Culturally Discombobulated

Category: Mildly diverting

Croissant misery

America, we need to talk about your casual disregard for the sanctity of the croissant. It’s not a sandwich bread to be stuffed with chicken salad or sausage like some tawdry, half-stale silce of Mighty White; you can’t pump it full of grease and fried egg like silicone into an aging starlet – its simplicity is its beauty.  Just look at this thing, this McMuffinized bastardization that I picked up at SFO this morning! I’m faintly revulsed by it, and myself for eating it*. We might as well have spat in the face of a Frenchman or booed buring La Marseillaise.


* In mitigation, I simply ordered the breakfast sandwich and didn’t notice

Upon being mistaken for a Bruce

A woman complimented me on my Australian accent today and so I ended up bluffing my way through a five minute conversation about Sydney – it just seemed less awkward than correcting her.

Back to school book selections


There’s some articles I’ve come across recently that state that there’s been 74 school shootings in the US over the last 18 months. With such depressing numbers I’m unsure whether this back to school display at my local Barnes & Noble is intended as darkly satricial or cynically practical.

Sarah Lyall on the British

After reading this article by Sarah Lyall detailing her observations about the British after 18 years living in London, Mrs W. remarked that we’d been away from the UK so long she’d forgotten that the more seemingly idiosyncratic aspects of my personality (penchant for miserablism, constant self-deprecation, etc) were, in fact, cultural and not that unusual back home.

“That’s a relief,” she said, “I had been thinking that it might be time for you to have some therapy, but then I realized you’re just British – no amount of therapy can fix that.”

A cultural catalyst and a means by which to procrastinate.

The Very British Name Generator is, I suppose, a vaguely diverting idea if you’re trying to kill time in the office on a Tuesday afternoon.

Putting my, I guess, “very British name” (whatever that actually means) into it, I got this back.


Tony Wilson, I’m sure he’d have identified as Mancunian first, British second, but I’ll take it.