Let Large Two recently married Tasmanians, flying to the US, with ambitions to buy a bb gun at walmart, be stars in LA by wearing sunlasses indoors, re-marry in Vegas, pack an artery with creole cooking in New Orleans, and determine whether America needs saving

It's called the American minute because after a minute of browsing a travel blog, the reader becomes 67% less interested.  Who would have thought that while stopping at a diner in Texas, we would see a customer with emphasima wheezing through a portable oxygen mask, interrupting his own troubled gasps for air to take puffs of his bent cigarette.  Why did we see some chemists in New York advertising they had Potassium Iodine in stock? This is what people take to stave off radiation poisoning.  American Idiosyncrosies were varied and often perplexing.  The tipping, incessant politeness, the unavoidable requirement of side-dishes, condaments, and liquid cheese.  Towering breakfasts, bad coffee, hotdogs at every turn, bottomless soft-drinks.  Great steaks, ribs, and anything barbecued.  The alure of live sport in America is captivating.  Great local beers almost everywhere. Pubs-a-plenty, and most are better than anything in Australia.   There is something for everyone in the vast and expansive land.  A place where even the bad things are good.