Flu South for the winter

So I'm on the arse end of the flu and finally feeling better. Only 3 more days of amoxicillin to digest then it's back to normal life, at least for a week, on March 5th we are off to Florida for a week of sunshine and detox.

I have never been in FL before so I might be jumping the gun here here but I am looking forward to the sunshine - I am not looking forward to meeting the natives. I have nightmares of fat white people in spandex pants (that doesn't qute hold in their flabby arses) and Mickey Mouse t-shirts, armed with McDonald's Happy meals and screaming snotty-nosed obese children, riding shotgun in their SUV's to the Tabernacle of All-Consuming Fire or maybe Hooters for a bible class. I am obviously exaggerating here but unfortunately everyone I tell this nightmare to says it's not too far from the truth!

When people in Scotland ask me "What's it like living in America?", I have a standard reply that goes something like this: "I have no idea what living in America's like, I live in New York City!" I have encounted the Jerry Springer America once in my life, on a trip to the casinos of Atlantic City, and that was enough.

So I expect to be spending my week in FL hiding in my In-laws house listening to John Prine and reading Hunter S.Thompson books trying to remind myself that not all Americans are mad.

On the subject of Hunter, I read that he took his life because it wasn't fun anymore, wow! I've always believed that suicide is a selfish act but this guy was so caught up in his live fast, die young persona that he couldn't see any other way out. I keep thinking of the old Pete Townsend line "I hope I die before I get old". Pete, as we all know, is still here. Shite, but still here.