If it wasn’t for us, you’d all be speaking [insert language here].

I’ve seen so many stupid and idiotic car stickers since living in Las Vegas, and whenever I see them I judge the driver, hate them through the windscreen [windshield], and move on with my life.

However, I recently saw a car sticker that annoyed me on so many levels, I just had to share it with you.

Or, maybe it’s because the sticker was printed in English?

Just a thought.

In fact, if I WAS reading it in another language, that would be another reason to thank a teacher, wouldn’t it?

Surely?

(shrugs)

Now, I’m not arrogant enough to misunderstand the sentiment of supporting the troops; I’m all for it. In fact, one of my best friends has three children in the Navy, but the jingoism of this sticker made my bum twitch.

However, as I was sat in traffic behind this numpty, and waiting 3 hours for the lights to turn any colour other than red, my mind wandered and I started thinking…

Maybe people don’t realise that even if the USA loses every single conflict they’re engaged in, we will STILL be speaking English. This is because – and prepare yourself for a massive revelation that will change your life – no-one is invading and occupying America.

At least, not yet.

Although, all joking aside, Maybe it really is believed, by many, that if the USA is forced out of the Middle East, everyone in America has to start speaking Pashto or Dari.

If that’s the case….زه بیرته انګلستان ته ځم

(Oh yeah, this guy knows how to use Google Translate)

Jesus saves…and he’s managed to save enough for a deposit on a billboard.

I know I try and stay away from any religious content because, well, America. But sometimes they poke the bear a few too many times and I have to at least growl a bit.

So, this billboard is a real thing over here.

What do you think; a little preachy?

Hmm, I’m not sure these pillocks know how procreation works. Without lust, no-one would be having sex and then we wouldn’t have babies to continue the species.

Oh wait, these twats also put these up.

So much facepalm.

Well, at least Jesus saves. I mean, as long as you don’t count cancer, AIDS, cot death, famine, poverty or any disputes, conflicts or wars in his name.

So……….

Us Brits don’t necessarily say what we mean…keep up, America!

If you’re an avid reader of my blog (and why wouldn’t you be?), then you’ll know that the last 3 years or so has mostly been content around the cultural differences between the UK and the US…and a plethora of fart and dick jokes too.

Anyway, I’ve noticed a few other small cultural differences; one of which I wanted to share with you.

This difference revolves around the phrase,“We really should get together soon and catch up”

 

In the UK

Me: “We really should get together soon and catch up”

(Translation: “I’m saying this to let you know I like you enough that the mere idea of us getting together socially is something I would enjoy IF we were to do it. But we both know that we’re unlikely to arrange it anytime soon, or EVER, because neither of us really feel like socialising with anyone to be honest. However, please know that if I WERE to socialise with anyone, the thought of doing it with you is tolerable and I wanted you to know that I value you THAT MUCH as a friend to suggest it in the first place”)

Brit: “We really should!”

(Translation: “I am subscribing to this social dance we’re doing. I like you too, but let’s not have this social anytime soon…or ever…unless we absolutely have to, but thank you for asking”)

Me: “Great!”

(Translation: “Phew!”)

 

In the US:

Me: “We really should get together soon and catch up”
(Translation: See above)

Yank: “I’m free this Saturday”
(Translation: “I’m free this Saturday”)

Me: “Shit”
(Translation: “Shit”)

Fully roosted coffee

At work, we have a dedicated private Facebook page in which employees can sell stuff.

It’s pretty good if you want baby clothes, a kitchen gadget they’ve ‘only used a couple [of] times’, and other shit and detritus they don’t want anymore.

Well, I decided to have a peruse through today’s offerings over my morning coffee, and happened upon this item.

You know this is going to be fowl

Usually stuff like this wouldn’t make it onto my blog, but I couldn’t resist with a description like this:

Extra large Cock – FREE to a good home

My first instinct was to look up from my desk and check around me to make sure I wasn’t having my leg pulled.

No, she really wrote that…and it was intended to be sincere.1

What made it even better is that someone commented:

That is a turkey.

To which she replied:

It’s a rooster. A huge cock

Ah, I love the smell of innuendos in the morning.

(slurps coffee)

 

1 – I know this because a) it’s on a public work Facebook channel, and b) innuendos aren’t her thing….believe me!

My brain filter may need some work.

Being a Brit living in America is, mostly, pretty easy.

The main issue I have (other than the stupid way they format their dates, their driving, their TV, their….well, you get my point) is filtering my disgusting and yet hilarious brain from reacting when I find something funny that others REALLY won’t.

After all, offending someone over here is as difficult as fist fighting a baby.

These moments of internal hilarity involve things like growlers, double-fisting and, more recently, this sign I saw on a colleagues desk that was clearly meant to be heartwarming…

You know what’s coming…

It took all my willpower not to put a note on it that reads:

“So are your wife’s tits”.

Does that make me a bad person?

The chronicles of Squid-dick

I know, I know….I haven’t posted anything recently and I’m sorry. Although, weirdly, I’ve had more email subscriptions in the last few weeks than a Nigerian prince has in a year.

Hmm.

Anyway, not one to complain, I thought I’d share a conversation I literally overheard at work about 10 minutes ago.

The names have been changed to protect the innocent.1

Dumbelina – “Hey, Tarquin! What’s the name of the ramen place we’re going to later?”

Tarquin popped his head up from behind his computer, clearly preoccupied with something he was watching or masturbating to.

“What?”

“The ramen place.”, she continued.

Tarquin stopped for a beat and blinked twice; “What ramen place?”

“The one we’re going to at lunch.”

Tarquin paused again, desperately tring to cling to a conversation he was clearly not understanding.

“What about it?”, he replied, rapidly losing wood.

“What’s the name of it?”

“Oh…”, he said, finally getting a grasp of the conversation, now that he no longer had anything substantial to grasp, “…I think it’s called [insert the name of the ramen place here because I can’t remember it for the life of me!]”

“OK, thanks T-Dog2; I just wanted to have a look at the menu.”

“Uh huh”, he mumbled as he went back to whatever it was he was doing to himself.

There was a brief silence, punctuated only with the tapping of keys and the faint clicking of a mouse button.

“Ah, here it is”, muttered Thumbelina as she found the website.

> click <

Pause

> click <

A longer pause (Jesus, some people surf the internet slower than a sloth wearing a heavy backpack, trekking through deep snow, wearing flippers)

“What the hell is this?”, she half said to herself, but I suspected was intended for those around her (including me) to ask, ‘What’s that?’.

No-one did.

She continued clicking.

“Deep fried octopus balls??”

I choked on my coffee.

“Ha ha ha…er, excuse me; sorry!”, I said through caffeinated coughing.

Now having an audience, she attempted to engage me in conversation, “Right?? Octopus balls!”

“Ha, yeah right”, I said wryly as I continued checking Facebook – er, I mean continued working – realising I had a blog post happening right now….live! I smiled to myself as I wondered what she would say next. Would that be it? Would that be the only amusing thing she’d say about the menu from ‘that ramen place’?

Nope.

She continued down the list muttering the occasional ‘Oh’, and ‘Eeuw’ before exclaiming, “Ooh, french fries!”.

Maybe the ramen place is called McDonalds?

“Tarquin, they have french fries! Oh wow, they have french fries with gravy!”

Tarquin didn’t care. He was laid back in his chair, sweating, and smoking a cigarette.3

We’ve all been there

1 – Stupid
2 – OK, maybe I’m embellishing here a little bit.
3 – See 2

A sign of things to comma

Yes, yes, I know it’s been a while since I posted something.

Work has been really busy lately as I was recently promoted (small smattering of applause can be heard somewhere at the back, followed by a hacking dry cough and a murmuring to just ‘get on with it’), so I haven’t had a lot of time to put fingers on keyboard.

However, I can find 5 minutes to share this little moment of sheer joy.

So I arrived at the office this morning and noticed this small sign on someone’s desk.

Some of you can probably see where this is going

Now, for clarity, this ‘someone’ is the head of a department. Like, he’s WAY up there in the echelons of senior management, and this sign is clearly a visual aid to encourage energy, teamwork and whatever he feels necessitates this sign.

But….

Being the Grammar-Nazi I am, couldn’t help myself!

Ah, the humble comma; how we miss you.

In this context, it’s not so much a visual aid than a visual impairment, depending on your aim.

But I’m sure he’ll see the funny side of this and will be fine with me mocking his grammatical oversight, plus….

…I don’t want to rub it in.

Aaaahthankyou!