For those who are not aware, myself and Mrs Addman have been on holiday to Florida. Although I've been before, it was Mrs Addman's first visit, and it was an absolute delight to see her experience it for the first time. Admittedly, a lot had changed since the last time I was there, so there were many rides and attractions that I got to experience for the first time too. All in all, a great time was had by all.
When you're a Brit in America, you tend to stand out like a sore thumb. People overhear you talking and automatically identify you as a Brit without hesitation. Being the friendly, approachable people that we are, some amiable Americans came over to us to ask about Britain. Their questions fell into two main categories:
1: Did you go to London for the Olympics?
2: Did you go to London for the Jubilee?
When we answered "No" to both of these questions, many people looked at us dejectedly. They seemed especially disappointed when I referred to the Queen as an "unelected archaic parasite", but that's an argument for another time. Admittedly, it was nice not to be asked the usual question I get when I've visited the US in the past:
"Do you know the Queen?"
Why yes, I pop round every Sunday afternoon for tea and scones. Then we commence our ritualistic beating of the Corgis with a rolled up copy of the Financial Times.
Anyway, I'm afraid to say that when we weren't in the parks, or stuffing our faces in one of the many all you can eat buffets that Kissimmee provides, I found myself drawn to American TV. In particular, I found myself compelled by a show called Dog The Bounty Hunter.
|The criminals are on the ru-un|
A show like this just wouldn't exist in Britain, which is probably why I found myself glued to it. In it, a man who calls himself "Dog" (who resembles a cross between Hulk Hogan and a tribal chieftain) gathers his family together to hunt down fugitives. They sit down and discuss the criminal's rap sheet, then they jump into their cars and try and capture them. Baring in mind that the criminals are usually drug dealers, the tension mounts as they surround the subject's house and start pressing their neighbours and family for information. One particular episode I watched included a drug baron who rigged his house with traps such as tear gas sprays, which got one of Dog's sons straight in the face.
One member of the crew who stands out is Dog's wife Beth. I couldn't comprehend whether she was glamorous or rather fat. I had to coin the word "Flamorous" just to describe her. She usually wears short skirts, nail extensions that the Egyptians would have used for scraping out brains, and bore tits that stuck out like frozen tumours. Regardless of her appearance, she proved herself a reliable member of the team. Her and Dog's heart-to-heart talks with the captured criminals gave the show a rather endearing ending, even when all that praying got on my nerves.
When the tropical storm let up (it only lasted like half a day in all honesty) and we could go outside, the holiday began in earnest. We did all the Disney parks, Universal and Sea World. Highlights include the dolphin swim at Discovery Cove (and before Pickleope asks, I was not raped by a porpoise. I didn't accept any strange pills from any dolphins, and always had someone watching my drink), and also listening to Insane In The Brain on the Rip Ride Rockit, a roller coaster which lets you choose your own music.
Anyway, I'd just like to say that all the Americans we encountered were polite, friendly, and most importantly, happy. You'd have to travel a thousand miles to find a happy person round here, which was a rather refreshing change. I would also like to thank you guys for introducing me to Philly Cheesesteak and BBQ Pulled Pork. I thank you from the bottom of my arteries.
|I don't like Harry Potter, but I do like Butterbeer.|