want Mickey to be absolutely in the dark about this, and continually failing to pick up on any clues that these people think he's kind of adorable, in a scary way. (And let's be clear: Mickey isn't not perceptive – but he's just really not interested in the opinions of people he doesn't care about, so he pays zero attention.)

When Ian eventually meets them – at a company social or whatever, one which Mickey had not planned to attend but Ian demands they do – he's like: ”But these people really like you.” All delighted like, because this is hilarious. And sweet. And Mickey just does that disbelieving/confused thing with his eyebrows, you know which one I mean: ”The fuck they do. What the hell are you on about? Shut up and eat your corndog.”