Fries With That

Even in the winter, Hawaii is a pretty lovely place to visit. We've spent three days here, staying in Waikiki and enjoying the sunshine. In that time, we've lazed on the beach, driven around the island in a convertible Mustang, walked through a rainforest, eaten ourselves silly at a traditional island Luau and snorkled with a rainbow of fishes on a coral reef. It's been excellent, and there will be photos.

There are an incredible number of Japanese visitors here. Downtown Waikiki makes Surfers Paradise look like Gympie. There are a few tanned surfer types with funky haircuts, but most are either part of older Japanese tour groups, dressed in white socks and sandals, or young couples dressed in pastels with insanely adorable kids. Japanese children should be made illegal by the Geneva Convention, as their cuteness can defeat any foe. An army of them could not only bring total peace to Iraq in a matter of days, but leave Ahmed the hard-bitten, one-eyed, three-fingered terrorist going "Awwwww... kawaiiii!" until his head exploded. It's no wonder Kate loved working in the Japanese kindergarden so much - they had completely and utterly possessed her mind.

I've come to the conclusion that the secret purpose of the United States of America is to make everyone in the world fat. All the food here comes in super extra jumbo banquet size, with unlimited refills of cheese, bacon and thick creamery butter. I can feel my arteries hardening with every serving, but I really don't care. I figure a spare tyre's worth of flab is a fair price for pizza that makes my tastebuds explode with ecstasy, ascend to heaven in holy glory and then be born anew with every bite. I hope my will returns soon, or else the only way I'm coming home will be in a transparent aluminum tank in the cargo hold. Bon appetit.