At the moment, I’m quite undecided on whether I like Boston or not. And here’s a few reasons why:
Firstly, I despise American history with a deep passion, for being so prideful and with it’s head stuck up it’s own ass. Rather than, say, actually learning about the world’s past, the yanks seem to just have everything from Independence Day onwards forcibly drilled into their brains all the way through the education system, like some kind of propaganda… can you say fascist regime? Well, maybe I’m exaggerating, but I’m trying to prove a point here. On a guided trolley tour around the sights of the city on my first day, everyone apart from me and my family seemed to know every bleeding pointless United States fact off by heard, leaving us limeys having no idea what the hell the old coot’s rambling about (I think he was a stroke victim or something, mumbling so much, they should ship him off to Florida). In fact, his tour went something like ‘BLAH BLAH REDCOATS BLAH INDEPENDENCE DAY BLAH THE BRITISH ARE IDIOTIC WUSSIES BLAH WOOH AMERICA USA! U-S-A!!”. Or something like that, I wasn’t really paying much attention at all. At least the old buildings in Boston are pretty, so it’s not all bad.
Now, onto Boston’s main advantage – the opposite sex. Bearing in mind that my first day in the city was the 4th July (Independence Day for all you thickies) – maybe it was the summer fashion, or the weather, or the fact that it was a national holiday so everyone wasn’t an imbecilic tourist… but the number of hot girls increased dramatically compared with the Big Apple. And as an added bonus, the majority of these happened to be in tight jeans and converse… yum. Couldn’t go a few feet without spotting someone (and I’m referring to people above age of consent here, for the sake of legality), and I’m wondering why all places can’t be like this . People say I’m picky, but I guess this proves I’m not – either that, or I’m just getting more desperate. Does this mean Boston is good because it’s full of cite chicks, or bad because it drills in the loneliness of my pitiful existence just that little bit harder… screw it. All that matters is that patriotism is sexy, right?