President Me by Adam Carolla Read Free Book Online Page A

for me; it’s not salad, it’s just a way to feel good about eating mayonnaise and corn syrup. Coleslaw wasn’t broken, stop trying to fix it.
    And enough with the cold butter and chilled silverware. This is not a luxury. Think about everything that is luxurious—heated car seats, mink coats, massages—all warm. Warm is a luxury, not cold. So why are you giving me frozen butter that is harder to spread than the gospel at an al-Qaeda training camp and an ice-cold knife to do it with? Are we not aware that attempting to spread butter at anything below room temperature tears up the bread? You end up with a crust corral enclosing a golf ball of bread with a frozen butter center.
    Just like the theme hotels, I don’t need the theme restaurant. Your only theme should be good steak.
    The prime example of this is Medieval Times. This is a nerd version of Benihana. You have to sit with strangers and eat mediocre food while watching wannabe actors pretend to be Knights of the Round Table. I don’t know anyone who thinks, “The prime rib at Arnie Morton’s is great, but there’s just not enough tournament. I’m heading to Medieval Times.”
    And if you do have a theme restaurant, I don’t need the cutesy bathroom door signs. Is anyone frequenting your establishment even though you have shitty food and terrible service because of your hilarious bathroom door signs? You’re not seeing too many Yelp reviews reading, “The food sucked and the waitress was a cunt but the bathroom doors said ‘T-Birds’ and ‘Pink Ladies.’ Terrific.” The food-service industry is full of government codes, so in my administration, we’ll be adding one more. Just put MEN and WOMEN on the bathroom signs. I don’t need the signs that say CABALLEROS and SEÑORAS at the Mexican joint or a picture of a mustache or a lipstick kiss mark at a trendy place. Don’t get clever or abstract. This is a lawsuit waiting to happen. One day I’m gonna have a couple glasses of wine and bust into the ladies’ room and have to shout, “Sorry, I had to piss and I didn’t know if I was a Doe or a Buck.”
    TATTOO SHOPS
    One American business that is doing just fine is the tattoo industry. This is boom times for them. In the fifties it was just merchant marines and a few actual marines getting anchors or hearts with “Mom” in them on their upper arm. Now chicks and black guys are getting them in droves. There’s no way this could have been predicted when Eisenhower was president. Imagine a black guy going into a tattoo shop right after WWII. Depending on which part of the country he did this in, he might not have come out alive. Now you can’t be in the NFL without an illegible tattoo on your arm, or, in some cases, face. And chicks getting tattoos? Forget it. They would have been declared hysterical and put into an asylum back in the good old days. I think this started in the seventies, but really broke in the eighties with punk and the nineties with grunge, and now it’s game on. There’s no way that Marilyn Monroe would have gotten a tattoo. She was the Pam Anderson of her day. Can you imagine Pam Anderson without a tattoo?
    But the reason I want to get the government involved in this issue is that I don’t think it’s a great sign for our future. There are more people under thirty who have tattoos than ones who don’t. This makes me shudder. It shows that the next generation has no plans for the future. If you put the barbed-wire tramp stamp on your lower back, you’re living for now, as the Pepsi ad commands. You’re not thinking about how the tattoo is going to look at forty-five when you’re bending over pulling your brood out of the minivan. This “fuck the future” attitude is the cause of many of our nation’s biggest problems. Everyone lives their life like a meteor is going to hit the planet next