riday, July 11, 2008
Conversations with a Brit. Start from the bottom. It’s funny!
Current mood: okay
I met a rather insane, yet funny British man in England. Here are some of our email exchanges…he’s funny. Start with the ones at the bottom and go up :)
AH the humour!! Does the MRS beat me up? As there is no Mrs to beat me up I’d have to say no (there has been someone recently and I do have a story to tell. If I get to know you better, I’ll tell you what that is). But if you’d like to see if I stand up to a rowdy woman then by all means try me. We’ll see who wins that particular fight. I’ve never lost a fight to anyone from Utah and I don’t plan ..ing now.
I take it from your comment about British men and the sun that you’ve never heard the saying “Only mad dogs and Englishmen go out in the midday sun” As we don’t really have a summer here when we go to a hot country, in our ignorance, we’ve got the habit of sunbathing at midday and going bright red. That, mixed with the fact while on holiday we wear string vests, hankies on our heads and socks and shoes on the beach, has unsurprisingly given us the reputation of being the sexiest men in the world. You’d undoubtedly agree with that.
We generally tend to decide which country to invade on who’s going to put up the least resistance but give us the most benefit. A habit I’m glad to see the US has wholeheartedly embraced!! These people need saving from themselves, don’t you know?
A hostel with rules!! That’s what we told those pesky South African Boers all those years ago when we invented them. But would they listen? Speaking of hostels with rules I hear a certain US resort on Cuba is quite nice this time of year? They even give you a nice uniform to wear and pay for your flight!
So you weren’t responsible for what you said last thursday night? I see. It must have been that “tea” you drank!! ;o)
Yaunda stand dontcha mate? I think that’s an improvement on the way you spoke before. Well done!
Subject: RE: Liverpool
Date: Wed, 18 Jun 2008 09:58:57 -0600
I’m enclosing one photo until I can gather a folder and send more.
Scuba diving? I thought british men didn’t go out in the sun. Isn’t that how you decide on which country to invade, sitting in over-sized chairs with tobacco pipes? I am sure you will do fine, best of luck.
I have to tell you that nothing gets my heart a flutter like a british man in heals. In America we call them transvestites, funny how our language is the same yet so different.
Yes your MRS the one who was no doubt waiting around a corner for her dodgy husband who was entertaining two American girls. Does she hit you? I know that British men are too proper to put up much of a fight against a roudy woman, if you ever need back up I will be there. After-all, our two countries support our teaming up on those terrorizing civilized people. Clearly I’m referring to England, concentration camps are nothing more than hostels with rules…right?
Cynthia and I are recovering from our beer coma, although I think the brain damage has caused a horrible speech impediment. I’m suddenly unable to articulate and sound like I have a bag of marbles in my mouth. yaunda stand dontcha mate?
Subject: RE: Liverpool
Date: Wed, 18 Jun 2008 10:41:43 +0100
I think you’ll find your heart going a flutter when you see me dressed in my Luscious wig, very very tight leggings and high heeled shoes. Or maybe me pursuing you dressed as a Red Coat would be more to your taste?
As for our being barbarians, well, I don’t think the country that gave the world cricket could ever be accused of barbarism, do you? (let’s look past the fact that we invented the concentration camp. Cricket’s far more important)
Yes, we can’t allow any news of my American escapades to reach the MRS (Whomever she may be at the time?) From experience pictures of me attempting to seduce a beautiful American girl whilst dressed as an 18th century soldier are not easily explained and can put a certain strain on any relationship!
Oh yeah, you’ll have to wish me luck. I’m just about to attempt the course which would allow me to work as a professional diver. I’m already Scuba qualified but I’d love to do it professionally. I’ll keep you posted.
So, how’s Ireland? Sleeping off another Guiness-induced hangover I imagine. Do you and Cynthia plan to visit the fair northern twon of Liverpool?
Must dash…it’s my turn to make tea.
p.s. Where are these bloody photos you promised me? ;o)
Subject: RE: Liverpool
Date: Tue, 17 Jun 2008 11:41:30 -0600
G.Q. Whatever I called you last thursday (which I can’t be held accountable for, I was confused and dazed by your funny accent)
Polite society? Oh no, we don’t have that in the US, after-all our country was founded by these horrible barbarians from some Island in non-continental europe. I mean, just a few hundred years ago their men were actually running around in Luscious wigs and high heels. Very bizarre. How did you manage to joust in those? Do english saddles actually come special made with a vanity mirror for powder touch-ups, and stiletto repair kits? It would be a shame to break a heel right before a big jousting tournament.
Don’t worry love, I will keep you out of trouble when you get over here for a visit. I would feel awful if you did something to piss off the Mrs. 😉
Subject: RE: Liverpool
Date: Tue, 17 Jun 2008 12:52:43 +0100
M.E. (I can’t bring myself to say H.R.H) UTAHN
Thank you so very much for your enlightening email. I’ll be sure to print out a copy and keep it handy when I come to visit your land of the free and home of the brave. I wouldn’t want to start a diplomatic incident by accidently asking someone if I could bum a “fag”, or indeed introducing myself in polite society (if such a term can be used in America) as your “mate”.
Please don’t mention the Boston Tea throwing incident again. It brings an image of wild-eyed colonials throwing perfectly good tea into the harbour. Not a pleasant thought for an Englishman. In fact I’ll go and have a nice cuppa now to calm the nerves.
Go on, I dare you to go up to a Paddy and ask where your lucky charms are! Or even better, where his lucky charms are!! HAHA..that should get you a good response!
Keep practising that Enlglish.
G.Q. aka (What did you call me last thursday night?) Darling? ;o)
Subject: RE: Liverpool
Date: Mon, 16 Jun 2008 18:21:09 -0600
Who on earth said I want to be an English lady?! Even if I did, I can’t drink tea because we dumped it all somewhere in Boston. I’m sure the look of HRH was priceless.
Since you’ve been so kind I’d like to return the favor.
1. Fag=homosexual, which you cannot smoke
2. Puff=something you clean your ears with, not a gay man
3. pounds=a measurement of weight, not money…psh
4. flower=something a botonist or garderner has, not a woman
5. mate=breeding, not a friend…or actually could be a really close friend. Right mate?
6. dentist=your teeth are not, but there is no denying your country has a bad reputation.
Okay I think that’s enough for now, I don’t want you to feel like I’m being nit-picky or anything.
I’m in Ireland now, I have to go find me lucky charms.
M.E aka HRH
Subject: FW: Liverpool
Date: Mon, 16 Jun 2008 13:35:30 +0100
M.E. Homegirl from the block!
let’s run through a few words which, through no fault of your own, you’ve never learned to spell correctly.
Colour – There is a U in colour…
Humour – see above
Metre – The R goes before the E
Centre – see above
Aeroplane – Airplane?? Isn’t that how a 5 year-old might spell it?
emphasise – There’s no Z there, is there?
specialise – see above
Aluminium – Is not pronounced “ALOOOOMINUM”. It’s pronounced “Aluminium”
There’s no need to worry about the mistakes mentioned above as I can see some potential for change in you. But if you want to be an English lady you’ll have to submit to my rigorous teaching programme(The cost of which is to be decided at a later date). A strict diet of Tea, cucumber sandwiches and fish & chips should also be embarked upon post haste.
Mmmm…revolution musuem? To what revolution would you be refering, my dear? 1776? What happened in that year? I know what happened in 1812 when there was the unfortunate misunderstanding and we forced to burn down a White colOURED House in Washington…
Clean your gun collection? Is that Utah slang for something else?? I’ll have to speak to HRH about that, see if she approves.
I’ve just sent you a text message by the way.
Keep it real
Subject: RE: Liverpool
Date: Mon, 16 Jun 2008 04:52:49 -0600
We are THinking (notice how I emphasized the TH sound because it is in fact a TH rather than a F) about going to Camden today. Not sure when we’re leaving but you are welcome to join us. If not, I THink we’ll have plenty of time for coffee because our ALUMINUM AIRPLANE doesn’t leave until 9 p.m.
shoot us a text message 0018016288757 (I THink that’s all of the numbers you need).
I recommend those books because they are really good, both are dark, witty, and I’m confident they will appeal to your sense of humOR. Both authors have incredible writing styles, and voice.
I missed out on your amazing dancing skills did I? Sad. Well you can show me when you come to the land of the free and the home of the brave, aka the U.S.A. Before we head to a club you can help me clean my gun collection, then tour a revolution museum, I think you will enjoy that part of our history as it is fascinating.
Talk with you soon MATE.
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Friday, July 04, 2008
Thank God, I’m not in spain anymore
After spending a few days in a Spanish aeroport I’m happy to say that we are finally in Italy with NORMAL people. madrid. Ew. Seriously.
Let’s start with the ambiance. Every street smells like two hundred drunk guys pissed all over, then died. The stench is gag inducing. While you walk through the crowded streets smelling dead man, and urine you can admire the “window art” in every window which consists of random animal parts strewn about and topped off with a skinned and scraped bull head adorning sunglasses. Charming, and clearly original because up until now I had always thought of carcass to be unattractive, but I was obviously mistaken. The minute I get home I’m killing a dog and putting it in my window, ed gien was not insane, he was a spanish artist. There were many great things about madrid besides the scenery, liek the natives.
The natives are very “modern” in the way that they care only for themselves. We literally saw an old lady pushed over because some young gentleman wanted to sit down. Old people are gross, but I’ve never seen them treated with such complete disrespect (deserving of course). The next day we saw an old lady run down the street with heavy boxes while a line of men watched her and did nothing. I mean, if she can’t do it herself she shoudl be dead right? Can’t have weak old ladies walking around bothering us during our delicious meal of bocadillos and bocadillos.
Walking through the streets of madrid are never boring, and you never feel lonely because ever tom, dick, and hairy wants to be your best friend. By best friend I mean they want to rape you, and then put your used dead body in a window I’m sure. Every block guys would literally grab us and try to pull us into bars, or alleys. At home I have to beg for dates, but in Spain I can have every guy rather I want him or not. Jealous. It’s about quanity not quality.
Speaking of quantity, everything is expensive.The amount of euros we spent on bocodillas makes me want to move to spain. They are dry, white bread, baguettes with only tomatoes and lettuce. Seriously, who could resist?! If you don’t like that you can eat paea or whatever, which is the equivelent of the ocean throwing up on a bed of rice. Delicious?! YOU BET!
So with the food, creepy men, and wonderful smells it was hard to notice that crazy women were screaming at us constantly because their creepy boyfriends stared at us, or that we were robbed (i think of it as charity…maybe they were trying to leave spain?) or that people get really really pissed if you knock over their brochures (don’t ask), or gave you brown liquid in large vases that taste delicious but eventually make you hallucinate. Clearly, it was an unforgetable experience, unfortunately. I’m going to need therapy, thank god I’m in italy with normal human beings again and luckily staying with my friend who is a psychologist. I’m going to need the help.
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Friday, July 04, 2008
ireland: river dancing and more
It’s not nice to river dance. It gets you thrown out of a bar, and accused of being too drunk. It’s very offensive to be called “too drunk” in IRELAND.
It’s not smart to wear very high heels where there are cobblestone streets. You will end up in a gutter, face down, on top of a friend, too drunk to move.
Jameson is really cheap.
Northern Ireland is gorgeous, and surrounded by barb wire with signs reading, “sect violence will not be tolerated in this area”. yikes.
British boys call americans “salad dodgers” because americans are fat. Then after they scream “salad dodging cunt” to a fat girl in front of an irish pub they turn around and say, “oh not you love, you’re actually quite cute”.
Boys in powder blue sweaters are funny, but a little freaky.
Irish men are hot, but wussy. They won’t hit on you, so you have to hit them. If you hit them they walk you home and tell you they love you after giving you the best goodnight kiss ever. Then they say things like, “just sleep over” where I say, “fuck no” and then they say, “oh come on gairl (girl), I like ya, I’mnot tryin to fuck ya” where I say, “yeah I know cuase I”m not going to your house” then they say, “i love ya” after two minutes of knowing you, nickname you “selma” and then go home.
Lephracauns fight midgets in the forest, and bite.
If you yell, “where the fuck is my lucky charms” you get dirty looks, then offered a cigarrette.
Brazillian girls crying in their bunk over a missed boyfriend is the saddest thing ever, and trying to cheer them up by trying to samba doesn’t work, they just think you are having a seizure.
Stalking Irish bartenders pays off, sort of.
A suzu calls her vagina a nuzu.
a suzu is one of my favorite girls in europe right now.
suzu and I river danced together, and were thrown out the pub together. again, you can’t riverdance.
DO NOT TELL AN IRISH BOY HIS FOOTBALL TEAM SUCKS. He gets mad and storms off before coming back to give you a hug and run off again.
The irish have a million anti england songs, and it always reminds me of the american revolution…and funny red coats.
Potato is a great name for a vagina, and potato famine is a great way to say “nobody is giving it to me” in code. also, “mash me potato” is funny to yell down the street.
The average dinner in Dublin is about 15 euros (25 dollars) and in Derry it’s about 3 pounds (six dollars).