A very ‘British’ cup of coffee

I’m currently at work and I’ve just been to make myself a mug of coffee.

Here’s what happened.

I poured the coffee, added sweetener (I try and avoid sugar from a health point of view, despite the fact that sweetener is nothing but chemicals…but hey, less calories right?), and opened the fridge to get a carton of milk.

One of my colleagues was pouring herself a coffee, saw me add the milk to my coffee and said “How very British”.

I looked at my coffee confused for a moment, then at her, then back to my coffee. What’s very British?  Coffee?  Er, I think you’ll find that’s a very American thing.

Then she placed her cup under one of these bad boys…

CoffeeMate

…and starting pumping her beverage with Hazelnut…erm…’cream’?  Is it cream?

(Shrugs) Who knows?

I smiled at her as she pumped 6 doses of this stuff into her coffee and said “I used to use that until I saw the calorie content.  That’s why I went back to using milk”

She looked at me blankly for a moment.  I couldn’t tell if she was trying to comprehend what I’d said or if she was recuperating from having to count all the way up to 6.

She eventually replied with “And you guys put milk in your tea, right?” as she curled up her nose in disgust.

“Yes we do.  Actually it’s only you guys who don’t”, I said, a little defensively.

There was a pause.

“Yeah”.

She had clearly lost her way in this conversation and went back to stirring her mug of Hazelnut ‘cream’ with a bit of coffee in it.

As I walked away I turned back, smiled, and said, “Tea with milk is epic”.

She laughed.

I don’t know why.

I don’t think she knew either.

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

Don’t ask…

My wife is ill.

Living in America I should really say ‘my wife is sick’, but I can’t use that sentence without wanting to add ‘and twisted’ on the end.

So….my wife is ill.

Very ill actually.

She has spent most of the day – and last night – coughing, sneezing, throwing up and sporting a high temperature.  What’s even worse is the fact I had to cancel our 6:20pm showing of Star Wars: The Force Awakens.

It’s such an emotional time.

Unfortunately I couldn’t cancel the tickets online with the same ease I booked them, so I had to put on outside clothing and drive to the cinema.

Sorry, ‘Movie Theatre’.

Sorry, ‘Movie Theater

(rolls eyes)

After a 35 minute drive I arrived at the cinema and headed into the noisy, bustling foyer.  I navigated the slow, shuffling popcorn munching morons and made a beeline for the box office desk.

The young girl behind the (bulletproof?) glass called me over and I pushed my pre-printed ticket under the glass towards her.

“I need to cancel these tickets; my wife is sick (and twisted) and so we can’t make the 6:30 showing”.

She smiled, took my tickets and proceeded to scan stuff and type things on her tiny little keyboard.

After a few seconds she said, “So I have to ask, where are you from?”

Did you have to ask?

“From Vegas, born and bred” I replied, with a smile.

She looked at me blankly, an emotion came across her face (ooer!) which I can only describe as bemusement.  No, wait….confusion; the word is confusion.

I decided to help her out.

“Just kidding, I’m originally from the UK”.

She smiled (out of relief mostly) and what followed were the usual questions of “How do you like it here?” and “How is it different from the UK?” etc.

After a minute or so of “I don’t miss the clouds and rain” and “Well, the TV over here sucks” she smiled again at me and slipped me my refund receipt.

Before I could thank her and leave, she hit me with this one…

“Let me ask you one more question; since you’ve been here what stereotype of Americans have you found not to be true?”

Wow, this was an interesting one.  Where do I start?

Actually, where DO I start?  I couldn’t think of a single stereotype off the top of my head and here I had this young girl smiling at me, expecting an answer…..an honest answer.

Naturally.

So I went with the most common stereotype; the one that is synonymous with Americans, known the world over.

“Well, there’s the stereotype that Americans are stupid…” I began.

Her face dropped.

The foyer fell silent.

I felt like that out of town stranger who had walked into a saloon in the Old West.  Even the popcorn had stopped mid-pop.

She looked mortified and started spouting some bollocks about the revolutionary war and the fact that it was actually the English fighting the English or something.  I tuned out to be honest.

Hey, she asked the question.  Be prepared for the answer.  Well, half the answer in this case.

Before I could say that I found that stereotype to be (mostly) untrue, she looked behind me and said “Next please”.

Oh dear.  Touch a nerve did I?

As I got in my car I smiled to myself as I nearly said, ‘Americans are very easily offended’.

Cunt.

See?

ron offended

Wait, she DID ask for an American stereotype that I had found not to be true…right?

Right?

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?

Stop, America….just stop.

Last night I had an encounter with a driver that infuriated me.  It’s something that happens a lot and pisses me off to a level that is unwise in a country where guns are so readily available.

Ladies and gentlemen, this is a warning; today’s post is a rant.

Ok, so….this encounter last night involved a 4-way stop junction which, in my opinion, are as effective as chipotle flavoured hemorrhoid cream.

Why the fuck can’t Americans just use roundabouts (sorry ‘traffic circles’) to maintain the flow of traffic like sensible countries? Oh yes, that’s right, apparently they’re ‘confusing’ and Americans don’t know how to use them.

I suppose I can understand that.  It’s a circle.  Very confusing.

After all, they have to simultaneously use TWO pedals AND a steering wheel; how could we possibly expect them to navigate anything other than a huge, wide straight road?

What was I thinking?

Now, for those who don’t know, a 4-way stop has two simple rules; The Stupid Rule and The Vague Rule.

The Stupid Rule dictates that you MUST stop, even when you can see there are no cars coming for miles and miles and miles.

crossroads

Add to this the fact that 4-way stops are at almost every intersection, it makes for a very jerky drive.

Stop.  Start.  Stop.  Start.  Stop.  Start.  Stop.  Start.  Stop.  Start.  Stop.  Ad nauseum

It takes forever to get anywhere.  And don’t even get me started on the speed limits.

I use the word ‘speed’ liberally, of course.

Then there’s The Vague Rule; it dictates who gets to go first.  You see, it all depends on who got to the intersection first.  If you’re there first, you go first.

That makes sense, right?

This never results in bell-ends (no US translation for this one) speeding up to get there seconds before you do, just so they can go first.

Never.

Ever!

However, there is one distinct fault with this rule; one that was never taken into consideration when it was apparently concocted by chimps.

People.

It didn’t factor in the sheer stupidity that people bring to the mix.

Most of the time it’s pretty easy to see who gets to the junction before or after you.  If they’re stationary when you arrive, they got there first.  Otherwise it’s you.

And yet, despite being easy to establish the pecking order pretty sharpish (quickly), there are still those tentative, hesitant, dribbly twats who get there before you and then don’t move, resulting in me and all the other twitchy cars wondering what they’re doing and if we should just go.

I’m pretty sure I’m not the only driver shouting words of encouragement like: “GO then, you fucking turd”

In those situations I just go.

Fuck ’em.

So, was it one of these idiots I encountered last night?  Oh no dear sir, it most certainly was not.

No, last night was a whole new level of dumbfuckery.

Now, before I continue, I have a little quiz for you.

Ready?

Question 1:  Which indicator (turn signal) do you use when turning left?

A – Left indicator

B – Right indicator

C – Both indicators

D – No indicators

Question 2:  Which indicator (turn signal) do you use when turning right?

A – Left indicator

B – Right indicator

C – Both indicators

D – No indicators

Question 3:  Which indicator (turn signal) do you use when going straight ahead?

A – Left indicator

B – Right indicator

C – Both indicators

D – No indicators

The answers are: 1-A, 2-B and 3-D.

If you scored less than 100%, please click here.

Otherwise, please continue reading.

So now’s the time for me to set the scene for last night.

I approached the 4-way stop, slowed down and stopped.  The car coming in the opposite direction did exactly the same, a second before me.  There were no cars coming from the left or right.

It was just the two of us.

According to The Vague Rule, he had the right to enter the intersection before me.  He didn’t have any indicators flashing, so he was going straight ahead, just like me.

Naturally, I entered the intersection at the same time as him because, after all, we were simply going to pass each other.  Right?

Wrong.

This cocksmoker was turning left.

This meant he had to stop IN the intersection and wait for me to pass, making sure I could see ‘the error of my ways’ by slamming on his brakes and giving me that look to say I was in the wrong.

At least, that’s what I think he was doing, it was difficult to see past the limbs of his kids splatted against the windscreen (windshield).

How the fuck was I supposed to know he was turning left?

I know why I got that look; it was that ingrained sense of entitlement.  It was HIS turn to go.

Regardless of whether his maneuver interfered with mine or not, it was HIS turn.

sulk cart

I should sit there like a good little boy and wait.

Not this little boy.

This little boy wanted to get out of his little car and punch him in his little dick.

Why do people here have such an inability to signal which direction they’re turning?

My wife tells me that Las Vegas drivers are the worst, but some of the people I work with – who come from all over the US – say it’s a nationwide epidemic.  I’m starting to believe them.

It’s not like they’re driving manual cars over here.  They’re not having to negotiate the clutch, the gearstick, the biting point, etc…  In fact, UK drivers have all that shit to deal with AND they still manage to use their indicators.

No, here it’s a different distraction.  With their free hand they’re either texting, sipping coffee or masturbating.

Like me.

Thanksgiving…it’s not British don’t you know?

Today is Thanksgiving.

I’m at work.

“What??”, I hear you cry.

“On Thanksgiving!!??”, you continue.

But let’s be honest here, I’m English; I don’t give a shit about Thanksgiving.

It’s not that I dislike it or anything, but it’s just not something that’s been in my life, like tampons.

It’s there, and I’ve seen it on TV a lot, but that’s for someone else to deal with.

Plus, my side of the family are a little over 5100 miles away in England so we wouldn’t have been together anyway, enjoying a holiday none of us celebrates based on something that never happened in the UK and is entirely America in origin.

You’ll be surprised how many people have asked me if we celebrate Thanksgiving in the UK.

(shakes head sadly at the state of the education system)

It also baffles me why Americans think we celebrate the 4th of July over there too.

I suppose, if they celebrate St. Patrick’s Day (Irish) and Halloween (Celtic), why wouldn’t we celebrate Independence Day?  After all, it’s a holiday that commemorates the United States’ independence from the British Empire.

missing you

Sounds a hoot.

In fact, I think I’m supposed to be offended.

But I’m not, because I don’t care.

Tampons.

The only 4th I celebrate is Star Wars day in May.  The nerd in me loves the pun.

To be honest, I seriously believe that no-one here knows why they celebrate the 4th of July, only that it has something to do with Will Smith.

will the fuck

High on caffeine and as slow as hell

I want to take a moment to look at the word ‘Entitled’.

It’s a common word of which I’m sure you’re familiar.  If you’re not, here’s a dictionary  definition:

verb (used with object), entitled, entitling.
– to give (a person or thing) a title, right, or claim to something; furnish with grounds for laying  claim.

Well, in America, this ‘right’ or ‘claim’ seems to extend to all those walking Bags Of Pus Filled Shit we called pedestrians (or BOPFS for short). 

Now, I’m being very specific here; I’m not referring to people in general – of which I have varying levels of tolerance – but I am instead talking about people when they’re in the role of ‘inconsiderate prick’.

As a human being (barely) I have been a pedestrian many times in my life, and there are certain unwritten rules of pedestrianism (is that a word?) that should be adhered to.  These aren’t complicated rules taught in schools or training courses, they’re just common sense rules laced with decency, common sense and manners.

It’s also inevitable that these rules vary slightly in the US than they do in the UK, but surely not enough to send this calm(ish) Brit into a seething rage on a daily basis?

Oh yes, they do.

You see, there’s something that BOPFS do here that really pisses me off.  It’s something so fucking infuriating it makes me want to smash the bonnet [hood] of my car into their soft fleshy bodies at high speeds; sending their stupid twatty faces (and Starbucks) up in the air whilst I let out a maniacal laugh that sounds like a donkey with its cock stuck in a milking machine.

What is this thing?

Entitlement.

In America, a BOPFS will just walk out in front of you without looking.  Now, I can forgive a  momentary lapse of concentration when crossing in front of a car (maybe you’re reading some awesome blog on your phone), but this happens everywhere, all the time.

In America, like the rest of the world, pedestrians always have the right of way, but that doesn’t mean you have to be a festering dick about it.

In the UK if someone is crossing the street at a non-allocated crossing[1], they will do it quickly so as to not disrupt the flow of traffic.  In a car park [parking lot] they will move even quicker, often smiling and raising a hand to say ‘thank-you’.

Courteous.

Well mannered.

Awesome.

In America you’re lucky if the person acknowledges you at all.  They simple walk – no, I’m not going  to use the word ‘walk; that implies speed – they AMBLE out in front of you.

They KNOW you’re there but still they walk out like they own the fucking road and often proceed to slow down.

tht snail

What makes it worse is that some of them walk at an angle so they’re walking in the same direction as you like a Funeral Conductor walking in front of my car.

My car isn’t a Hearse.

Although soon it might be.

Plus, my car is white, with the potential for a lot of sudden red.

And brown.

Don’t forget the Starbucks.

I can’t believe people here have the nerve to abuse their ‘right of way’ entitlement to this extent.  It makes me want to abuse my ‘go to jail for murder’ entitlement.

Fuckers.

These people shouldn’t mess with large and dangerous killing machines, especially when they’re behind the wheel of a car.

I should drive around them and then stop in their path, and then when they attempt to walk around me I should keep blocking them.

Not Touching

My father in law said a woman once stopped in front of his car and proceeded to adjust her toddler’s clothing while he just sat there, unable to proceed.  Apparently she couldn’t walk the last few feet and do it to one side.

All this in a nation that allows guns.

And this got me thinking about Red Bull.

(“Eh?” says the reader).

There seems to be an epidemic of energy drinks in the USA.  People are seriously hooked on them.  The standard can of Red Bull is basically sugar and caffeine.  Add to this that a lot of people drink these back to back throughout the day. That’s a lot of caffeine.

11806581

By rights, people should be walking  around like an old black and white silent movie!

So taking this into consideration, why are they all walking so fucking slow in front of my car?

I hear Red Bull gives you wings.

So will I.

angels

[1] ‘jay walking’ isn’t a thing in the UK.  If you want to get to the other side of the road, you just cross…the…road.  You don’t have to walk 3 miles to an allocated crossing so you can cross the road and walk the 3 miles back to the place where you wanted to be.

Come hell or high water

Did you know that American toilets contain more ‘bowl water’ than those in the UK?

No?

Here’s a British toilet.

toilet bowl uk

Here’s an American toilet.

Detroit postcard

Oops! Sorry, HERE’S an American toilet!

toilet us

Now, this might seem like a pointless waste of water, but I think the Americans are onto something here.

Firstly, no splashback.

Genius.

You’d have to drop a turd the size of King Kong’s finger to generate enough downforce to splash your arse [ass] in this country.

Secondly, and most brilliantly, no skidmarks.  Not one.

In fact, I don’t think I’ve seen a single Zebra patterned toilet bowl since I’ve been here.  I don’t even think it’s possible to create them.

Challenge accepted.

Pass me the bran.

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

Crisps vs. Chips; a story with flavo(u)r

A couple of weeks ago I posted a little amusing event involving crisps [or ‘chips’ as the Americans call them].

Since then I’ve written a few other posts and the subject of crisps hasn’t entered my head at all.  In fact I haven’t given them a second thought and instead have focused on compiling a multitude of notes and scribblings about other non-crisp related things.

Well, I noticed the other night – whilst shopping in Walmart with the wife – that there is a radical difference in the flavours [flavors] of the crisps [chips] on offer in the USA [USA….oh, wait, that’s the same.  Never mind].

With the sheer abundance of crisps [chi….oh you get the point] in America I thought there would be a massive variety of flavours too.

But no.

Now, before I go ‘full rant’, I want to preface this post by saying that I’m not talking about specialist flavours of crisps like Jalapeño and Lime, Sea Bass, Garlic Snails or Children’s Tears…no I’m reserving this for the everyday flavours you expect from your everyday crisps, every day.

Make sense?

Good.

Now, I want to quickly talk about Doritos.  When it comes to Doritos, the flavours are pretty much the same in both the UK and the USA.

Having said that, ‘Cool Ranch’ in the USA is somehow called ‘Cool Original’ in the UK because, apparently, the English aren’t able to comprehend what Ranch is.

Admittedly we’re not like the Americans who worship and bathe in the stuff like Cleopatra did in milk, but we know what Ranch is!

We have it as a salad dressing.

Also, ‘Cool Original’ as a name makes no sense.  It implies that this was the first ‘original’ flavour to be released when they hit the UK, but in fact they were accompanied by Tangy Cheese and Lightly Salted (thanks for the clarity Doritos, I’ll look elsewhere for ‘Heavily Salted’ shall I?).

Also, the word ‘cool’ suggests these corn snacks are somehow hip and trendy.  That’s just a bit weird.

It makes so much sense when they’re ‘Cool Ranch’ because, well, Ranch is cool.

Like bow-ties.

Also, the variety of Doritos flavours in the UK are almost identical to those in the USA, except for Nacho Cheese. How is that different to Tangy Cheese? Tell me America, how?

But as far as general flavours on other brands of crisps are concerned, there are significant differences.

In the UK, the general flavours you will find – over several different types of brands – are:

  • Ready Salted
  • Cheese and Onion
  • Salt and Vinegar
  • Cheese
  • Crispy Bacon
  • Beef and Onion
  • Prawn Cocktail
  • Pickled Onion
  • Hot and Spicy
  • Barbecue
  • Marmite
  • Worcester Sauce
  • Roast Chicken

We even went crazy and had limited edition flavours like Tomato Ketchup, Fish and Chips, Sausage and Egg and Hedgehog.

Yes, Hedgehog.

Seriously.

In the USA there are hundreds of brands across different styles all offering this wide variety of flavours:

  • Salt
  • Salt and Lime
  • Salt and Vinegar
  • Barbecue
  • Cheese
  • Barbecue Cheese
  • Hot and Spicy
  • Hot and Spicy Barbecue
  • Hot and Spicy Cheese

Are you noticing a pattern here?

I see these huge aisles of crisps in the supermarket and I get excited only to find it’s either salt, cheese and barbecue OR the hot and spicy versions of salt, cheese and barbecue.

Don’t get me wrong, there ARE exotic flavours like Jalapeño Lime and Garlic Bread, but we have those in England too and I consider these to be specialist, exotic flavours.

Where America gets it right though is with Pringles.

In the UK we have a few flavours, but in America there are SO many more.  Here are a small selection of the ones that have made me stop in my tracks and buy them:

  • Wasabi and Soy Sauce
  • Buffalo Wing
  • Honey Mustard
  • Mango Salsa
  • Dill Pickle
  • Cinnamon Sugar
  • Pizza
  • Loaded Baked Potato
  • Salsa De Chili Habanero

And there are a lot more, but these are the ones I’ve seen so far. I shudder to think what else they have in the works.  Probably Hot and Spicy versions of each.

Now we just need to work on getting some UK classics over here.

tara bath of crisps

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

Gymnauseum

It’s been a little over two weeks since the move to Las Vegas from sunny (ha!) Crawley in the UK.  In that time I have compiled notes on a million[1] things I want to write about but I have to resist otherwise i’ll be posting two or three times a day, and that’s a bit too much to deal with; like the Kardashians.

As an update on the important things over here, I secured a job on Tuesday[2] with a small, unassuming multi-million dollar company[3] AND obtained my full 8 year driving licence [license].  I may write separate posts about those, but for now I use those memories to aid in masturbation.

On this post I want to share my observations of the gym here in Las Vegas.

I’ve been to gyms all across the country in the UK and now that i’ve moved to the USA I’ve noticed a difference in the calibre [caliber] of people that go.

In the UK the average person in the gym looks a little something like this:

average man ukwoman workout ukman weights uk

woman weights uk

Which is fair enough, right?

But in the USA, they’re like this:

Sm bodybuildKatrinka Danielson - fit

us rippedJessie Hilgenberg - fit

Or this.

grandma gymweightlifting

Seriously this is a thing here.

It all makes me feel a bit….

how i feel

 

[1] Not literally.  Maybe six; possibly five.

[2] Today is Thursday, not that you care.

[3] Woo hoo!!  Yeah!! (does a little dance)

Yanky wank

It’s been a while since I’ve blogged anything…and this is primarily due to being in Las Vegas for the last week or so.

Never a bad thing.

The main reason for the visit was a stag do, but this soon became one of two reasons as my trip was extended so I could spend time with a gorgeous woman I’d met on my last visit back in March.

Despite the fact we’d emailed a lot, facebooked a lot and Skyped a lot, whenever I told people why I was extending my trip it was always met with a big twatty grin, eyebrows on bungee ropes and comments like “wahey!”, “I just bet you are!” and “get in there sunshine!”

These were sometimes accompanied with a nudging elbow to the ribs.

But I’m not going to into that (pun intended?)

So anyway…

Whilst on the stag do we were stood in the hotel discussing the toilet facilities in America; particularly how wide the gap is between the stall doors and the stall itself.

See https://headinablender.wordpress.com/2012/12/11/bathroom-rage/

It was at this point that one of the guys said, “I know; it makes it almost impossible to have a wank”.

I laughed so violently I actually needed to visit these generously gapped rooms of self relief myself!

His answer was worryingly quick and casual.

And to think I shook his hand at the end of the trip.