If only the English, would speak English! 😯
As the developed World continues to advance, we have more information which needs to be communicated in the same amount of time. The English language continues to adapts to that, and contract. Already, we have more time to discuss Kardashian perfume or underwear or MENSA-grade husbands, because English is reducing, with @hashtags, 140 character Tweets, and initialisms, like LOL, OMG, YOLO, BTW, IDK, and IMHO. Soon, we’ll be back to caveman grunts and arm-waving – Ungh, meat good! Beer cold!
Contrast this with busy, unchanging, polysyllabic languages like Italian or Spanish, which need to add suffixes for gender and number. Italian ‘spago’ is a string – no matter what that NYC restaurateur says. Many small strings (of pasta), is spaghetti. And even finer strings, is spaghettini.
A Spanish girl is a chica. A small girl, or a loving, linguistic diminutive for one, is a chiquita that you’d go bananas for. Chiquitita does not usually refer to an even younger child, but is often an affectionate nickname for a full-sized female. All those syllables!! 😯 To see (or hear) an old Nona at market with her string bag, sounds like a language machine-gun, firing at about 12 syllables a second, wearing out her tongue, and everyone else’s ears. Of course, her tongue will regenerate overnight – just ask any Italian husband.
Back in a time when English had a lot less to say, and all day to say it, was born the compound-word term
KICKIE-WICKIE
A witty, jocular, or ludicrous term for a wife, especially a critical or disrespectful one
supposedly another Shakespeare nonce-word, invented and first used in ‘All’s Well That Ends Well’.
Apparently he didn’t have time to also invent
Dumpy-frumpy
Slappy-happy
Punchy-wunchy, or
Bitchy-witchy
I had heard that it was a term invented by Scotsmen, while shepherds watched their flocks by night…. or whatever they were doing with/to sheep in the dark. They just took the term, and made it theirs.
Why do Scotsmen wear kilts?
So that sheep don’t hear the zippers. 😳
I’d like ewe to stop back again soon, for another group therapy session. 😉
Okie-dokie, then. 😉
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I am proud of my heritage, and my ancestors, but I am not blind to the failings of some of them. It gets cold and lonely on the moors. 😳
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Blog, blogger, blogista, blogitini, and blogatanini; object, subject, male subject, female subject, and who the hell knows, respectively. 😉
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OMG! 😉 😆
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Meat good, beer cold.
Is there really anything else we need to say?
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Yeah! You can take that vegan diet, and…. (Calm now) ….share it with your therapist! 😉 😳
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Another great post, although don’t you usually post a bunch of jokes on Mondays for your readers?
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Only every second Monday. The 26 alternate Mondays get me through a year of alphabet, A-To-Z Challenge. I’ve got lots more jokes ready for next Monday. 😆
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Thank ewe for posting another entertaining read on your bloggy-woggy. So many things to see (hear) here.
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See here! I appreciate that comment. 😀
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Laughing! (((o(*゚▽゚*)o))) Yes, I herd ewe! ᏊꈍꈊꈍᏊ
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My Grandfather (and Grandmother) didn’t herd ewes, but he was the ‘Keeper of the Patterns’ at the mill in Glasgow, where they wove tartans from the fleece. 😎
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That’s wooly great! (‘∀’●)
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