Just a little throwaway post from a day when I couldn’t convince the hamster in my head to get the wheel turning.
What language sounds the best?
Well, it won’t be any of the Asian languages. The yin-yang, sing-song speakers of those, all sound like geese, or like they’ve all had COVID, or like geese that have had COVID. African languages sound like they haven’t discovered vowels and consonants yet – just a bunch of boops and glottals, and clicks. R2-D2 might be Kenyan.
With all its multiple modifying word-endings, Spanish sounds like you’re being attacked with a verbal sub-machinegun – great, if you’ve got all day to wait for it. Latin is for medicine. Italian is for lovers. German is for training dogs. The Queen’s English is for pomp and circumstance. Arabic is for phlegm. Speakers sound as if they’re having an allergic reaction to dairy products…..CKHACKK! 😯
French is the language of diplomacy. Of course, that just means that French speakers can ramble on for days – weeks – months – years, without ever actually saying anything. French has some foolish constructions…. but the SOUND of it. Oooooh!!! If you doubt me, click to hear the Matrix Merovingian Curse.
What best describes your lifestyle – Sneakers, Dress Shoes, or Sandals?
None of the above.
My sneakers days are far behind me – and I called them ‘running shoes.’ The best I can accomplish now is a fast shuffle. When I say that I’m approaching 75, I mean years of age, not miles per hour. I’ve never been rich enough to be pretentious. Even when I worked in an office, my footwear was clean and functional, but hardly worth calling ‘dress shoes.’
I may not do what I do on my feet at any great speed, but I feel I need something on them to protect and support. Wearing sandals is just asking for foot injuries – and barely suppressed snickering and pointing.
I’d like a write-in vote – for boots. As I explained in my Suave – Sophisticated post, I’ve worn good, solid, round-toed boots whenever socially allowable, for over half a century. I’ll die with my boots on, and be buried in Boot Hill.
If your life were a book, what would the title be?
While I am reasonably intelligent, my social skills are somewhat lacking. The Pink Panther, or Johnny English could star in my “Sophisticated” post, but I wouldn’t even get a speaking part. If my life were a book, the title would probably be Dummies, For Dummies – and someone would have to explain it to me.
Oops! It’s already out. Can someone explain to me, why it’s already in print?? Did somebody see me coming…. AGAIN??! 😯 🙄
Fortunately for you, that’s all I have to say on these subjects. There’ll be another Masochists Anonymous meeting here in a couple of days. Sticks and stones may break my bones, but whips and chains excite me.