I think I might be in for a wake-up call… I have a funny feeling that the same language spoken in another country is not necessarily the same language. Point in case:
Apparently in ye olde English, the “F Bomb” amounts to a concrete-filled 250-pound bomb, whereas us Yanks know the “F Bomb” to pack a 1.5 kiloton nuclear yield (that’s quite the discrepancy!). In fact, I think the only thing that beats the mighty Yankee F-Bomb would be the even mightier Yankee “C Bomb.” Oh, the horror… My disclaimer: if you haven’t figured it out by now, don’t waste your time asking me what the F-Bomb or C-bomb is; just use your imagination or go with my favorite philosophy: ignorance is bliss.
Ok, ok… so I can’t necessarily blame the Red Coats – in truth, this came about whilst speaking ye olde Irish in the Republic of Ireland, rather than ye olde English in the Queen’s Country. But Protestant? Catholic? I have a funny feeling that the Queen’s English is pretty influential, even to the next island over.
Me: “What’s going on?”
The Lord of the Manor (using a derivation of the Queen’s English): “This f*@king calf was just born 24 hours ago… have the kids come in and pet it!”
Me: “Come on kids” (as I purposefully ignore the F-Bomb in hopes that the kids completely pass right by it)
The Lord of the Manor: “Don’t worry, it can barely f*@king walk and it won’t kick… it’s almost like a f*@king dog! Go ahead, pet it guys!”
Me (speechless): “So… how often do you guys get baby calves?”
The Lord of the Manor (looking at the kids to ensure they’re out of earshot and then whispering in my ear): “This is the first bloody one we’ve had in a while because we had to get a new bloody bull.” (now in a normal voice talking to the kids:) “Would you guys like to feed it some milk? Here, hold the f*@king bottle right here like this…”
Me: “They don’t bite do they?”
The Lord of the Manor (again, making sure the kids can’t hear him): “Nah, they won’t bloody bite…”
Me: “Sweet” (it’s a good thing the kids are just engrossed in this right now)
So what’s the moral and point of this story?
- Marissa is definitely our animal person. She was obsessed with the baby calf. Brenden? After giving a few pets, he was more interested in jibber-jabbering and chasing around their Irish Hound.
- Apparently, “bloody” is a word that you should avoid using in front of the Queen…