Don’t Let’s Be Beastly to the Germans

Don’t Let’s Be Beastly to the Germans was the title of a Noel Coward song.  I fully agree.  Let’s be beastly to the Dutch instead.

Last week I sent the following cartoon out to my British and German friends, many of whom then forwarded it in turn to their friends via Facebook, Whatsapp, etc.

DutchExorcism

Have a guttural day, won’t you!

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Obsolescent Words

Some words in the English seem to be  dying out, or have died out.  Who these days says:

  • Editress
  • Manageress

I guess it’s the suffix that has died out, rather than the word per se.

But what about the following words?

  • Aerodrome
  • Rivulet
  • Charabanc

Who actually uses those words these days?  Just sayin’…

Have an obsolescent day, won’t you!

scrap metal trash litter scrapyard

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How to confuse a 5-year-old

A few weeks ago I attended a Roman Catholic first communion, namely that of a young relative of Schatz.  Me, I’m a Prod and proud, to quote from the song, but I’m more than happy to attend such things, stick some cash in the lad’s Erste Kommunion card and join the family for post-mass buffet lunch (which was delicious).

Before the mass started, I chatted to Schatz’s relative-in-law, her five-year-old daughter, seated between us.  R-in-L and I chatted in German.  Daughter sat quietly all during the mass.

Eventually we reached the Lord’s Prayer.  Everyone else said it in German: Vater unser, etc.  I said it in English, my beloved mother tongue, thus:

Our Father, which art in heaven,
Hallowed be thy Name;
Thy kingdom come;
Thy will be done
in earth, as it is in heaven:
Give us this day our daily  bread;
And forgive us our trespasses,
as we forgive them that trespass against us;
And lead us not into temptation,
But deliver us from evil:
When before the Collect the priest alone recites the prayer, the people here respond: Amen.
When after all have communicated the people repeat each petition after the priest, the prayer ends:
For thine is the kingdom,
the power, and the glory,
For ever and ever.
Amen.

Within a few syllables, five-year-old is staring at me, her jaw nearly reaching the ground.  Daughter tells Mutti words to the effect:

I can’t understand a word he is saying.

Mutti tells daughter:

He comes from another country. 

(Daughter still looks mystified as I flick back into German.)

Have a confusing day, won’t you!

man driving vehicle near tree

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I Wouldn’t Give Tuppence for All of the Rest…

We English are a strange bunch.  We love understatement.

It’s not really my cup of tea.

(“I can’t stand it at all.”)

I’m not full of joy.

(“I need a ton of Prozac right now.”)

I got a little bit sunburnt today.

(“I have third-degree burns over 80% of my body.”)

Do you want to know if an English person likes you or not?  Try this very useful flowchart.

47571232_10215273276278243_4238338147907272704_n.jpg

Have you ever experienced a mishap?  For example, do you ever want sympathy when your pizza order has been delivered to the wrong address, and Pizzas’R’Us refuse to refund you?  Then don’t post the news on Facebook.  Your German neighbours will share their sympathy and outrage:

Das ist eine absolute Unverschämtheit!  Das geht gar nicht!  Was für eine Frechheit!

Your English friends and neighbours will just mock you and troll you for hours and hours. They will:

  • Tell you how they really enjoyed eating the pizza Hawaiian and Classico that arrived unexpectedly some thirty minutes ago
  • Post sarcastic comments about part-eaten pizzas
  • Post photos of part-eaten pizzas
  • Crack even more jokes at your expense when you react with anger

Cue joke:

Well, it’s Advent now, so here’s a seasonal joke for y’all.  Good King Wenceslas walks into Pizzas’R’Us and orders a pizza. 

“And how would you like your pizza?”

“Same as ever, please.  Deep pan, crisp and even.”

  • You will get no sympathy of your English neighbours.  None.  Zilch.  Not a drop.

You will have to either get angry, or just admit defeat and join in with the mocking.  The English are best!

Have an English day, won’t you!

Urban Dictionary

Unless you are hyperlexic, you’ll sometimes be wondering what a word means, even if you are a native speaker of English.

So to help you along, here is one of my favourite websites, which covers both British and American English.

Introducing you to Urban Dictionary.

Much to my chagrin, however, they have ceased producing the Urban Dictionary block calendar, which always used to adorn my desk at work.

Schade.

Enjoy the website, and don’t be a bucket mouth!

Have a lexical day, won’t you!

black and white book business close up

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Now just hang on…

Today I want to talk about hanging.  No, I’m only pulling your leg.  Where does that expression come from?  It’s actually quite macabre, and linked to capital punishment.

The “modern, humane” method of hanging as a form of execution is to break a bone in the neck, causing instant death.  The old method was, in short, strangulation, a method which was slow and painful.  (As an aside: some of the executions at the end of the Nuremberg Trials were badly botched, leading to some of the condemned men dying very, very slowly and agonisingly: 15 to 30 minutes in several cases.)

“I’m only pulling your leg”, meaning “I’m only gently teasing you”, goes back to the days when your friends would try to shorten your agony as you were slowly strangled to death at the end of a rope.  They were literally trying to put you out of your misery by trying to force air out of your body and send you unconscious.

Fancy a gala day out?  Guess what.  That comes from the days when watching the public hangings was pretty much a spectator sport, a family day out, if you like, when everyone would go down to the gallows.

Are you on the wagon?  Not drinking?  When the condemned man was being transported on a donkey-drawn cart from prison to the gallows, he would be allowed to stop off at the pubs on the way to execution.  If he decided not to pop into the pub for a quick half, he would stay on the wagon.  There is even a pub in Abingdon in Oxfordshire called The Broad Face.  Legend has it, this is because the pub was located opposite a prison where old-method hanging was carried out.  I won’t go into the physiological details here…

Have a gala day, won’t you!