And there I felt a sense of elation. Seeing it for the first time. A sense of interest. Soft spoken, somewhat political. Funded by interest. The likes and dislikes of what lures the climate of smile. It felt surreal.
A breath of fresh air. A simple reminder of the smallest thing. Not once did it feel that it was too much. Not once did it feel that it was vain. Off beat.
Watching episode after episode, Subtle unsubtle laughs.
The gist of different references. Spontaneous in the avenue of conversation. I drove to get a second look. Then once more around. The freedom of advertisement. Officially elected in detailed statement. A festival of sorts. I would turn the corner and see all of my favorite characters represented by my most favorite character.
To compliment surprise her cheeks rose like a billboard. If marketing research counts, I was instantly sold. Finding she was a avid merchant. Her infinite knowledge for detail. The gap bridged between listening and speaking. A new experience to a different sector of my brain. The rescue of a struggling smile. A festival of bright smiles and laughs. Corners of strong jawline and spontaneous conversation. It was incredible.
Catching the most important reference, My favorite character in life. Wearing a Bob's Burger t-shirt Granting smile in a instant
The new Genre Tourist Punk is sailing the nation. Hawaiian shirts and white keds are lining up all around Orlando to see up and thrifting bands like Lobster trap, Lighthouse tour and Dogs welcome.
Founded in a Starbucks by Toni and Dash, two MECA grads one student loan away from selling out and getting involved in the lighthouse painting business, The Band: Lobster Trap gave birth to a whole new genre. TOURIST PUNK Toni and Dash decided they needed to provide music that was expensive. niche. Something unspeakably mundane.
With smash hits like "This traffic is *******" And "My name still isn't Joe". Lobster Trap is flying up the American top 40 faster than you can say socks and sandals
Sales of "I HEART LOCATION" merch has skyrocketed with every launched tour. Crowds of L.L. bean boots and visors are Moshing, breaking poloroid cameras over each others heads in a salmon rage.
old school punk fanatics were skeptical at middle aged middle class suits getting into their scene. until it hit them that they could now throw punches at every pedestrian who ever cut them off.
"Hi thirsty, I'm Dad." By Land of the Polite Has been played more times in the last year then any taylor swift song.
Money once invested in college-bound middle class vacationlander spawn is being wisely spend on bands like "discount Polo", and "Local Diner"
So listeners. if you spend an obscene amount of money on travel fair, and over priced, cheaply made souvenirs; Or Work in customer service thriving to see those leaf peepers choked out by their own ***** packs. Do yourself a favor. road trip into your local bullmoose sporting your states name on your chest. And Treat yourself to an exclusive new album of TOURIST PUNK.
Multiple beautiful faces, immaculate complexions, and precise, practiced grins. It's easy to understand why it makes me thirsty; they invented bottled bliss, eagerly and professionally selling: beauty, happiness, companionship--- all for the price of $1.50 with tax at the cost of only my dignity. Affordability and availability, it's no wonder it's high in demand. The American success story: to sell simple desires to the lazy, naïve man, who believes he can't obtain them otherwise.