I'm not in my country -- my country is New Jersey (the state that everyone likes to make unflattering movies about) -- so, I think it is understandable that every couple weeks I put on my finest hawaiian shirt and fanny pack and blantantly go to the most touristed parts of town to act like a complete American prick. It is my right to do so, as I am burning through my (comparatively worthless) American money at an astonishing rate, and placing all of that money in small unmarked bills, in the briefcase of this foreign economy.

Anyway, this weekend I took a trip up to St. Andrews to see golf. I learned that golf is the same there as it is in the States -- boring. I also learned that St. Andrews, Scotland has some of the world's best ever™ Potato Skins. This is my solemn vow, if you go to St. Andrews, have the potato skins, and you won't be disappointed. That is, unless you are allergic to potatoes or something, in which case, you're really in the wrong country.

After that trip, where we stared at the 18th hole for hours, wondering, "gee, is that it? Cool... so now what?" We rested up for the next day, where we went on a tour of the Scottish Parliament.

Now, if you aren't up on the whole Scottish Political scene (and you should be, because its covered on CNN every night), I'll give you the background: Scotland entered into a parliamentary union with England in 1707. Since 1707, the Scottish people have been busy coming up with various reasons why they hate England, and rooting against its soccer team every chance they get. Anyway, eventually, after realizing that the Scots were regularly coming down to London to try and piss in the water supply, the Parliament came up with the novel idea of creating a second Scottish-only Parliament in Edinburgh.

Anyway, they spent 5 years and a billion dollars building the ugliest building possible. In addition to the ugliness, it manages to look especially retarded sitting amongst a group of buildings built in or before the 1700s (and the Palace which is damned old).

So, naturally, I wanted to take a tour.

During this tour, there was a group of old ladies, probably my grandmother's age. They managed to ask a question or make an unnecessary comment EVERY TIME the tour guide took a breath (which wasn't actually that often). Is it really necessary to enquire about how the windows are cleaned? Can't we just take it for granted some some poor schmuck* has to go out there and clean them? I mean, do they look dirty?

Seriously, though, I thought these sorts of people only existed in college classrooms, with their heads firmly planted up both their own and the professor's asses. I guess they get old too -- turning into retired people with their heads firmly planted up their own and anyone who will listen's ass.

They're old. They can't take up knitting or smoking marijuana or something? Come on! If you're bored, join a quilting circle or become a lush, there are TONS of acceptable hobbies out there for an aging woman or man. Pick one and stop bothering me.

*Its interesting to point out that my spell checker not only noticed that schmuck was originally spelled wrong, but it also suggested the proper spelling.

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