I Need My Meds!!

Valium

My OCD about proper, correct English usage nearly gnawed its way out of my thick skull. My automatic proof-reader was on angel dust, and my internal editor was having heart palpitations.

Shortly after I composed my Blog – How to be taken seriously, I found this post. The writer is an example of an English redneck. If this guy were living in the US, he’d be wearing a MAGA hat, and helping Trump build a wall.

Since he states that he is English, to have his racist screed taken seriously, it would really help if he could write it in The Queen’s English. I only downloaded the title, which is what caught my attention, and the first two paragraphs. It continued to offend my eye and my sensibilities for another illiterate, rambling three paragraphs. I stopped counting the errors after about 100. I couldn’t see them all, through my tears.

Here it is, with most, but not necessarily all, the errors highlighted.

Their our to many Pakistans in my town Luton too ignore its time to take are country back now!

By Timmy Rodinson

Im going too explain this in the most simplest of ways too make you understand what is really going on in are nation right: I was born in england and that makes me english and a british because I am british. If your a muslim your a muslim so it doesn’t matter were you were born in because your a muslim. its as simple as this. so if your an islamist muslim you are not and can never be english or british no matter where your born because you are not from english history and your taking are identity to make islamist

suicide bombers who you are giving birth too and were not going to stand for it any longer we our taking back are country from you sick violent muslim imigrants. its as simple as this. that does not make me a racialist that makes me proud to be from a country that does’nt send people to other countrys to bomb millions of inocent people like has been happening in france and europe and there our just not enough people speaking up for peoples who want’s for are people to live in a country that is’nt run by shuria laws that are from rapist genocidal ideilogy. its as simple as this. your not british and you should leave to your muslim homeland in pakistan or iran or suadi arabia were you’re religion’s are from.

He certainly made me take him seriously…. Seriously disturbed! Oy, learn correct spelling and punctuation and language construction, then we can clearly communicate our distaste for your racist ramblings. Seriously Tommy, you’re giving soccer hooligans a bad name.  🙄

This post is only about how upset I am with his misusage and mangling of my Mother Tongue.  I’ll leave his social and political views for another day.  Feel free to comment about them, though.  😯

 

WOW #41

Bistro

I don’t like English words that aren’t really, wholly, completely accepted and widely used English words.  I know that the English Language appropriates words from other tongues, wholesale, but I don’t like words like tsuris, which is a seldom-used Yiddish/Hebrew word, meaning troubles, or woe.

I’m not pretentious enough to use the Word Of this Week, which is

BISTRO

but if I did, I’d have regarded it as an artsy-fartsy, café-au-lait sipping, croissant-munching, Left-Bank Parisian Frog French word which does not fall trippingly from the mouths of most Americans or Canadians…. until I did a little recent research.

It seems that bistro’s ancestor was a common-man, dock-walloper word that would have been familiar to any MAGA who supports Trump.  The Seine River that Paris sits on is large enough for small ships to navigate upstream, to unload their cargoes.

Once upon a history, France and Russia used to do a lot of trading.  Roustabout Russian sailors used to be common on Paris docks.  When they paused for a quick noon-time meal, they would go to the many nearby restaurants/cafes to eat.  Time and tide wait for no man, especially the tide.  They needed to eat quickly, and get back to finish the job.

The food establishments, used to the French, laggard, laissez-faire lifestyle, were in no hurry to prepare or serve food to them, so it became common for them to shout at the kitchen/waiter, “Bistro, Bistro”, a Russian word that means hurry, rush, get a move on!

I still prefer a Burger King to a Bistro – unless you’re treating, in which case, please contact me at once.  We could have a lovely discussion about international trade, and Russian sailors’ tattoos.  😉  😆

Flash Fiction #172

Guano

PHOTO PROMPT © Jilly Funell

BIRD BRAIN

Pouter Pigeon

I think that my pouter pigeon would make a great presidential candidate.  He couldn’t be worse than the one we have now.

He could be the bird brain who struts around on his tiny hands feet, with his chest puffed out, thinking that he was God’s gift to all females.  He would be the unending source of incomprehensible tweets.

He’d constantly have Washington, and the world, all aflutter, and produce lots of unintelligible noise and great streams of bullshit guano.  Dab a little cheese sauce on his head, and the average American MAGA voter would elect him in a second.

***

Go to Rochelle’s Addicted to Purple site and use her Wednesday photo as a Prompt to write a complete 100 word story.

Friday Fictioneers