Saturday, 26th February 2005
Fauxtoegraphic update
I uploaded a few fauxtoes last night of snowdrops and other things. I stopped going through all the fauxtoes I take at some point in the summer, yet I didn’t stop taking them. Accordingly, my ‘puter is overflowing with images waiting to see the light of day. I’m going to try to get back on top of this, but it’s quite frustrating uploading things on a dialup.
To commemorate my decision, I thought it high time to showcase some of my newer socks. If you look carefully, you will notice I am wearing matching, turquoise thermals. The tributes to socks shall resume as I got lots for christmas from The Monsters and a few on my trips to London last year. Anyway, in a few months, I will be near London markets again and the socky materialist inside of me is rubbing her feet with glee. Food or socks? What the hell do YOU think?
This here is the car that I will buy one day. Alternatively, it is the car that one of you will buy for me to thank me for my geniusness and nice shaped fingernails. I’m not fussy. It is a Renault 4 and I absolutely adore them. I see all the old people in France driving them at about 23 miles per hour. Mine will be lime green like this one or sunshine yellow. It will make me happy and I will love it and wash it and never kick it like I did Cecilia the other day when she broke down. I will call it Blip or Blop or Humpty or anything else that it asks me to and I will hug it every night before bed. Hurry up future, you will be so grand!
And this here is for Sandy because she sent me a beautiful card with yellow crocus’ on it and they happen to be one of my favourite flowers too. Since I can’t afford any ink for my printer to make you a card with this photo, I dedicate this paragraph and fauxtoe to your kindness and to your capacity to triumph over silly fuckwits and their missing or perhaps just highly shrivelled balls.
Finally, I would like to draw your attention to this fauxtoe here. I quite innocently uploaded it and called it “What time is it?” because after I got the Cunt bracelet, I annoyed Butcher Boy for a few hours by constantly and suddenly jutting out my arm, just so, pointing to my wrist, shouting loudly, “what time is it?” and then cackling like the witch I wish I was. However, just look at the image ID - 420! Ha! I think the cuntiverse wants me to start smoking weed again in solidarity with Cannabis Gran!
Friday, 25th February 2005
British Accents
Dearest Americans, I’m back on your case again!
There is no such thing as a British accent. When you talk about mimicking a British accent, what you are actually doing is increasing the tendency for the rest of the world to look at you like you are ignorant and dumb. Kind of like when you tell me that the UK is not a part of the EU and so I will not be able to legally live and work in oh, say, umm, France.
Now, because there are a handful of Americans that I do actually like, I am going to give you some basic information on accents and the UK.
As I have said, there is not a British accent but there are British people who live in the British Isles. I suppose you could collectively refer to all the accents originating in the British Isles as British accents, but you can’t talk in one. One might have an English accent, a Scottish accent, an Irish accent or a Welsh accent and of course, there are many dialects within each distinct accent. I’ll leave it up to your discerning ear to tell between them all, which is probably a foul move since the amount of times Americans thought I had a South African or Australian accent is uncountable. And yet you think yourselves capable of mimicry? *shakes head*
(In fact, there are many other accents inside the UK, but I am not going to include them for the simple fact that I don’t want to confuse the children.)
Oh, and for gods sake, please do NOT use Dick Van Dyke as a measuring stick. He is an American and that god awful accent that most of you attempt as your “British” or “English” or “Cockney” accent, is actually one of an American with no talent at all in the accent department. Hey, I loved “Mary Poppins” and “Chitty Chitty Bang Bang”, but no one talks like that in the UK. No one except dumbfuck Americans and possibly some Canadians too.
As a bonus extra, because lately I’ve read two people talking about Scotland not being a part of the UK, let me give you a brief geography lesson:
The UK is the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland.
Great Britain is made up of Scotland, Wales and England.
Got it?
Good.