But I can't be bothered to write a good introduction to this blog. What does it matter anyway anyway you people only read this hoping I'll make a spleling mistake so you can point it out on the comments and feel smart. So just imagine the three-hundred word description of the fact that I went on a rowing trip to America, got searched a million times, managed to piss off the VISA inspector man and got my name typed into a computer, did some rowing, toured the USA and came home again. Now I'll get to the meat of the post.
I just don't know how American people do it. I just don't. I don't know how they can manage to all stay so happy and jolly and generally legendish when they live in that country. In the whole two-week trip I came into contact with millions of Americans and they were all jolly and smiling and generous. For example my chum Fudge (so called because his second name is Packer, natch), tried to buy something at a shop. He HAD the money and was getting out of his pocket, when the dear old cashier said "Don't worry son" or something and pressed a button on his till. A LITTLE DRAWER POPPED OUT OF THE DESK AND MONEY CAME OUT WHICH THE CASHIER GAVE TO FUDGE TO PAY FOR HIS SWEETS. I mean dude wtf. We all just gazed at the cashier and our faces were like :o. And he gazed back and gave a little wink. I felt like crying "Jeepers!". But I didn't. That's just an example of the level of safeness that we're dealing with here; Back in England the cashier would probably wink at you but then you realise that it's just her miserable NHS-prescription glass eye collapsing under the weight of the misery of her pathetic minimum wage rainy-day existence. Sheesh.
I would say that in the entire week, I came into contact with, like, 30 safe Americans and about four twattish ones. But fair do's I guess; all bar one of the twattish ones were shopkeepers who were unamused when we asked how much of their stuff was for free. The other twat was a rower who tried to punch our coxswain. This was while they were both sitting in different boats. Following our mid-race crash in which both of our boats had stopped dead and our stroke man had punched the aforementioned rower in the face with his oar. So yeah I guess perhaps the twattishness was warranted.
Wait, that means that there were literally ZERO non-nice Americans in the entire of the USA!!!!!!!!!!!!! Well, the bits I saw - Boston, Philly and EN-WHYYY. Which surprises me hardcore because, in my opinon, America is literally the most polluted country EVAR. Now I don't mean environmentally polluted - although seriously guys not every single one of you needs a 4x4 you LIVE IN NEW ENGLAND NOT THE MOON - I'm talking more on a moral, cultural and ethical basis.
I just don't understand how they can stay so CHIPPER when they live in such a cultural wasteland. I'm sorry but America has no culture whatsoever. Unless 'The American Flag' is a culture. Because they sure like their American flags. An awful lot. I wouldn't be surprised if all of America had sex with their flags just before they go to bed at night. Either that or the flags are actually sentient beings who are slowly invading the world, starting at the major superpower. Perhaps they sprount from the ground. No shit; we were driving along and I saw this flowerbed. Except it wasn't planted with flowers. Oh no. Oh NOOOOO. It was planted with - get this - GET THIS - YOU'LL NEVER GUESS WHAT - American flags!!!!! No shit. Just a flowerbed filled with minature American flags. I saw this and buried my head in my hands. When I unearthed it I was just in time to see the petrol station with literally twenty mini-flags mounted on the top. I mean shit, why go for one BIG flag when you can really break the bank and wang out LOTS OF LITTLE ONES? I can picture it now in my brain. Actually, shit, no I can't. I think I've forgotten what the American flag looks like now without my minutely reminder. Oh wait there's one:
Wicked. But seriously I mean, ok, we get it lads, you are a country with a flag now for the love of GOD please stop reminding yourselves. Seriously, what would England be like if everyone stuck
Union Jacks up wherever they wanted? I'll tell you what it'd be IT WOULD BE A HELL. We English are plenty patriotic enough anyway we don't need a (to be honest, pretty goofy-looking) piece of cloth to remind us that we have been chosen to live on some big rock in the middle of the sea. I mean, check out our football (sorry, 'soccer') hooligans! We totally reamed those Spanish Resteraunt Owners during Euro 2000! Go England! Throwing plastic chairs at Germans and breaking windows; that is my idea of real patriotism - not some dumb flag which is just another example of the quasi-patriotism in the fake shell of the American ideal in what is essentially a total quasi-shell of a quasi-country. I don't even know what the last sentence meant but boy it did sound deep and prophetic, didn't it? I believe I'll leave it as is and if anybody asks me what it means I will just nod wisely and stroke my beard. My beard is blonde and like two milimetres long. I am going to let it grow and see if I end up looking like a Man. But I digress. I think I could probably sum up the
previous few paragraphs in fourteen words: America is totally phony. That's only like four words. Ok, NOW it's fourteen.
I'm pretty sure that I didn't see one authentic shop in the entire fucking country. The small shops all had weird exotic names that implied that the owners were Native Americans, Martians, or Irish (no shit I saw a pub called Finnigan's Wake... with a leprechaun painted on the door!). Although, I was amused by the "Wok King" diner placed directly next to "Dairy Queen". THEY COULD GET MARRIED. I see the humour in everyday situations. I am a true comic.
In the meanwhile, the big shops either had names like "Mom & Pop's Cornershop" (not owned by anyone's MUM or DAD) "The General Store" (not true you could not buy generals there), "The Village Bakery" (I don't know what sort of bakeries you have in your village but I have yet to see a bakery that is like four stories tall) or "The Fishing Shack" (not a shack). They were all TOTALLY FAKE I actually felt my soul being sucked out from under my feet at the sight of the Store Associates cheerily handing out Free-Samples-Of-Lite-Non-Trans-Fat-Liteweight-Turkey-American-Cheez-Wotsit-Slice-Bites-Plastik while waving the American flag and listening to The Star Spangled Banner muzak being piped through the intercom at a low-level drone.
At least back in England they give their stores depressing names and get on with it. You go to Budgens, you know you're not in for fun. But you go into BEST BUY, there's an implication that you might just have the best buying experience of your entire life!! Not true. They didn't even have Bonkers 11: Forevolution in the CD place. NO BONKERS.
So in conclusion, Budgens = British Sense of Acceptance of Place and the Essential Misery of Life.
Best Buy = American Fake Piped Optimism In A Jar.
I mean, seriously, would you be able to trust a country that produced THIS as a serious NON-IRONIC piece of art?
Ok I can't be bothered to write any more that's it for part 1 of the Ameriblog. In the next installment, I'll probably discuss how shit America is some more, featuring a hockey match, a terminally ill young boy, America's complete lack of grasp of the concept of irony, and my face going like :o. Hope to see you there!!!!!!!!!
OH FUCK THE FLAGS ARE ATTACKING
we will exterminate you
all hail bezalaroth, king of the flag people
noooooooooo
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