I’m currently in the Salt Lake City airport, in a pub-ish area (because they have open seats), waiting for my connection. The World Cup is on the TV. This is the first time I’ve heard the buzz of the vuvuzela in-context.
I just had a cinnabon. I’ve never had a cinnabon. They’re basically just really frosted, greazy cinnamon buns. Mine was fresh out of the oven, so that was cool.
I think I saw salt flats out the window. Totally threw me for a loop. “What the Hell am I looking at? What’s all that white stuff?” I thought, in my just-having-woken-up mind.