The Bachelor: A Guest Post by Arch Stanton

I have recently got way too into the Bachelor, and they just released the cast of wannabes, and I spent waaaaaaay too long writing this.

I got way too excited when I saw the cast for this season was released. And only four days before the premier! So much to consider in so little time! Let’s see who is here to pick up a couple thousand followers on Instragram, a protein supplement sponsorship and a future life as a D-list celebrity find love!

Adam:  His most embarrassing moment was telling his mother he was going on the Bachelorette, which is probably pretty accurate. The most romantic present he’s ever received was a threesome, which, good for him I suppose, and probably replaces “going on the Bachelorette” as the most embarrassing thing he’s had to tell his mom. His hair looks like a Brillo pad.

Alex: What the fuck is that haircut? It’s like Jordan Rodgers fucked a light socket. Ate a live salamander once. I’m sure there’s a story behind that, but I really don’t give a shit. His three favorite bands are the Beatles, Coldplay, and couldn’t think of a third because “music isn’t a big part of my life.” This has to be the first time any human being has said that. I meant the actually-enjoying-Coldplay part. They have to be the worst band on the planet. Nickelback has a target audience, and that audience isn’t me, but it’s basically sonic wallpaper that I can ignore if I hear. Coldplay is like auditory punishment of just generic trash. What if we took Radiohead, but made it for illiterate high school girls who want to seem deep? Coldplay. Plus, Chris Martin hooked up with Jennifer Lawrence and is 50% responsible for the term “conscious uncoupling.” My hatred for Coldplay is endless, and by proxy, Alex. Fuck you Alex, and fuck you Coldplay.

Anthony: Describes himself as “the laid back one that turns into the party starter as the night goes on” – so a lush in other words. Took a job teaching English in Indonesia, got a Fulbright Grant to teach in the Ivory Coast, read Haruki Murakami – frontrunner because he seems like a real human being rather than a sentient haircut. Yes I’m still pissed at Alex. Has no limits to what he’ll do in the bedroom if there’s a connection – I am going to interpret this as an interest in pegging. He could win if Rachel doesn’t mind that he looks like Shrek.

Blake E: His occupation is “aspiring drummer.” ASPIRING. Dude. I Googled “drumset” and you can get one for like $400.00. There is no reason to aspire, you can go get one for cheaper than the cost of a new phone. Stop aspiring and just apply yourself to something. I sound like my dad. I really want to figure out why he can’t just be a drummer instead of aspiring to be one, but said he was engaged for 48 hours, which really needs to be addressed. I’m sure this will be featured in an episode that involves him crying or coming off like a douchebag, which if we’re being fair, is how every single dude will end up looking by the time their run on this show is over. Said parking ticket people have no souls – harsh, but fair.

Blake K: Most admires his mother, which I’m sure he will try to parlay into being a feminist in a later episode. Chipotle is his life. Dream bigger, friend. Said he wouldn’t eat monkey brains for love – that is oddly specific. Is scared of sharks – this is fair, because they are literally prehistoric monsters bred exclusively to kill, and will result in him swimming with sharks on a date should he be fortunate enough to get that far. Spoiler – he won’t, because he’s Asian.

Brady: Male model, but judging on the picture, the non-threatening type you would see in a Kohl’s flyer your mom would think is handsome but probably gay. His least favorite three things to do on a date are 1. Pay for everything, 2. Say goodnight, and 3. Get an Uber that doesn’t speak English. This escalated quickly. Moved to Milan for two months – THIS is a story I want to hear. Why only two months? That’s not very long. Did he go trying to be a runway model only to wash out? I met a girl who once moved to New York City for two months – she quit her job and didn’t tell her family, and immediately ran out of money upon getting there and ended up moving back in with her family. This has nothing to do with Brady but seemed related.

Bryan: Has a face that looks familiar, in the sense I want to punch him for no real reason. Says he enjoys the Bachelor franchise because of the social interaction between a man and a woman as they evolve from dating to a relationship to marriage. Bryan, you’re already on the show you don’t need to kiss the producers’ ass anym – actual yeah, if you want to last more than two weeks, you should definitely start kissing ass now, since they rest of this bio is boring. This means he’s probably normal.

Bryce: Has the face of a Minecraft character. Seriously, you could slap a little bit of mortar on his forehead and use it as a brick. Firefighter. Describes himself as the “laidback shot of gasoline when the fire starts to die.” Caught a girl’s hair on fire during sex. First, congrats on the boning. Second, this guy is a pyromaniac masquerading as a firefighter to avoid detection – the Dexter of firefighters. In describing himself as a lover, he said he is “a fresh drink of water with a jolt of lightning” – Rachel, do not have sex with this man. He will electrocute you and/or set you on fire, but he definitely will not make you cum.

Dean: Looks like a minor character in a Jughead comic. Occupation is “startup recruiter” – I’m not clear on what position entails. Wants to push the limits of what he and date would be comfortable with, but is VERY CLEAR that this does not entail biting. Archie does not want to be bit. When asked “what does being married mean to you?,” responded with a spiel about an institutionalized sham derived from religious beliefs that’s a life-long commitment. This dude should read up on what he is signing up for because this is a sham for entirely different reasons, namely in that it is not life-long. I am at 1,000 words already and there is still so much to go.

DeMario: Likes attention, but not like ’07 B. Spears or ’11 Sheen. Wants a relationship like “Beyonce and Jay Z, because Bey and Jay = everyone’s relationship goals”. I swear that’s written verbatim. I didn’t think it was possible, but yes, a black guy can be basic.

Diggy: What the fuck is that name? That’s a nickname right? Looks like Christopher Darden from the People vs OJ with those glasses. Won a “sexual positions” contest in Cancun on spring break once. You should be able to put that on your resume to impress the hiring manager in HR. Was stranded on a toiler for hours in fifth grade – that seems like a problem that could be solved with the complex solution of “standing up” (don’t fret, FDR had trouble with that one too). Once slept with a girl and pretended to be asleep when she received a text her brother was missing so he didn’t have to help find him. I have nothing to add.

Eric: When asked if he’s a party starter, wingman or the laidback one, said he could be it all, the life of the party. Did not understand the question. When asked if he could live in another time period, said “before money was involved.” Didn’t understand that question either.

Fred: Carlton Banks-looking motherfucker. I so desperately wanted to leave this at that, but this is treasury trove of details. His biggest feat is having his card declined – he is fucking Carlton. For some God-forsaken reason, discussed getting boners at work. I cannot see the gain of revealing this bit of information. Now we’re all thinking of your boner tucked into the waistband of your slacks under your desk and we’re all uncomfortable. Perfect date is Pappadeux, which is a Gulf-regional seafood place. It’s terrible. Get it together Carlton. His favorite artist is Jean Michel Basquiat which, as I’m sure our more astute readers have recalled, is the SAME THING RACHEL SAID LAST YEAR IN HER BIO. Carlton did his homework, because of course he fucking did, because he’s Carlton.

Grant: Looks like Dan from Gossip Girl. Man, what a great show that was. Shit in an open 2-liter bottle in Peru on a tour bus. I bet that story sounded a lot better in your head. His favorite magazine is “Playboy ;)” – very subtle, I’m sure no one picked up on the fact you beat off like a thirteen-year-old in 1984. I originally thought these questions were answered verbally, but the emoji suggests these were written out, which makes it so much worse. These answers were premediated, reviewed, smugly approved of, and then submitted. These people are all terrible.

Iggy: Cross-eyed 5’11’’ Hispanic guy. I’m sure he’ll do well here. Like Carlton, I so wanted to leave my clever remark at that, but this dude also felt the burning urge to write out about getting boners during a presentation. What the hell is with these dudes talking about boners? Again, he wrote that down, thought that was a good answer, and was satisfied with himself to submit this to a national audience. I would say have some dignity, but at least we all know his dick works.

Jack Stone: Okay what the fuck is with the nicknames. His name cannot be Jack Stone. Is it “Jackstone,” but mistyped somewhere in the application process? Did he change his name? I could go one, but one look at his face, and I agree this motherfucker is probably really named Jack Stone, and he is immensely proud of it. He’s the worst. Has a dead mom, which he will undoubtedly try to parlay into sympathy after everyone immediately hates him because his name is JACK FUCKING STONE. I will not be able to get pass the name.

Jamey: When asked who else he would be for a day, he said someone less fortunate to appreciate life more. Jamey seems like he might struggle to empathize with other human beings and a possible murderer. Once got caught masturbating. These dudes are so DAMN PROUD of their dicks. After this, I’m going to write the next great American novel about my dick just to really up the scales.

Jedidiah: Another stupid name. His former dogs were all “over ½ wolf” which makes him tough, you see. This dude is loaded, as he humble brags his way through each question – had sex (again congrats bro) “off the continental divide on a glacier in the mountains,” built his parents a 5,000 foot home in Montana, and, I’m going to post this verbatim because it’s incredible, “South Africa is incredible. Raw and beautiful; great coffee, tea, wine, fruit, food, beautiful animals and landscapes, amazing people and very real problems like HIV and violence.” Just incredible. I am struggling to come up with something witty or clever to add to that, but it’s pretty hilarious on it’s own.

Jonathan: His face is too big, and currently demonstrating what I imagine the recipient of a surprise colonoscopy would look like. Stated occupation: Tickle Monster, actual occupation: hiding from authorities after breaking out of prison for a laundry list of sexual crimes.

Josiah: This guy has a real chance. Prosecuting attorney, his answers are normal, but personal enough to lead to character-building later in the season. I got nothing.

Kenny: Professional wrestler. I so hope he is a luchador with the overdramatic, brightly color masked, and that his entrance involves him introducing himself as Kenny, but you may know him better as… EL JEFFE GIGANTE! AYE DIOS MIA! Watch out for the piledriver Rachel, don’t let him get an armbar on you! Anyway, he likes Denzel Washington and the Rock, because everyone likes them and those are boring opinions.

Kyle: Looks like Grant Hill. Has strong opinions on gluten, but immediately prefaces that statement with not knowing what it is or what it is found in. Ex got him into BDSM, but based on the prior statement, I imagine he has no idea what that is either.

Lee: Looks like the type of person who what say some racist-ass shit, and then explain how it wasn’t racist. Has exceptional reverence for someone (something?) only identified as “Mamaw”, who might be a wily yet feared dinosaur from Land of the Lost.

Lucas: Looks like the gayest Jonas brother. Lists his occupation as “Whaboom.” GET SERIOUS LUCAS THIS IS FOR LOVE GET A REAL JOB. If he could have lunch with one person, he selected dead: Bruce Jenner, alive: Caitlyn Jenner. I choose to believe he just independently looks up to these as two different people and has yet to learn about the switch. Weirdly, this is the second guy to mention how much he doesn’t like the Situation from the Jersey Shore. I imagine he was working on his answers when the Situation was charged with tax fraud a few months ago. Very creative, these fellas! Ideal woman would look like Jessica Rabbit. The gayest Jonas brother and I apparently have the same taste. I don’t know what this says about me.

Matt: Long neck. Likes Justin Timberlake, John Mayer and TRAIN. Now, I’m going to avoid a tangent, because Train is one step from Coldplay. I’m moving on before I flip out. Fuck you Alex AND Matt.

Michael: Like Denzel, because everyone likes Denzel. Otherwise, boring as shit. He’ll go far because YAAAAAAAAAWN.

Milton: MILTON. He is a Hotel Recreation Supervisor, which is intend to interpret as the guy who cleans up sweaty towels at the Red Roof Inn on the side of the highway, yeah that one, you know where it is, where they found that body chopped up in the trunk the one time, yeah it WAS nuts, apparently they never solved it, it is creepy, anyway his name is Milton and who cares about the rest.

Mohit: Ahh the token vaguely Middle Eastern/Indian guy. We could likely figure it out, but he won’t be here long enough to care. The wildest thing he’s done in bed is “Tabasco.” Now, I’m more of a Frank’s Red Hot type of guy, but I have so many questions, but due to the sensitive nature of many of the readers, I will pass. Did he not know about whipped cream or chocolate syrup? Neither of those will burn any open holes (just kidding let’s make it weird).

Peter: Our first “business owner”! Will we ever find out what this business is? Absolutely not! Wants a date to be motherly, which is a fair desire in a mate but does sound really strange when you say aloud to someone you’re trying to fuck. Would want to be a football player because “it seems so easy.” Clearly does not know much about football or CTE.

Rob: Wants to be pursued. This is a great answer for someone about to be one of twenty-five contestants trying to pork one girl. Shows good self-awareness. Shoehorns how he’s a US alien, which seems like a bold thing to proclaim in year one of our Benevolent Leader Trump, but you do you Rob.

Will: Eh boring again. Way to end on a dry note, but also WAY TO END AT ALL this took way too long and I should find a hobby.


Big Buck Hunter Guest Posting

I think it’s time I share my talents with the world: my college roommate and I, many years ago, held the record on the Big Buck Hunter at our local Walmart.  We would frequent the store simply to get Subway sandwiches followed by rounds of Big Buck Hunter near the checkout lines for up for an hour at a time.  Many times, this was after 10pm on weeknights.  Each of us had a record in a certain region of the country that stood for quite some time before Walmart eventually got rid of the machine shortly after our graduation.  If Walmart stole our country’s Rockwellian virginity, it certainly stripped me of my ego.  Anyway, my roommate came across the following article and it’s well worth reading:

If Our Country Can’t Agree On Basic Facts, I Fear My Record-Shattering High Score In ‘Big Buck Hunter’ Will Be Lost In The Murk

I remember when I actually trusted the news. I could turn on any TV news show or open any newspaper and trust that they were all working with the same set of facts. Those days are gone. In our new post-truth world, the very idea of objectivity seems to have vanished, ushering in an era of doubt. It all makes me deeply apprehensive, as I fear that in such uncertain times, my record-shattering high score in Big Buck Hunter will be lost in the murk.

Five years ago, no one would have disputed the facts: I scored 27,600 points. I did it with the gun that had the trigger that sometimes gets stuck. I capped off a perfect round with the biggest caribou I’ve seen on the “Alaska” stage. In short, I put on an absolute master class that night at Rudy’s Tavern, taking down buck after buck as an awestruck crowd of bar-goers gathered round.

What now keeps me up at night is the idea that our faith in media has evaporated to the point that the story of my insane BBH high score is in jeopardy.

In today’s skeptical, cynical landscape, who will carry the torch of truth? Yes, Smitty was there, cheering along with everyone else as I caught fire and racked up thousands of points in critter bonuses, but what if the incessant drumbeat of misinformation causes him to doubt himself? When we keep dismissing everything outside our narrow bubbles as false, when at any minute our president could go on another Twitter rampage, sowing confusion and calling my score into question, what does that mean for my scarcely believable Big Buck Hunter run?

And what of my initials, ROD, enshrined forever on the scoreboard? Do they mean nothing? What’s to stop a guy like Stephen Miller from going on CNN, denouncing my story as “fake news,” and claiming that the initials are wrong and that the high score actually belongs to Tony?

Our country is in a sorry state if people really believe that Tony—a guy who couldn’t shoot three bucks to save his life—has a chance of ever hitting one of those small, quick-moving racoons like I can.

From day one, I have been ruthlessly honest about my 11-stage perfect streak and three consecutive Marksman awards that night. Today, every bit of misinformation diminishes that accomplishment. I fear for my future, and I fear for my legacy. The time for action is now. We must resist.

¡¡¡Happy Cinco De Mayo Veinte Diecisiete!!! (and Arrested Development)

Wishing everyone a warm and fuzzy Cinco De Mayo.

Okay, lot to cover here, so time to play ketchup.   In the spirit of Mexican heritage, I’m throwing up a massive text wall.  Don’t like it?  This posting just got 2 paragraphs longer.  More than once in my life, I’ve been told that from time to time I can be mildly insensitive to other cultures and ways of life.  Bullshit, but okay.  It’s Cinco De Mayo and I’d like to make good on appreciating other cultures, so today’s song of the day is Right Now by Psy (don’t be a dick, give the song a chance, it’s good).  Much better than the golden oldies song that came on this morning where the main course is “baaa ba-ba ba-baaaaa, I knowwww you..” – if this were the Middle East, I’d get stoned if I were caught singing this to my male friends.  They’re a very literal people.

As many of you know, I’m an absolute dios when it comes to Heroes of the Storm (“HOTS” for anyone who can throw a spiral or doesn’t suffer from asthma and backne).  Back in December, before evvvverything changed when Trump was inaugurated, I went into a game as Chogall, stacking party-of-five XP bonuses on top of the holiday XP bonuses, among others.  Had my first and only 500,000+ XP game.  You better fucking believe that print screen found its way onto the watermark on my resume.  Employers dig teamwork, persistence, and originality.  I have yet to get any calls back.  Not unlike:

Anyway, back to snapping the suspenders of the Mexican people.  I recently had a game of HOTS where I was Chogall and working in close tandem with a teammate from Mexico, or Portugal, down old South America way.

Roughly translated, Sabaoth’s first two constructive messages to me are 1) Chogal, fuck you shit, and 2) I give you a whore.  It may sound border-line (ugh) adversarial, but I think we had some good communication that game, a real productive tete-a-tete.  Look a few lines up and you find the most important message.  At all costs.  Protect.  The fucking.  Healing fountain.

I’m getting lazy today and have to get back to work (“They’ve got a bus, and they want to use parking lot to this building as a meeting place.  I mean, for God’s sake, it’s not a hardware store.  We can’t have them hanging around like a bunch of freeloaders looking for an easy buck.” – Lucille Bluth).  Spent too long on my last two posts: to quote a buddy, “your latest blog has so much packed in there you’d think it was Bruce Jenner post-op.”  Biting social commentary…even in its brevity, and like the woman, it still has a lot of meat on it.

Here are my relevant Arrested Development photos for Cinco:

Two tips of the day.  1) Raspberries and diet coke: best combination you’ve ever had.  Pop a few raspberries in your mouth and take a swig of the diet coke – it’s AMAZING.  2) People like Nutella on toast (although my readership seems to be white bread).  Put 2-3 Reese’s peanut butter eggs on a toasted bagel and make a sandwich of it, it’s INCREDIBLE.  Bonus recommendation from my cigarette-smoking-man/friend: chew on Icebreakers mints while smoking cigarettes – better tasting than menthol cigarettes.  I must admit that I’ve had my share of cigarettes in my day, but after watching Hans Landa in the following, I’m never putting another wimpy-ass f*g in my mouth again:

Alright, time for me to get back to HOTS before this American Health Care Act beats a path through the senate floor.  My go-to character, Chogall, has a bit of a limp and I’m worried about playing him with his preexisting condition.

Risk: The Game Of Global Domination / Song of the Day (5/4/2017)

According to Wikipedia, Risk is a strategy board game of diplomacy, conflict, and conquest for 2 to 6 players.  The standard version is played on a board depicting a political map of the Earth, divided into 42 territories (let’s call these “American Territories To-be”), which are grouped into 6 continents.  Turn rotates among players who control armies of playing pieces with which (EXCELLENT grammar, Wikipedia) they attempt to capture territories from other players, with results determined by dice rolls (concept originated in North America following African expansion into U.S. territories).  Players may (and do) form and dissolve alliances during the course of the game.  The goal of the game is to occupy (and Americanize/Reaganize) every territory on the board and in doing so, eliminate the other players.

Let me hit you with the Song of the Day so you can follow along as I walk you through the game of Risk and how to bring democracy and civilized culture to the far corners of the world.  Today’s song of the day is Primo Victoria by Sabaton.  I recommend you watch at least parts of the music video once prior to continuing on.  So sit down, buckle up, and prepare to deliver liberty and justice on the back of Hellfire missiles to all.

Let me begin with the admission that I’ve never been a huge fan of Risk – as my reader(s yet?) knows, my attention span is microscopically short.  It’s what makes me such a pain in the ass to sit next to in quarterly board meetings.  If you ever get the chance, don’t sit next to me.  I’ve played the game maybe twice in my life, 12-14 years ago.  However, when a friend (and often thinly-veiled Risk ally) mentioned that Risk was available on Xbox back in January, I jumped on it like Trump on a ham wallet.  So, I gave the game another shot.  And HOLY FUCK was it fun.  Since then, I’ve played about 10 games of Risk and as I sit hunched over my computer before you today, I’ve CONQUERED 8 of those games.  How do I do it?  This may be a long post, so without giving you a Bush-style timeline, let’s find out:

  1. The game begins with the daft people of Microsoft (see: Windows 8, Halo MCC roll-out, Internet Explorer, Microsoft Edge, Bill Gates’ haircut) auto-selecting territories.  Also, set the game so you can move your armies across all contiguous territories, not just one territory at a time.  Germany conquered Poland in 3 days; that was 70 years ago.  We’re America in 2017, Mexico could be New-New Mexico by the end of Cinco De Mayo, tomorrow.  Your forces will be scattered throughout the map.  That’s fine.  Within the first few roles, the computer (or online competitor) will inevitably go for Australia.  Let them have it, they can sit there sucking on their two points all day long.  We don’t care.
  2. Upon your first role and turn, IMMEDIATELY START MOVING TROOPS TO NORTH AMERICA.  North America has INCREDIBLE natural boundaries – only 3 points of contact and it’s worth 5 points.  It’ll take you many, many turns to take North America so form an alliance with someone in Europe and South America and let it be CRYSTAL FUCKING CLEAR that North America is yours and you’re not afraid to use the nuclear option on anyone who gets in your way.  Let one, or preferably two individuals take South America so they can fight among each other and deplete their resources.  South America is good at that.  If you can covertly plant the seeds of hyperinflation in South America, that’s good too.  Continue taking one territory on each turn to build up cards.  Obviously, focus on territories where you have a 3 vs. 1 option.  Look at that, math is relevant again.
  3. Take North America.  By all means necessary, for the love of Reagan, take North America.  You’re now getting 5 points each turn.  Europe is worth 5, but it’s borders are impossible to defend.  Asia is worth 7 points but you wun into the same issue, it’s too difficult to defend and the guy sitting in Australia will constantly be in your ass taking a territory with each turn.
  4. Congratulations!  You’ve taken North America and are now the most powerful force on the map.  But there’s no time for dilly dally.  IMMEDIATELY institute the Monroe Doctrine.  According to Wikipedia, “The Monroe Doctrine was a U.S. policy of opposing European colonialism in the Americas beginning in 1823.  It stated that further efforts by European (or global, in our case) nations to take control of any independent state in North or South America would be viewed as ‘the manifestation of an unfriendly disposition toward the United States.'”  That’s fair, but COMPLETELY disregard the second part of the doctrine: “At the same time, the doctrine noted that the U.S. would recognize and not interfere with existing European colonies nor meddle in the internal concerns of European countries.”  This part does not apply to you because A) you’re North America and B) you said this does not apply to you.
  5. You’ve got North America tied down.  Wait a couple of turns (consider throwing down your cards) and communicate to your ally in South America (or to the two duking it out down there) that South America is now formally annexed property and it’s time for them to flee to Africa.  Then?  CRY HAVOC AND LET SLIP THE DOGS OF WAR.  Within the cozy of confines of your previously announced (read: implemented) Monroe Doctrine, send every infantryman, cavalry, tank, drone, blackhawk, F-22, X-35, destroyer, nuclear sub, aircraft carrier, and B-2 bomber into South America.  Straight through the belly of the beast.  While maintaining units in Eastern Russia (not Alaska, but blocking Alaska) and Iceland, park your forces in Brazil along the border with Africa.  You’re now earning 7 points a turn with only 3 touch points, and access to multiple territories such that you can now take a single territory with each turn, earning another card.
  6. Tell everyone on the map that you’re pragmatic and happy to make deals.  Make a deal with Africa.  Then after a few turns, decide that you don’t make deals, throw down your cards, and enter Africa with the force of a 1,000 hydrogen bombs.  You’re now heavily exposed to Europe and Asia but by this time, other players will have been weakened from within morally, spiritually, and economically.  The timing of this final push is extremely important.  Hopefully you’ve killed off ~2 players through these campaigns and have taken their cards prior to them throwing down.  Throw down your cards again, and take Europe.  Marching to Australia spreads you too thin unless you’re closing in from both Eastern Russia and Africa.  From there, to paraphrase Cosmo Kramer, this table is yours.

And that’s it!  There’s 2-3 hours definitely not wasted.  You’ve conquered the world and brought American values/food to the far reaches.  Bring with you this image so people understand what we’re all about:

Speaking of wasted time, I’ve been sitting in a restaurant eating Freedom Fries while the mechanics are working on my car next door.  Needed a new Control Arm and Ball Joint on my ride.  Expensive fix, but I go home with a new appreciation for arm jobs and BJs.  Currently sitting across from a cute couple and their larger friend.  Always frustrating when you see a couple out having fun but stuck hanging out with a third tire.

Finally, came across the following water towers which reminded me of Frank Drebin (Leslie Nielsen) in Naked Gun.

One final thought: rather than the electoral process in the U.S., why don’t we simply let our politicians play Risk to determine the most eligible candidate to run our country?  Reagan be with you.