“A cap is worth a thousand words.” Or, “How to spot a North American resident of the United States of American.”

By Asi Gal

Ok, I want to talk about America. One of my best friends, roommate of nearly two years and heterosexual, male soul mate is an American living in Israel. (I'm sure most of you know who he is). On occasion, he has the tendency to yearn for American items - including American women, who swallow, according to him. (On the other hand they also believe in Jesus as their savior, which just goes to show that you’ve got to take the good along with the bad). Being that he is an American makes it difficult for me to refer to him as a soul mate of any sort seeing how he's an idiot.

Americans are pretty dumb - that's the whole truth in a nutshell. They’re funny but they’re dumb. Of course, us Israelis are much smarter since we can all drive tanks and wear ribbons of different colors to express our range of political opinions: orange - you're a crazy fascist, blue - that you're ravishingly gay and red - that you are polite on the road. Yeah, no one wears the red one. Usually, people that try to hand out the red one also wear blue; and, we know what they are.

But I am not trying to look down on Americans. God knows I wish to be in the States and have as many Twinkies as I can eat during a spell of the munchies. The only reason I feel obliged to put Americans down is because of their numerous columns about Israel and Israelis. True that those columns are usually on websites which only dorks read, but seeing how all those dorks are Americans the vicious circle continues and it's about to devour all the Krembo (the Israeli Ding Dong or Trip Top or Munushy or what ever dumb name they’ve got there for a cookie topped with whipped cream then covered with chocolate. You see: krem=cream, bo=inside it. All together that equals Krembo. Hebrew food is logical. I doubt that the dogs of the devil are soft, fluffy and filled with cream).

First of all Americans, where do you come from? Your answer is probably, "from America. I'm an American". Yeah? Are you from Panama? Cause that's America too. And Canada? They're even bigger than you are! Sure they're as funny as the stick you have left after finishing your Popsicle. But, hey, at least they're not pretentious.

Second, in case anyone's wondering, here's how you can spot Americans. Ask them to call you later on. When they do, if they say, "Hi it's Ami Riller", you know it's an American. Why do I need your last name? Do we need to be formal when you just want to know how much I am selling my Subaru for? (Subaru: a sensible, Japanese car. Americans should know that there are other cars in the world besides cars that could fit a hearse inside them. Yes, being an Israeli, I still believe that all Americans drive Cadillacs (Escalades, from what I’ve seen on the television), money rolls on the ground and people won't even move you to the sidewalk if you die in the middle of the street. At most they'll poke you with a stick emblazoned with a Nike logo).

Another way to spot an American is that they wear baseball caps. I have absolutely no idea why. You're inside the house. It's not even sunny. Your hair…well, it does have the shape of a dying turtle, but that's only because of the stupid cap. My only guess is that it's meant to cover your brain from cooling off too much so that the next time someone asks you where you're from you won't answer, “I live above Mexico. I am an under-Canadian.”

And finally, the food. My roommate who writes a blog and likes saying fuck a lot (Sometimes in the most erroneous of places, "Man I just saw your grandma. Man, is she a fuckin' grandma!" Although true, grossly inappropriate. Sometimes, he just uses fuck instead of words, "I am so hungry I could fuckin'!" but he does make a mean Matzo ball, so all is forgiven.) wrote about the chemicals of the beloved Israeli drink- Petel. A colory drink. We all get hooked on it around kindergarten. I once sucked a weewee for Petel - but that's irrelevant (best Petel I ever had).

As a response, I thought of writing about American food. But I just couldn't come up with anything which would be completely appropriate so here's something instead: Pop Tarts, Lucky Charms, Devil Dogs, Twinkies, Caramellos, E.L. Fudge, Doritos (Cool Ranch and all others), Kool Aid, Twizzlers and the list goes on. It's all crap. Delicious, delicious McCrap. It's like there was a war and chemicals had to find a place to rendezvous, so they took refuge in a 7-11 inside the food. The slogan for all American food should be, "You can taste the lack of quality" (but you'll gulp it down. You cap wearing morons).

I'm just happy the north won. At least eating Aunt Jemima’s pancakes isn't racist. And if the Negros say it is, learn from us. Run them over with a tank.

Asi is a nerd. He grew up, lives, works and studies in the greater Tel Aviv area. Most recently he has started his third BA, this one in social work. The first, which he did not complete was in biology; the second, which he did finish, was in history and English literature. When he grows up, Asi is very much looking forward to being an MA student. God speed little doodle.