Not Your Everyday Rant About Getting Lays
Please give me the strength not to order an air strike against the United Kingdom. Yes, my new home is beautiful, the people are wonderful, the culinary delights have been numerous and the alcohol is plentiful. Big freakin’ deal. How important are those things really in the long run?
In the course of my hard-hitting journalistic investigations of Somerset over the course of the last 36 days, I have uncovered some startling facts that have been kept out of the public’s eye for too long. People need to know what happens here. People have a right to know.
First of all, British homes are being poisoned with something called Embarrassing Bodies. It is a ‘show’ for ‘entertainment’ on Channel 4. I had been in the country for less than 24 hours when I was first subjected to this horror. The episode on that night dealt with the question of “How Much is Too Much?!” with regard to… I almost hate to say it, but..pubic hair. (Oh, I know, Microsoft Word – I want that word to be ‘public’ too.) This was the night I learned that British television is VERY DIFFERENT from American television.
(Quick note: Even the webpage for Embarrassing Bodies has an explicit content warning at the top of the page. Yes, it’s all in a medical context, but still possibly not safe for work.)
Not only did we see a variety of grasslands, jungles and plains that night, but we were also treated to a series of truly mind-blighting videos of how down-there hair can go wrong. Very, very wrong. Infections, pustules, STDs and how they affect the shorthairs – all on display on a flat-screen TV the size of a billboard. I was alone in the house with my mother-in-law-to-be that night, and I was hyper-aware that my reactions to such things might very well reveal the kind of person I am. (It was a test; I know it was a test. “Let’s make the American girl watch really gross TV and see how she reacts!”) I think I was lucky enough to gasp out something like “Ohmygod…gross,” once. Fail.
Second, and most importantly, is my concern over the lack of quality salty snacks here. I cannot emphasize enough how serious the dearth is. Sugary sweets don’t really do anything for me; give me the salty chips any day. Cheetos, Lays, Doritos, Funyuns, how I miss thee! To be fair, we can get Doritos here. In ‘vinegar’ and ‘plain with salt’ flavors. What the hell?! EVERYONE KNOWS that the ‘plain’ flavor of Doritos is Nacho Cheese! And vinegar? That’s what I use to clean out my coffee pot. I don’t want Windex-flavored chips either, thank you very much, Your Majesty. And the bags of what we can get are insultingly small. The American-sized versions allow for both emergency chip-orgies or the 4-day ration plan. (I’m a fan of the rationing myself. I pet the bag over the course of a weekend and sometimes refer to it as My Precioussss. That’s perfectly normal back in the US.)
I really want a good, big bag of chips. If I could just have that, I could live through all the rest of it just fine. Even Embarrassing Bodies. Which is good, because the next episode is about the causes of vulval pain and a man who lactates.