Welcome to America. It smells of donuts.
After a typically festive meal of Microwaved Pizza courtesy of American Airlines, I find myself in Miami Airport with eight hours to kill. After willfully wasting some time by deliberately filling in the wrong immigration form, knowing full-well I’d be sent to the back of the queue to start again, I’ve enjoyed the native version of haute cuisine, a cinabon (kind of an outsize Danish pastry covered in a litre of vanilla custard) and a caramel latte with whipped cream and toffee sauce. I’ve now settled in for the duration with a copy of the Miami Herald (lead story: Santa addresses the troops) with a much better understanding of why America has such a problem with obesity.
Strangely, I can’t view the blogjam homepage as it has not passed the local ISP?s “content filter”. As I said, wecome to America.