A queer insult.

Sometimes the difference in culture between the UK and the USA rears its ugly, and usually amusing, head. Today was one of those times.

At work we have some internal instant messaging software which is great for employees to communicate when they:

A) Can’t call.

B) Won’t call.

C) Have the social skills of a gibbon with its scrotum in a jar of fire ants.

As my department is like a central hub for any questions or issues from our call centre, we get a lot of instant messages to help out with all kinds of weird and wonderful situations.

Here is a conversation I literally just had:

Fran: Hi, I need some help

Me: Hey Fran, it’s Daniel, your favorite Brit 😉

Fran: Hey Daniel! How’s it going?

Me: Pretty good. Busy! So what’s up?

(For security reasons, this part of the conversation is omitted as it’s work related.  Needless to say, I fixed the problem like a boss!)

Me: Done!

Fran: Great! Thanks.

Me: No problem 😉

Fran: Have a great day!

Me: You have a great day too 🙂

Fran: Poof

Now, she meant to imply that she magically and dramatically vanished from the conversation in a puff of smoke, like a genie….or Batman.

To me she ended that conversation with ‘Faggot‘.

I laughed like a drain for at least a minute, solidly.

It was one of the funniest insults I’ve received since living in America, particularly because it was unintentional and from a person who wouldn’t even say boo to a goose (with or without their nuts in a jar of fire ants).

poof

This is also the word we use for an ‘Ottoman’. England is a weird place.

 

Donning the (s)cowl

Yesterday I attended a course called the ‘Why Workshop’; It was an all-day session designed to ‘Discover your Why’.

I was skeptical at first because ‘discovering your Why’ just doesn’t sound right.  It feels like there are a few words missing; it’s a grammatical nightmare.

The course was a little too touchy-feely for my liking, with intimate stories, tears and emotions. That said, there was free food provided for lunch, so I put on my best sad face and pushed on through.

The day also resulted in me ‘discovering my Why’.  Well, if I’m honest, it was discovered for me really.  It was less ‘discovering my Why’ and more ‘discovering my What the fuck?’.

I always assumed the answer to why I exist was ‘To masturbate furiously on a daily, if not hourly, basis’, but it turns out I was wrong all this time (looks at oversized right bicep with pride)

My ‘Why’ is…..

To be the selfless voice of the unfairly judged so that they can be crowned with a content and happy life too, without injustice.

So, apparently I’m Batman.

batman-rooftop