Are not the Welsh supposedly an educated lot? Oh, so many great talents have come to us from the isles, but for some reason I've been sent to the United Kingdom's very own purgatory, Hythe.
I did so relish being flung across the Atlantic, leaving the vast sea and America behind. If I were more of a cynic, I would have anticipated being stuck in such a dull village. I saw one lad standing outside and I shouted to him, "Dear lad, have some Keats spring from your mouth. I do yearn to hear his words come out in true English." The boy simply stared at my and then showed me a peace sign with his fingers. Only thing is, the little hippie did it backwards! Ack, such simple people.
I decided to sample the local cuisine. I warn you, dear reader, if ever stuck in Hythe, avoid the food at all costs. It is naught but sculpted lard.
At least my body's in Europe. Something good's bound to happen.
