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)

Spelling Bee(yatch!)

The other day, whilst [while] walking down a supermarket aisle, I passed a couple having a quiet, yet heated conversation.

‘This should be interesting’, I thought, as I passed them….slowly.

“It’s e-a-t-E-n”, said the guy.

“Uh uh, no”, his other half said dismissively, “it’s e-a-t-A-n”.

“No baby, i’m telling you, it’s e-a-t-E-n”, he repeated with a slight chuckle in his voice.

This didn’t go down well with her.

Not well at all.

It was at this point she did that thing so many of my exes have done to me in the past when out in public; she raised her voice slightly in an attempt to embarrass her man in front of an audience….or, in this case, the slow, shuffling Brit who was taking far too much interest some nearby canned goods.

“Mmm-hmm, sure baby; whatever you say, but you is wrong![sic], she retorted, clearly convinced she wasn’t.

She was.

Besides, the correct spelling is ‘c-r-E-t-i-n’.

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.

 

No swearing please

I’m in the gym again as my inability to put on socks without a run up is getting on my tits. 

My man tits. 

So,  anyway,  there’s a notice in here warning against swearing. We have to ‘be mindful and considerate to others’. 

Of all the places to ban swearing,  you’d think the last place would be a gym full of big ‘manly’ men and women. 

Fuck me,  what a pussy whipped bunch of cunts. 

The influence of (s)laughter

This morning I came into work and one of the guys I work with asked me, “Hey, you know the word ‘Homie’; well, in England, do you say ‘Flatie’?”

picard palm

He looked proper proud of himself.  I think he’d been rehearsing that question all morning to be honest.

Anyway, after I’d finished laughing like a corpse, the subject turned to my blog.  It seems one of my colleagues had been reading it and absolutely loves it1.  It was at this point that the joker (let’s call him Castro) asked if his awesome joke would make it onto my blog.

For clarity, Castro is a 6’5″ Black dude, built like a brick shithouse with the ability to punch me in half.

Yes Castro….(gulp)….your joke made it into my blog.

(Please don’t hit me).

hulk-smash

 

1 And who can blame her?

No offense. Oh….wait….

As some of you will know, the over-censorship of media and entertainment in America really pisses me off.

I’m not a child.  I can handle the word ‘fuck’ in a movie filled with uncensored (and apparently child friendly) blood, gore, guts and violence.

Well, this morning as I drove into work I heard censorship on the radio that pushed censorship (and me) to the next level.

It happened during the song, ‘I Write Sins Not Tragedies’ by Panic At The Disco; it’s a great song with an incredibly catchy chorus.

The beginning of that chorus goes:

‘I chime in with a “Haven’t you people ever heard of closing the goddamn door?!”

No, it’s much better to face these kinds of things with a sense of poise and rationality’.

Guess which word was censored?

Yep, that’s right, the word ‘Goddamn’ was censored. The irony of that second line of lyrics was most definitely lost here.

I love this song, but the joy of singing along was ruined.

You see, in America religion is a big deal and it’s so easy to offend people.  I knew this was the case before coming in, but I had no idea it was this bad.  The phrase “went to church” comes up in more conversations than I’m comfortable with and a lot of my new friends here in the States are very religious.

This is something I have tended to find out when they casually mention going to church or they post something ‘God-ish’ on Facebook.  When this happens I get a real sense of dread because I have to think back over every conversation we’ve ever had.

Did I say something blasphemous or offensive?

Have I made jokes about God or Jesus?

Did I sacrifice that goat in front of them?

In fact, not 10 minutes ago, this very subject came up at work (not instigated by me, I hasten to add) and one of my colleagues said, “I swear a lot.  I use ‘Fuck’, ‘Shit’, ‘Asshole’ and all that, but if I use GD or JC, then you KNOW I’m pissed!”.

It took me a moment to figure out what she meant by GD and JC.  She couldn’t even bring herself to say the words.

To her, saying ‘God Damn’ or ‘Jesus Christ’ is worse than saying ‘Fuck’.

What the Goddamn?

Is it me, or does that seem a bit fucked…er, I mean, ‘Jesus-Christed’ up?  This would go some way towards explaining why the word ‘Goddamn’ was edited out of the song this morning.

A few months ago I said ‘Goddamn it’ at work and got told to watch my language.  I couldn’t believe it.  I was being scolded like a 7 year old by a woman I have heard swear numerous times.

I’ve even started to replace “Oh my God” with “Oh my goodness”.  I hate that I’ve started doing this.

But people here are way too sensitive, and the entertainment business knows this.  Out of fear of being sued,they’re pandering to the masses by censoring the shit out of television.

Unless the customer is paying for it of course.

Netflix anyone?

Nothing on Netflix is censored and I hear it’s a popular service[1].

So, is America OK with bad language, blasphemy and sexual content when they’re charged a premium?  Apparently so.

My wife pays a yearly subscription for something called XM radio in her car.  It’s pricey, but there’s little to no censorship.  It really expands the selection of music they play as they can air otherwise unplayable tracks and, being a premium service, there are no Goddamn, Jesus Christing commercials.

When it comes to TV, the UK have it right with censorship.  Everything is the same as the US until 9pm.  Well, I SAY it’s the same, but that’s not strictly true; they don’t play violent action movies on a Sunday afternoon when kids can see it.  But apparently it’s OK for kids to see heads being chopped off and people being riddled with bullets, as long as there’s no sign of a nipple or someone saying ‘Goddamn it’.

violent tv kids

At 9pm (or the ‘watershed’ as it’s called) it is assumed that your delicate little snowflakes are all tucked up in bed.  After that, it’s the parents’ responsibility to manage what their kids watch.

At 9pm, all bets are off.  The only word that is bleeped out is the word ‘Cunt’.

Sorry; ‘the C word’.

After 9pm, TV is for adults and if you’re easily offended, change the channel.

blasphemy

 

[1] Sarcasm, in case you didn’t realise it.

Spelling it out really doesn’t help me.

I haven’t really put pen to paper – or fingers to keyboard – recently and this is due to two simple factors:

  1. I have recently started a new job at the company I work for and have therefore been preoccupied with not fucking it up.
  2. I procrastinate more than (note – come back and add example here)

This isn’t to say I haven’t been making notes of life events; I have.  It’s just a case of sitting my arse down and actually writing something.

The irony is, I actually started drafting this post…got sidetracked…and in the meantime posted something else entirely.  Well, now I’ve decided to sit down and at least attempt to finish this entry.

To manage your expectations, this isn’t a big amusing moment in my life, but more of a mini-rant about a gripe that I never realised was a gripe until it began rearing its ugly gripey head.

And this isn’t the only gripe.  To be honest, there are a few small issues here in America that I simply wasn’t prepared for.  For example, America doesn’t seem to have a word for ‘peckish’.

I’m sorry….what?

I used it in a sentence the other day at work and was met with lot of blank faces.

No word for peckish?  Really?

That evening I went home and asked my wife if there was an American word for ‘peckish’ and all she could come up with was ‘a little bit hungry?’.  This astounds me in a nation that is known for being in a constant state of graze.

Saying ‘I could eat’ isn’t quite the same.

Also, another unexpected gripe is the fact that most people I’ve met can’t read the 24hr clock (or ‘Military Time’ as they call it here).  I’ve lost track of the amount of times I’ve seen them deducting 12 on their fingers and quitely mouthing the words.

“So, 17:00 is…(counting on fingers, under breath) 16:00, 15:00, 14:00, 13:00, 12:00, 11:00, 10:00, 09:00, 08:00, 07:00, 06:00, 5:00.  it’s 5pm, right?”

Amazing.

Admittedly I do remember struggling with this myself, when I was SEVEN.

Anyway, back to the case in point.

I speak to a lot of Americans on a daily basis at work and, more often than not, I need to take their email address.  This isn’t anything out of the unusual, except for the way they read out their email address.  It simply baffles me.

Me – “What’s your email address?”

Them – “D as in Dog, A as in Apple, V as in, erm, Van, E as in Everyday, S as in Sam, M as in, erm, Mary, I as in Insulin, T as in Tommy, H as in Happy”

 

Small pause.

 

Me – Sorry, you said that so quickly, so it was D for Delta, A for Alpha…”

Them – “No, A like Apple”.

Me – “What’s the diff….er, I mean, can you repeat it for me?”

Them – “D as in Dog, A as in Ask, V as in Vanessa, E as in Egg, S as in Sam, M as in Mary, I as in, erm, (Inbred? Idiot? Imbecile?) Illinois, T as in Tree, H as in Hello”

 

(Usually always completely different words from the first attempt).

 

Another pause.

 

Me – “So, ‘DaveSmith’ then?”

Them – “Yes”

Me – “Ok….?”

 

There usually follows an unnecessary pause while the customer assumes I magically know their email domain name.

 

Me – “And the rest of it?”

Them – “What?”

Me – “Davesmith…..at?

 

Longer pause whilst they try and understand that I’m not a fucking mind reader.

 

Them – “@gmail”

You’ll notice the lack of “.com”.  In the US, if they don’t say ‘.org’ or ‘.net’, then it’s an assumed ‘.com’.

This has caused me no end of problems when I give out my email as I still use my ‘.co.uk’ address.  This usually takes some explaining and is met with a blank, open mouthed stare.

Drool optional.

So this is my issue, why don’t the majority of Americans actually say their email as it’s written?  I could understand if it’s something like 15t8f725d54it4@blah.com, but it rarely is.

It’s usually something that can be read out like ‘davesmith’, ‘rockdude’ or something laughably awkward like ‘sexxychick’ or ‘hotmama’.

These last two are particularly interesting when you can hear little kids in the background.

Seriously love, have a different email address when you’re shopping; your poor husband must hate calling on your behalf and being asked for it.

At least I understand why HE prefers to spell it out rather than say it.

I was talking to my wife about this and she said a customer had given her “K for Knife”.  What next;  ‘P for Pneumonia’ or ‘J for Juan’?

Sometimes I try and help them out and they disagree with my suggestion.

Them – “P as in, erm…P as in….”

Me – “P for Peter?”

Them – “No, P as in….erm, Psalm!”

double facepalm

F as in Facepalm

You may have noticed, from the examples I’ve given, there appears to be no grasp of the phonetic alphabet here; at least the official one.

How do I know this?  Because it confuses the shit out of them when I use it.

For the uninitiated, the phonetic alphabet is:

A – Alpha
B – Bravo
C – Charlie
D – Delta
E – Echo
F – Foxtrot
G – Golf
H – Hotel
I – India
J – Juliet
K – Kilo
L – Lima
M – Mike
N – November
O – Oscar
P – Papa
Q – Quebec
R – Romeo
S – Sierra
T – Tango
U – Uniform
V – Victor
W – Whiskey
X – X-ray
Y – Yankee
Z – Zulu

Admittedly, I have spoken to a few people who have used the phonetic alphabet correctly and I’ve openly commended them for it.  It’s a nice refreshing change from the random selection of words I’ve heard.

Mind you, there are a few unofficial phonetics that seem to have become the standard, even thought they’re not.

These are:

B – Boy
M – Mary
N – Nancy
D – Dog

I hear these every time.

And yet, oddly, they don’t use C for Cat.

Hmm.

I have a C word they can use.

types of cat

Don’t interrupt…

I’ve noticed that a lot of my posts recently have been highlighting all the frustrations and annoyances of living in America.  It’s been very anti-USA and that’s not entirely fair

I do actually enjoy living here….there is so much about America that is awesome and I will share events when they arise. However, if I wrote about all the things I like about my new life, my posts would be less ranty and more unicorny and rainbowy.

So in keeping with the negative trend, I want to share something that really annoys me when speaking to an American customer over the phone.

Firstly, let me give you some context…

Let’s say a woman is calling our company to order a new jacket for her son.  She bought a jacket with us last year and wants the same one again but in a larger size.

Got it?

Good.

Now, in England, the conversation would go something like this…

 

Customer – “Hello, I’d like to ask you about a jacket for my son”.

Me – “Uh huh, OK”. (verbally nodding to demonstrate I’m listening)

Customer – “Now, I ordered this jacket from you last year…”

Me – “Mm Hmm”

Customer – “…but it’s too small for him now, so I wanted to check if you had the same one but in a larger size”.

Me – “Sure, no problem.  Let’s bring up your details so I can find the jacket from last year.  Do you have your account number?”

Customer – “Yes, my account number is 123…”

Me – “…123…”

Customer – “…456…”

Me – “…456…”

Customer – “…789…”

Me – “…789, thanks.  So your account number is 123456789?”

Customer – “Yes”

(Brings up account details)

 

Right, now here’s the same conversation with an American customer…

 

Customer – “Hello, I’d like to ask you about a jacket for my son”.

Me – “Uh huh, OK”. (still verbally nodding)

– Silence –

Me – “Hello?”

Customer – “No it’s OK; you go ahead”.

Me – “What? No, it’s OK.  I was just listening; you go ahead”.

Customer – “OK, so I ordered this jacket from you last year…”

Me – “Mm Hmm”

Customer – “Sorry, go ahead”.

Me – “No no, please continue”.

Customer – “OK, so I ordered this jacket from you last year but it’s too small for him now, so I wanted to check if you had the same one as before in a larger size”.

Me – “Sure, no problem.  Let’s bring up your details so I can find the jacket from last year.  Do you have your account number?”

Customer – “Yes”

– Silence –

Me – (rolls eyes) “So what’s your account number?”

Customer – “123…”

Me – “…123…”

– Silence –

Me – “Hello?”

Customer – “Yes, I’m here, go ahead”.

Me – “So you said it’s 123..”.

Customer – “…123…”

Me – “123123?”

Customer – “…456…”

Me – (getting annoyed now) “…yep…”

– Silence –

Me – “Go ahead”.

Customer – “No it’s OK, you go ahead”

Me – (through gritted teeth) “I need the rest of your account number, please continue”

Customer – “…789…”

Me – “…789, thanks.  So your account number is 123123456789?”

Customer – “Yes”

(No account details…unsurprisingly)

 

Farkin’ ‘ell!

Now, let me be clear, this isn’t the case with conversations face to face, this only happens over the phone.  If you so much as fart it spooks them like a deer in the headlights of common sense.

During a face to face conversation I don’t have people stopping mid sentence…unless I flop my cock out.

raise eyebrows

Getting it right on 01/01/16

Happy new year everyone!  Welcome to 2016!

It’s at this time of the year that America gets it right.  There are so many occasions where they get it oh so wrong…but not at new year.  No, this is the time they get it oh so right.

In fact, they get it right twelve times a year.

So what am I talking about?  Allow me to go off topic for a change.

There are a lot of things in life that have a natural progression; night follows day,Ernie follows Bert and things that ‘must come down’ follow ‘what goes up’…it’s just the way things are.

A lot of things are incremented based on their size.  Think about it.

  • X-Small / Small / Medium / Large / X-Large.
  • Baby / Child / Teenager / Adult.
  • Second / Minute / Hour.
  • Month / Day / Year.

Er, wait, what?  I’m sorry, did I just say Month / Day / Year?

Sorry, my mistake!  I can’t believe I said that!

What I meant to say was Day / Month / Year….obviously!  I mean, who puts the month before the day?

Oh yeah, America does.

In America, for some reason, they do it arse about face.  Not only do they write their dates in the wrong chronological order, they’re blissfully unaware of it.  In fact, whenever I have this conversation with my newfound American friends they look at me with genuine surprise and say “Really?”.

They have no idea.

When I first moved from England this caused me some confusion.  For example, today’s date in the UK is 02/01/15, but in America that’s considered the 1st of February.

How did this ever become a thing?  Was Yoda teaching in early American schools?

By US logic, 8:30pm should be written as 30:8pm, right?

Actually it should be written as 20:30 (or 30:20), but the 24hr clock (or ‘Military time’ as it’s called over here) seems to confuse most people too.  It’s practically a necessity to use ‘am’ and ‘pm’ to tell the time.

So, for twelve times a year they get it right.  The 1st of January, the 2nd of February, the 3rd of March etc… all read the same way in America as it does in most of the world.

For 12 times a year, correct America gets it.

date_format

 

The power of AI

Today’s post isn’t about a particular incident or experience that has happened to me recently.  Instead I want to comment on something that causes my eye to twitch.

twitchy eye

In order to do this, I need to highlight the power of the letter ‘i’.  Let’s do a little test.

Below will be a variety of words which change with the addition of the letter ‘i’, in both the meaning and pronunciation.  I want to focus on the latter.

If you’re feeling participative, or not in an awkward place like the toilet, mid coitus or at a funeral, then say these following words out loud.

Mad – Maid

Pal – Pail

Brad – Braid

Pad – Paid

Lad – Laid

Crag – Craig

Now, if you’re English, the ‘i’ infused words will have changed; the ‘ai’ now rhyming with Pay, Say or Day.  This would’ve been consistent across all these words.

If you’re American, you pronounced the last one as ‘Creg’.

Yes, ‘Creg’.

I have never understood why this is the case.  Like the words ‘herb’, ‘basel’ and ‘pasta’, the name ‘Craig’ is one of the words that America has difficulty pronouncing correctly, despite not being related to Italian cooking.

Prior to moving to America, the name Craig hadn’t been one I’d encountered much in my life.  I knew one at school and, other than him, the only other Craig I know of is the singer Craig David.

That’s it.

But in the USA, the name Craig (Creg) comes up a lot, not because I’ve met a lot of Craigs, but due to a small known website called Craigslist (Cregslist).  This means I get to hear ‘Creg’ on a lot of occasions.

Lucky me.

This is exacerbated by the fact that a major street in Las Vegas is also called Craig.  I cross that bastard every day.

So, by this logic, the name Meg should actually be spelt ‘Maig’ but it isn’t.  Yet, the name Megan is pronounced ‘Maigan’.

Twaits.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

And yes, I’m very aware that the word ‘Sad’ becomes ‘Said’….but let’s not talk about it, OK?

United States of Oblivious

I’ve noticed that some companies and brands in the USA have names and wording that could be considered…well…downright inappropriate and fucking hilarious in the UK.

Case in point…

image

Delicious, right?

Now, the dictionary definition of a growler is:
1. a person or thing that growls.
2. a small iceberg that rises little above the water.

To Americans, a growler is some kind of bottle with a handle that is usually used to hold beer.

image

A growler (snigger)

In England, the word ‘growler’ is slang for vagina.

Over here it’s entirely acceptable to say “Hey, check out her growler” without getting a slap.

In England it’s deemed a bad chat up line to use.

And it gets better.

In the UK we have a verb that is slang for, erm, ‘obtaining a beer foam moustache from partaking in a growler’, if you know what I mean.

image

Know what I mean? 😉

This verb is ‘Mott’.

For my English brethren who have ever seen Celebrity Juice on UK TV, you will have heard (and seen) Keith Lemon talk about ‘motting a lady’.

This is usually met with raucous laughter as he demonstrates it on one or more of his celebrity guests – more often for an American who has no idea what it means.

image

Mott mott mott!!

So imagine my joy at seeing these in Walmart last night.

image

Take a sip, you know you want to.

Although I do have some concerns about these.

image

What’s 9442 miles between friends?

This evening I went to Target which, to my English brethren across the pond, is like Woolworths used to be…but on steroids.

I found what I was looking for and made my way to the till (checkout). 

The guy at the till (checkout), upon hearing me speak, joined the slew of uncultured twats I’ve encountered since moving to America by asking, “So what part of Australia are you from?”

Here we go again.

He could’ve simply asked where I was from, but no; he thought he’d be clever and join the ranks of twattery by asking the question I’ve heard about a million times since I emigrated.

Even if I was from down under, would he have known the area? I doubt it. This guy probably couldn’t find his own arse with both hands. [¹]

It didn’t stop there. He went on to embarrass himself and his country further.

Here is an almost literal account of the entire conversation.

Him – “So what part of Australia are you from?”

Me – “Guess again”

There was a unnecessarily long pause.

Him – “New Zealand?”

Me – “Nope. Where else do they speak ENGLISH a lot?”

He paused again and really thought about it this time.

Him – “Scotland?”

I couldn’t believe it.

Me – “No. Think about it. Where is the most ENGLAND place you can think of that speaks ENGLISH?”

Him – “Well, there’s England but….”

I had to interrupt him. I didn’t want to know what level of ignorance was churning that sentence out of his mouth.

Me – “That’s right, England. I’m English”

He looked at me skeptically and turned to scan my goods though his till (checkout).

Him – “Huh, well you don’t sound English. You sound Australian”.

No I don’t; I sound English.
Do you know how I know I sound English? Because I’m English! That’s where I came from! The Australian accent is completely different.

I was warned that a majority of Yanks thinks we’re either Ozzies or Kiwis, when in fact we’re just Poms.

It amazes me how they can’t tell the difference and then, when corrected, proceed to ask me if I’m sure or – in the case of Captain Cretin tonight – dispute it.

Then, on cue, he decided to tell me about people he knows or is related to that once lived in England or he knew someone in England, or read about England in some book.

I’m pretty sure it wasn’t a fucking atlas.

image

[¹] Also down under

Are we speaking the same language?

OK, I’ve been in the USA for 7 weeks now and, as you can imagine, I’ve experienced quite a few differences between here and the UK.

I could talk at length about the lethal plug sockets that occasionally terrify you by sending out little sparks when you plug something into them, but I actually want to focus on something we all know is there, but I haven’t touched on it yet.

I’m talking about the differences in English and American-English.

usa uk language

This is causing me a little distress as I now work in an office where everyone spells the American way, or – as we English call it – the wrong way.  It’s exacerbated by the fact that every computer I use keeps telling me my spelling is wrong.  In fact, as I type this on my US bought laptop, I have a few red squiggly lines under perfectly spelt words like….well….’spelt’!

But it doesn’t stop there.

I have to live with the fact that they insist on dropping the ‘u’ from many words like ‘colour’, ‘flavour’ and ‘neighbour’ and then have the audacity (or is it ‘adacity’ America? Hmm?  Is it?  IS IT?) to tell me that the English actually inserted these rogue letters unnecessarily.

Apparently the ENGLISH made these amendments to the ENGLISH language that means it isn’t actually proper ENGLISH.

I beg your fucking pardon, mate??

Sorry, sorry, I got all English there!

Sorry.

I suppose I can’t be too dismissive of their version of our beloved language.  It’s a valid language after all, and it’s not like they’ve dropped the letter ‘o’ or anything.

American counts.

Another thing that’s causing me issues is the way they’ve changed words that end in ‘ise’ so they now end in ‘ize’; words like ‘summarise’ now becomes ‘summarize’ and ‘apologise’ becomes ‘apologize’.  It annoys me further that my fucking (sorry, ‘fcking’) laptop is putting red squiggly lines under the English versions of these words as i’m typing this.

Speaking of my laptop, I’ve noticed that American keyboards switch the ‘@’ symbol and the quotemarks (“”).  That hasn’t caused me to fuck up emails at all.  Not once.

Also, I don’t have a ‘£ ‘sign on my keyboard anymore.  I have to hold down the ‘Alt’ key and type 0163; not at all annoying when emailing the UK about monetary matters.

Anyway, I’ve had the conversation about the whole ‘ise’ versus ‘ize’ with my colleagues at work and they insist it’s because the end of the word sounds like it should end with a ‘z’ and not an ‘s’.  They look all smug and pleased with themselves right up until I ask them to spell ‘rise’.

It’s fun watching them try to come up with an answer like a man trying to quickly explain to a vet why he has half a ferret sticking out of his arse.

Sorry, ‘ass’.

Also, if they use the letter ‘ize’ to emphasise (sorry, ’emphasize’) the sound at the end of the word, how come they haven’t changed the word ‘surprise’?

Then there’s the classic one I always hear from both the Yanks and the Brits, the contentious word that is ‘Aluminium’.

Now, this isn’t an idiotic pronunciation of the same word akin to the Americans’ butchering of the word ‘herb’ by removing the ‘h’ and pronouncing it ‘erb’; this is actually the removal of the letter ‘i’ in the word so it’s effectively a different word.  Let me put them one above each other so you can see the difference.

A L U M I N I U M

A L U M I N U M

This one I can deal with.  I’m OK with it.  It’s spelt differently and will therefore be pronounced differently.

I even accept that the word ‘theatre’ is spelt ‘theater’ here, although I recently found out that a building that puts on plays is still a ‘theatre’ and a place that shows movies on the big screen is a ‘theater’.

Actually, fuck it, I take it back; the whole ‘theatre/theater’ thing is a load of bollocks.

But going back to what I was saying; I can also accept that Courgettes are Zucchinis, Aubergines are Eggplants, Coriander is Cilantro and Swede is Rutabaga.

Yes, Rutabaga.  That’s a real word; no red squiggly lines or anything on that one.

I’m also fine with a bonnet being a hood, a boot being a trunk, a wing being a fender and chips being fries whilst crisps are chips.

Confused yet?

Biscuits are cookies, taps are faucets, trainers are sneakers and mobile phones are cell phones.

It’s a fucking minefield I can tell you.

What I can’t accept is Pasta being pronounced ‘Paster’ and Basil being pronounced ‘Bayzel’.  Basil is also a man’s name and you get it right when it’s a man’s name and not a ‘erb.

These are the exact same words we use in England, so get it right America.  How hard can it be?  You also spell ‘Parmesan’ correctly, but then pronounce it (almost) the Italian way with a ‘g’ in it; ‘Parmigian’.

Bonkers.

Also, it’s ‘Autumn’, not ‘Fall’.  Where did this change come from?  Did someone point at the falling leaves, grunt the word “Fall” and it stuck?

We don’t call Summer, ‘Suntime’ or Winter, ‘Cold ‘n’ Wet’, so stop it.

Now.

And don’t get me started on ‘fanny’ and ‘growler’.  In American a fanny is your bum, and a growler is a type of large beer bottle.

In England, both words mean ‘vagina’.

Visits to micro-breweries have been interesting!

growler

But after all is said and done, I can’t chastise (spelt with an ‘ise’; no squiggly line) the Americans for their language.  I knew most of this before I moved here.

Except ‘rutabaga’.  No-one expected ‘rutabaga’.

I had seen enough US TV shows and movies to have an understanding of the differences in English and American-English.  It’s actually the differences in the language and the bizarre quirks that makes it all so interesting.

Sooner or later I may need to bite the bullet and start using American-English in my blog.  I haven’t decided yet if i’m going to, so let me know if you think I should or shouldn’t.

I’ve even started calling the last letter in the alphabet ‘zee’ rather than ‘zed’ as we do in England.  This wasn’t through choice though, this was a necessity.  If you say ‘zed’ here, it’s either not going to be understood, or someone will think you’re referring to their redneck uncle who married his sister.

Which come as no surprize.

pants

Coming live from Las Vegas!

I’ve made it!  I’m here!

I now live in Las frickin’ Vegas!

welcome to LV

What a massive cow shit of a difference from Crawley in England.

We arrived on Tuesday and it’s now Thursday, so I’ve had a little time to get my bearings.  I know I have a lot left to experience, but even in this short time I have some early observations that I want to share.These observations will be separated into three headings; Driving, Shopping and “Oh, you’re From England?”

The first of these is:

Driving

It all looks so easy.  The roads are about three times as wide as those in England, most of the cars are automatic and the speed limits are lower…so by rights it should all be smooth and easy.

Not so.

There are no road markings!  Ok, I exaggerate, there are a FEW road markings, but only a fraction of what I’m used to in England.  This makes junctions mildly terrifying.

Also, they don’t really make it clear that a lane is ending on the three lane road you’re on, despite the fact that the road doesn’t actually narrow in width.  For a guy like me who is used to specific lanes (WITH road markings), it gets a little unnerving that you’re now effectively driving on a lane and a half.

Then, out of nowhere, the lane you’re in suddenly becomes a mandatory left or right turn with minimal warning and you’re somehow expected to deal with it without impaling yourself on the massive 18 wheeler in the correct lane!

Over here it’s all about signage.  Small postage stamp sized signs with full sentences to read, positioned in obscure places tucked away out of your field of vision.  Well, except for ‘STOP’ signs; they’re EVERYWHERE!  In addition, they require a mandatory stop, even if you can see that there aren’t any cars coming for miles around.

These octagonal bastards are used a lot at four-way junctions (or ‘intersections’) where the rule is: ‘The first person who gets to the junction and stops is the first person who gets to go’.  I suppose it makes some kind of vague sense until you arrive at an intersection the exact same time as someone else; then it becomes some kind of weird Mexican stand off.

I miss simple ‘Give Way’ road markings.

give-way-road-marking

Then there are the traffic lights.  Where do I start?

In the UK they play a simple role; red for ‘Stop’ and green for ‘Go’ (with amber as the transition between them).  In Las Vegas they seem to have different rules depending on which junction you’re at, whether it’s a Thursday or if your star sign has the moon rising in Aquarius.

For example, you should stop at a red light if you’re turning right, right?  Nope, you CAN turn right at a red light, that is UNLESS the microscopic sign fifteen feet above you tells you ‘No turn on red’; that’s nearly caught me a few times.

Then if you’re turning left, you can obviously do so if the left arrow is green, and you can’t if it’s red….but if it’s flashing amber you can turn left providing the lofty sign says ‘Yield to Traffic’.  Surely that means you have to stay still and let traffic pass?  Nope, it means you can turn left providing it’s safe to do so.

traffic signal hell

Then there are flashing red lights that sometimes mean stop and sometimes mean there are lights ahead….or is that flashing amber?

Did I mention that if you’re in a lane designated for turning left or right, you STILL have to ensure your indicators are on.

Plus, the speed limits are laughable.  Near our house it’s a 35mph limit on a road the size of a UK dual carriageway, which is 60mph.  These are long, wide roads with plenty of room, so why so slow?

With the speed limits, Stop signs, unmarked roads and traffic lights from hell….it takes forever to get anywhere.

All this in a country where 32% of citizens own guns.

Still, one thing that the USA does do right with regards to motoring is the price of fuel and the fuel pumps that lock into place.

Although, if I hear Wiz Khalifa and Charlie Puth’s “When I See You Again” on the radio one more time, I’m going to make it 33%.

Shopping

One of the things I wasn’t looking forward to in the USA was the sheer magnitude of adverts (or ‘commercials’) on the TV.  Every 10 minutes, for 10 minutes.

I have to say the frequency of these interruptions is a bit annoying, but at least the adverts are better than those in the UK.  American commercials tend to be funnier and more upbeat.  Plus, hearing all the side effects of some miracle drug or another is just laughable.

‘Want to reduce your blood sugar?  Ask your doctor about Fuckitol.  Side effects may include dizziness, high blood pressure, impaired vision, rectal bleeding, the loss of one or more limbs, nasal collapse and excess navel hair.  So ask your doctor about Fuckitol today”

Now, I know this next thing has been covered a million times on a million blogs, but adding tax to your purchase at the cash register sucks!

This is mildly annoying when buying clothes and stuff, but we bought a laptop at Best Buy and I got stung for $26 extra when I came to pay for it.  At least in the UK you paid what it said on the label.  I miss that already!

Today we went to Barnes and Noble, which is America’s answer to Waterstones.  But that’s where the similarity ends.  This ‘bookshop’ had (in addition to books) Movies, toys, movie merchandise, a café and restrooms.  Yes, this bookshop had toilets!  It seems that almost every shop (or ‘store’) in Las Vegas has toilets.  This is where England gets it wrong.

No-one likes to shop on a full bladder (or bowel).  Well done America, you win with regards to retail.

“Oh, you’re From England?”

No matter where we’ve gone over the last 3 days, as soon as someone hears my accent I get asked where I’m from.

Most correctly guess England; some still think it’s Australia.

As soon as they learn that I’m from England, they tell me they have a cousin/uncle/sister in law that either lives in England/Wales/Ireland (pick one), or originally comes from there.

I don’t care.  Just give me my laptop.

My favourite (I can’t bring myself to use ‘favorite’ yet) encounter, however, was in Trader Joe’s; an organic and vastly overpriced supermarket.  The cashier was loving my “British accent” and asked me “Is it always foggy in England?”

foggy london

Yes, and Jack The Ripper still roams the streets of London.

Now, this is only after three days of being here.  God only knows what experiences I’ll have going forward.

I can’t wait to find out.

BLOOBLE FABWA SIBBLADOO

It’s my first day back in the office after a bank holiday weekend. Alas, I worked Saturday and Sunday but was able to do so from home.  This was great because I got to email and generate reports whilst only wearing pants and maybe a sock. Strangely it’s frowned upon when I do that in the office.

So this morning I am back on a train heading towards London, contemplating a much needed nap.  Then, out of nowhere, a young woman gets on and sits practically next to me talking… sorry… TALKING into her phone at great speed, without breaks or punctuation, in a language I don’t recognise.

That’s annoying.

If you’re going to disturb me and keep me awake at least have the decency to let me have a narrative I can mock you with.  Instead all I have is “CHAMBO LAPAMOOPOO DIBIDO BICHEDOOFIBBLE CHOOMA WOPPY BADUMOPA LIPU”

Hmm, pick the bones out of that one Dan….

It’s ok, i can still sleep through this. I CAN sleep through this.

“WABBADONG CHIBLOFANTA MISA BILOP PLOBBLE”

Come on Dan, you can sleep through this…..(eye starts to twitch)

“BAMSA FOOGLIN JIBBY JOBTOSH BIDDYBUDCHIMCHANG”

After a couple more stations of this shit, the door opens and….oh fuck, it’s the dipstick from my previous blog http://headinablender.wordpress.com/2013/05/02/suited-and-unmuted/ who decides to sit right in front of me.

I wonder if stripping to my pants and sock will make them fuck off and let me sleep? 

Let’s find out….

RahRah

What my grammar used to tell me….

The word is ‘Something’, not ‘Somethink’.

It’s never been ‘Somethink’, nor will it ever be ‘Somethink’, unless the sentence is someTHING like:

“a lot of people know how to pronounce words in their own language, whereas SOME THINK they do, but actually get it wrong”.