Would you believe it, we're going to talk about our travels again this week.
It shall be short and sweet, and then we'll get down to the real reason for this psychotic blog post (trust me, you'll run for the Advil once you've had your brain twisted round your thinkhatch like it took a fanciful horror-holiday at Quasimodo's pretzel factory).
We went down to Austin, played around on Congress (I believe they're trying to brand that area as SoCo), and then back to San Antonio for a little jolly.
Here was the view from our Austin room...
...and another view (it was a hell of a room)...
We made it to British Sensations (one of my favorite little British brick-a-brack shops) in San Antonio...
...though we didn't buy this at British Sensations, it may or may not have come home with us...
And, in general, had oodles of fun down in the Hill Country...
There, now didn't I say it would be short and sweet?
That being said, we're going to talk about the British.
Are you surprised?
Maybe you've noticed, and maybe you haven't (but you probably have) that I kinda sorta have a tendency to maybe like stuff from our British friends, peradventure (but yes, actually).
Please, do not be ashamed of me, Reginald Kitty.
Hell, recently I was asked to write a few paragraphs for one of my classes about my personal culture differing from "The Norm" (whoever this Norm guy is, he's a right bastard). It went a little something like this :
The older I have gotten, the more I have felt a bit out of touch with my own culture. Though American history and our nation's past trends greatly intrigues me (I study both topics for pleasure in my free time), modern America leaves me rather nonplussed.
Since I was very small, I have had a fascination with the British Isles. The music, the scenery, differences and similarities between the US and UK, and the culture in general; if it's from the UK, I am more willing to try it, or pay attention to it. It isn't that I totally disregard contemporary American culture - I do live here, after all, so I have a little bit of a clue - I've just found that my preferences are more in line with the British (except politics, of course; monarchy seems rather archaic to me).
The American music scene holds little fascination for me, but I'm quite excited about a couple of bands out of Britain right now; even music as far back as the '60s British Invasion are all frequently played on my iPod.
I don't really have an American sense of humor, but I know exactly which writers of British and Irish comedy I like. Even something as simple as our fashion trends seem a little off to me, as I tend to follow the British mod scene.
My family thinks I'm absolutely nuts, and maybe they're right; I prefer to think I'm secure in my own skin, regardless of whether it makes me crackers or not. I may not be "normal", but I'm rather happy with myself the way I am.
In the two week span that folks could respond to this dismal answer, the only kid ballsy enough to reply simply said, and I quote, "Sounds like you were born in the wrong country :)". So, not only have I admitted I have a problem, I have solidified my place as the class nutter (but I like being the class nutter... people leave you alone if you're the class nutter). Yet, somehow, I still got 100% for that rubbish. There really must be one born every minute.
This little exercise really got me to thinking, though. I import everything. Everything.
I import my talk shows...
I import my stand up...
I import my radio...
I import my game shows...
I import my cheese-tastic mini series marathons...
I don't think I watched the same Flambards as these people, 'cause they've got it wrong.
I even prefer their QVC...
The American movies I like? Written by foreigners...
I can count on Nick Hornby for a good screenplay adaptation.
I import my old music...
...and the new music...
The other day, I was giving my mother directions, and I actually told her "to the left, chugga chugga". I don't think she got it.
So, when I saw this ad in the Union Jack newspaper I got at British Sensations...
...and realized I could import chaps, as well, I just knew I had to look these folks up.
That's right, that website actually exists.
So, really, I didn't have to defend the British male... there's already a fanbase!
I particularly liked this quote from their website: "Find your very own David Beckham, Hugh Grant, Orlando Bloom, Jude Law, Sean Connery, Prince Harry, the list goes on."
When I showed my mother, she asked why they didn't say you could find your own Paul McCartney.
I told her it would be false advertising.
You know, they say girls lose interest in math and science by sixth grade. That's because he's not teaching it.
Speaking of my musical imports, here's a sneak peek of what we'll be talking about within the next week or two (hopefully, anyway)...
Well, you know what I've always said... Britannia rules the airwaves!
(Surely you saw that one from a mile off.)
Ricky The K's Solid Gold Time Machine
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