Been down so long it looks like up to me
Update: in an event chromatically related to the contents of this post, I think I might have left the stove on over night, since there are several nearby kitchen items which are now black but didn't used to be.
Confession time: I think I was accidentally very racist last week.
In Swedish class we were doing an exercise, going around the class, each person had to state a problem they had, and the rest of the class would suggest solutions. All in Swedish, of course.
The guy next to me, who's a bit of a joker, said his problem was that he had too many illegitimate children. I immediately responded with the solution "sell some of them into slavery", just because that's the kind of thing I say in situations like that (I had to ask Helena what the word for slavery was, turn's out it's "slaveri").
Then I noticed a few people round the class giving me strange looks. Then it occurred to me that the guy is black (It was Jonathan from Cameroon, cross-ref party pix), which perhaps pegs my slavery call a little low on the tact scale.
On the other hand, the fact that it took me several seconds to even make the connection that he was black kinda indicates that I'm not racist at all, like in that episode of South Park with the town flag.
He didn't seem to care, at any rate, and I'm hitting the town with him tonight.
Anyway, we'll all be black in the future.
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Well, I wrote that yesterday, and now it's today. Went to a club with J, which was student only, and, bizarre as it feels, I'm not actually technically a student anymore, for the first time in my life. So I had to put on my confused foreigner look and say "I just moved here, I'm an exchange student but I haven't received my student card yet, but all my friends are inside, can I please go in". The bouncer said "if I ever find out you were lying, I will hunt you down and kill you"*, and I went inside and all was good.
Drinks there cost less than half anywhere else in town, so I think I'm gonna have to source a fake student card. Not sure how many times I can bluff my way in. (I've done it twice so far.)
Anyway, to cut a long story not-as-long, I met an aussie gal there called Amanda. She's a League fan, but apart from that she was enjoyable company and it was cool to chat to someone from back home. Most of her buddies were Spanish, and they were all jubblies, including one who ranks as the second most beautiful girl I've seen in my life (after William Rehnquist, or if you like, perennial up-town girl George Negus), and I got some free advice from them** regarding my intended (though not yet planned) Spanish jaunt in summer.
There was also a wierd french guy there in a Mao-style jacket who kept coming up to me and Amanda putting an arm around each of us and saying "you knoeuw what, I hate Australia, but I like ze Australian people, and I like Australian Rugby". I kept responding with things like "You know, Pierre***, I hate france, and I hate french people, and I hate you, but I like yoplait and baguettes and berets and stripey shirts and people with garlic around their necks saying "a heugh heugh heugh"" and so it went on.
* - or words to that effect
** - the spaniards, not George Negus and William Rehnquist.
*** - Not his real name, but it served my purposes.
Confession time: I think I was accidentally very racist last week.
In Swedish class we were doing an exercise, going around the class, each person had to state a problem they had, and the rest of the class would suggest solutions. All in Swedish, of course.
The guy next to me, who's a bit of a joker, said his problem was that he had too many illegitimate children. I immediately responded with the solution "sell some of them into slavery", just because that's the kind of thing I say in situations like that (I had to ask Helena what the word for slavery was, turn's out it's "slaveri").
Then I noticed a few people round the class giving me strange looks. Then it occurred to me that the guy is black (It was Jonathan from Cameroon, cross-ref party pix), which perhaps pegs my slavery call a little low on the tact scale.
On the other hand, the fact that it took me several seconds to even make the connection that he was black kinda indicates that I'm not racist at all, like in that episode of South Park with the town flag.
He didn't seem to care, at any rate, and I'm hitting the town with him tonight.
Anyway, we'll all be black in the future.
----------
Well, I wrote that yesterday, and now it's today. Went to a club with J, which was student only, and, bizarre as it feels, I'm not actually technically a student anymore, for the first time in my life. So I had to put on my confused foreigner look and say "I just moved here, I'm an exchange student but I haven't received my student card yet, but all my friends are inside, can I please go in". The bouncer said "if I ever find out you were lying, I will hunt you down and kill you"*, and I went inside and all was good.
Drinks there cost less than half anywhere else in town, so I think I'm gonna have to source a fake student card. Not sure how many times I can bluff my way in. (I've done it twice so far.)
Anyway, to cut a long story not-as-long, I met an aussie gal there called Amanda. She's a League fan, but apart from that she was enjoyable company and it was cool to chat to someone from back home. Most of her buddies were Spanish, and they were all jubblies, including one who ranks as the second most beautiful girl I've seen in my life (after William Rehnquist, or if you like, perennial up-town girl George Negus), and I got some free advice from them** regarding my intended (though not yet planned) Spanish jaunt in summer.
There was also a wierd french guy there in a Mao-style jacket who kept coming up to me and Amanda putting an arm around each of us and saying "you knoeuw what, I hate Australia, but I like ze Australian people, and I like Australian Rugby". I kept responding with things like "You know, Pierre***, I hate france, and I hate french people, and I hate you, but I like yoplait and baguettes and berets and stripey shirts and people with garlic around their necks saying "a heugh heugh heugh"" and so it went on.
* - or words to that effect
** - the spaniards, not George Negus and William Rehnquist.
*** - Not his real name, but it served my purposes.
posted by I-Rock at 9:29 PM
10 Comments:
I believe 'aww haww haww' is the traditional spelling of that phoneticism.
And you're not doing anything for your racist image my friend.
Oh god. I am giggling strangely in public again. Very funny post!
he he he.... will is a bit of a looker.
lil bro: If my trip to Texas back in '03 (at the height of "freedom fries" nonsense) taught me one thing, it's that racism is wrong, except when it's directed against french people. Then it's perfectly okay.
I was Greyhounding around with a french dude for a while, and we attracted all sorts of unfriendly attention. He had previously been kicked out of several pubs just for being french, including one pub in the french quarter of New Orleans.
chia - embarrassing you in internet cafes has always been one of my main targets. It's why I write. It is my muse, if you will*.
k - indeed! You're probably the only person in the world who understood that. Except of course for all the people who really find William Rehnquist attractive!
* - I won't, but won't rule out the possibility that you will.
p.s. if only there were no english patient...
After your update I was reaching for some kind of kitchen item calling the other kitchen item black, in reference to being racist, but I couldn't think of it.
Just thought you'd want to know.
Also, who is the FIRST most good lokkingest woman you have met?
yeah, I know how the fable goes, but it needs updating because the item which made the biggest transisition from non-black to black was actually the spatula.
Looking on the bright side, I bit of racial diversity could increase the market for my upcoming feature film "naked bachelors with spatulas".
I already answered your second question: William Rehnquist!
ill send you the pic of Will, looking like the english patient, but also more importantly like someone else...well, according to a novelty web site...
I direct that to my brother... in perhaps the least direct method of contact I can think of...
piffle! blogs are the future of communication.
If they had blogs in the 1969, Neil Armstrong would have typed "That's one small step for man..." as a comment to some unrelated post on the blog of one of his friends.
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