Pixies, some interesting news for you:
English is not a god given gift to mankind.
I am delighted for the British Empire that they successfully managed to impose their language on the Irish nation. It is sweet to see your nice trials to keep your own language alive, although it is long dead and rotten as the meat in Superquinn's reduced prices section.
It's not a new phenomenon that you pretend to hate the English whilst at the same time admiring their football teams, TV shows, music and fashion and imitating their whole life style consistently: whatever insanity they come along with, e.g. moon boots combined with pyjamas, you adapt it.
Given that I am not surprised that you are acting with the same arrogance travelling to other countries and expecting everyone to speak your well-loved, sacred English like you do in the most ridiculous accent you could imagine (it's not teef it's a thief, you pronounce the th by curving your tongue, slightly upwards at the tip - creating a shape similar to a spoon between the tip and the base. The tip of the tongue should be touching the bottom edge of the top row of teeth, on the narrow part/edge, you dumbasses).
I just went to Sicily to escape your dreadful weather and to get at least a couple of nice sunny days this year.
More than once I saw how red-as-a-lobster, sunburned Irish tourists were speaking away in English to domestic Italian waiters or vendors not even making the slightest effort to ask beforehand if they speak English at all. It satisfied myself to see that these waiters didn't give a shit about this disrespectfulness and kept giving answers in Italian to them. The outcome was that these pixies ordered something they didn't know what it is as they couldn't remeber a word French or Spanish that they "learned" in school by teacher Mr Fritz and Mrs Scorchio, so they weren't even able to derive from the base of the words in the menu. Therefore, the redhaired Irish couple sitting at the table next to me were eating frog's leg now, in place of the wished Pizza Funghi and were drinking tomato juice instead of red wine. I overheard an angry conversation between them saying that it was unbelievably rude that the waiter didn't actually speak a word English and that they were tourists and would expect that at least in restaurants there would be a basic level of English comprehension.
I think it's absurd and paradox as the same bunch of people are getting annoyed at home by foreigners speaking their native languages in public instead of English although themselves are not actually meant to be part in that conversation.
Later on the plane on my way back I noticed other Irish people giving out that the announcements on the plane where made in Italian first an then in English. They got really pissed off about that and couldn't understand.
Pixies: arrogance doesn't suit you and doesn't make sense. Go back to your farm, eat some potatoes and watch your English favourite team not winning the league title again but don't bother travelling to countries where a different language is being spoken if you can't handle it. You are a disgrace for the whole European Union and as you now finally voted for being a part of it, you better cop on if you still want to fill up your pot of gold drooling over the millions the people of bigger and civilised countries as Germany, England, France and Italy are working very hard for day by day. Stupid is as stupid does. Over and out.
Showing posts with label English occupation. Show all posts
Showing posts with label English occupation. Show all posts
Wednesday, 14 October 2009
Friday, 24 July 2009
I love your shoes
Dear pixies,
I would like to start my today's post with a quote of an old Billy Joel song.
Billy Joel, one of the greatest musicians ever, as big as stars like Johnny Logan and David Hasselhoff, describes in his song perfectly what happens to be a status quo in pixieland.
Why? That's quickly explained.
Let me tell you about an observation I made.
Woman A and woman B accidentally meet each other on the street.
Woman A (let's call her Bláthnaid): Oh hellloooooo! How are youuuuuuuuuu?
Woman B (I think she was an Aoibheann): Oh my god Bláthnaid, it is so good to see youuu! I am fine, how are youuuuuuuu?
Woman A: I am very well and so delighted to seeeee youuuu!
Woman B: Mee tooo. Oh I loooooooove your shoes!
Woman A: Thank youuuuuuu! I love them too, they are fannntaaaaastic, arent't they?
Woman B: Oh Aoibheann, I swear to god, they look so good on you! They are gorgeous!
You would think this is a typical conversation of two mid 30 year old women and apart of the fact that their sirene chitchat in a exaggerated high pitched voice causes
unbearable pains in every male hearing organ, you might be inclined to believe they are very nice to each other.
Wrong. Let me translate for you how the conversation was like if Bláthnaid and Aoibheann would have said what they were actually thinking.
Woman A: Oh shit, feckin' Aoibheann, I hate that bitch, what the hell is she doing here?
Woman B: Why isn't it possible to just go shopping without meeting annoying people! Damn!
Woman A: I am not well at all, but I surely won't tell you about it, nosy cow.
Woman B: Bláthnaid you really should see a dermatologist, your skin looks gross. Sweet Jesus, where did she buy these awful looking shoes, her feet look fat in them, that's so bad.
Woman A: Of course they are lovely for that price, what is she thinking? I still haven't told my husband Mark that I spend 250 quid on them.
Woman B: I think I need to throw up.
Pixies, I am stunned how well you are in lying without blushing. But why can't you try to be a bit more honest, at least to yourselves?
Another example:
A couple is having dinner in a very posh restaurant. They still haven't realised that the celtic tiger went back where he came from a long time ago and will never return.
They are having huge debths, but for their "friends" they are trying to keep the illusion of being part of the high society alive.
She: What is wrong with the food darling, you are not looking happy.
He: It doesn't taste at all, it is a disgrace, I gonna kick the waiter's ass when he comes back!
A minute later the waiter comes over to their table.
Waiter: Is everything okay?
He: It is absolutely fantastic, the porched eggs taste delicious, thank you very much!
(and looks embarassed down at his plate)
What is wrong with you my little friends? Are you still under schock of years of English occupation? Are you living the life of Patrick Bateman in American Psycho?
Let me quote one of the rare wise leprechauns you have:
Think about it.
And by the way: I loooooooooooooove your country.
I would like to start my today's post with a quote of an old Billy Joel song.
"Honesty is such a lonely word.
Everyone is so untrue."
Billy Joel, Honesty
Everyone is so untrue."
Billy Joel, Honesty
Billy Joel, one of the greatest musicians ever, as big as stars like Johnny Logan and David Hasselhoff, describes in his song perfectly what happens to be a status quo in pixieland.
Why? That's quickly explained.
Let me tell you about an observation I made.
Woman A and woman B accidentally meet each other on the street.
Woman A (let's call her Bláthnaid): Oh hellloooooo! How are youuuuuuuuuu?
Woman B (I think she was an Aoibheann): Oh my god Bláthnaid, it is so good to see youuu! I am fine, how are youuuuuuuu?
Woman A: I am very well and so delighted to seeeee youuuu!
Woman B: Mee tooo. Oh I loooooooove your shoes!
Woman A: Thank youuuuuuu! I love them too, they are fannntaaaaastic, arent't they?
Woman B: Oh Aoibheann, I swear to god, they look so good on you! They are gorgeous!
You would think this is a typical conversation of two mid 30 year old women and apart of the fact that their sirene chitchat in a exaggerated high pitched voice causes
unbearable pains in every male hearing organ, you might be inclined to believe they are very nice to each other.
Wrong. Let me translate for you how the conversation was like if Bláthnaid and Aoibheann would have said what they were actually thinking.
Woman A: Oh shit, feckin' Aoibheann, I hate that bitch, what the hell is she doing here?
Woman B: Why isn't it possible to just go shopping without meeting annoying people! Damn!
Woman A: I am not well at all, but I surely won't tell you about it, nosy cow.
Woman B: Bláthnaid you really should see a dermatologist, your skin looks gross. Sweet Jesus, where did she buy these awful looking shoes, her feet look fat in them, that's so bad.
Woman A: Of course they are lovely for that price, what is she thinking? I still haven't told my husband Mark that I spend 250 quid on them.
Woman B: I think I need to throw up.
Pixies, I am stunned how well you are in lying without blushing. But why can't you try to be a bit more honest, at least to yourselves?
Another example:
A couple is having dinner in a very posh restaurant. They still haven't realised that the celtic tiger went back where he came from a long time ago and will never return.
They are having huge debths, but for their "friends" they are trying to keep the illusion of being part of the high society alive.
She: What is wrong with the food darling, you are not looking happy.
He: It doesn't taste at all, it is a disgrace, I gonna kick the waiter's ass when he comes back!
A minute later the waiter comes over to their table.
Waiter: Is everything okay?
He: It is absolutely fantastic, the porched eggs taste delicious, thank you very much!
(and looks embarassed down at his plate)
What is wrong with you my little friends? Are you still under schock of years of English occupation? Are you living the life of Patrick Bateman in American Psycho?
Let me quote one of the rare wise leprechauns you have:
"Anger is a gift."
Think about it.
And by the way: I loooooooooooooove your country.
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