Monthly Archives: April, 2016

Alice is a Lying Liar or Help for Those With No Sarcasm Gene

It occurred to me a few posts back that someone coming upon this blog for the first time might not realize I like to parody annoying, stupid people and use heaping doses of sarcasm on a regular basis.  That would mean they would read something like say, my last post (Don’t worry, you get another chance!) and think that I am a really big racist.  I’m not (I mean not a BIG racist anyway) I just like to parody the worst of America.  Everyone else is going to do it; I might as well join in.

Dave Barry had this problem when he wrote for the Miami Herald, despite the newspaper clearly stating that he was, in fact, a humor columnist. He wrote “Mr. Language Person”, a column in which he purposely murdered the English language.  Every time he’d get letters from people who were very offended that he was teaching incorrect grammar.  So he wrote another column in which he explained what was B.S. and what wasn’t.  I figured I’d try the same thing by taking my last post and using helpful ellipsis in red (closed captioning!) for those who are sarcasm impaired.  I realize this is a repeat for some – in that case you can always just read the red parts – like in the Bible they’re the best!

*********(Warning: This Might Look Familiar) ********

I was driving to work today, and singing along to a song from the Disney movie Lilo and Stitch, because – I’m me. (note: weird) I like the Hawaiian songs, so naturally try to sing along (key word is “try”), even though I do not speak Hawaiian (I know “Aloha”), so it sounds kind of like this “Oh like oh e maya a una de tala a oof mana mana a eee eee eee eee oh.” (Well it sounds like that to me cause I don’t speak the language.  I’m sure Hawaiians understand it.  Probably.)

All Hawaiians hula dance. It's the law.

All Hawaiians hula dance. It’s the law. (Probably not really)

Then it occurred to me that I didn’t know what their language was really called. (I don’t.) Is it really called Hawaiian?  (beats me!) Cause I live in the United States, and we don’t speak United States.  Nor do we speak American. (I went to school a lot.) We do speak English (supposedly), but New England English is way different than Southern English, or California English.  And if we get online, our English doesn’t look like English at all.  (Texting is not writing.)  I once looked at an old text and realized I had not capitalized my “I”s, and I cringed because I like to use the word “I” a lot (true) and it just looked like I had barfed preschool on the phone. (I didn’t actually barf.  I just typed.  I might have made barfing noises.)  Or teen, take your pick. (I’m not prejudiced against teens, just honest.  Okay I’m prejudiced.)

People speak other languages here too, but we (We being mostly lazy, conservative Americans) expect everyone to also speak English, cause we are Americans, even if we actually borrowed English from the English, you know, before those guys screwed it up so much. (British people didn’t screw it up their own language.  Not anymore than Americans did (and do!)  I mean really – it’s not a jumper.  It’s a sweater.  (Why call it a jumper?  Does it jump?  Then again does a sweater sweat?  Language is weird period.) A jumper is something little girls wear, like overalls but with a skirt. (I have no idea why we even make these kinds of jumpers.) And we don’t take lifts, nor do we drive lorries, our cars don’t wear bonnets (Our cars wear hoods!  Not really, we just call them hoods or bonnets.  Or that thing in front of the car.) , and use a freaking article when you say “I’m going to university.”  It’s like we Americans have to tell you everything. (Well Americans certainly want to anyway.  Try to ignore us as usual.)

But England is weird too (fun weird!), because they don’t just go by England.  They also go by Great Britain, and call themselves British, not Greatish, or Greatish Britainish. (I do like wasting my English education.)  Or they could be the United Kingdom if you include the unimportant countries around them, like Scotland. (Scotland is full of very smart people who also hate Donald Trump.)  I think. (I have no idea) But again, no United Kindomners.  Also do you speak Scottish and Irish, or Gaelic, or just English cause everyone has to speak English because we do?  I don’t know. (true!) I have not even bothered to Google this. (also true!) I do know that even the most racist people love foreign accents, so if you have one, come on over.  We’ll go crazy for you.  (We really will.) Look how successful the Beatles were.  It wasn’t cause of their haircuts. (It was cause of their singing.)

It wasn't the clothes either.

It wasn’t the clothes either. (Were they kidding with this shot?)

Now Spain has it right, because their people speak Spanish, but then Mexico speaks Spanish too.  But the two are not actually the same.  Which means the Spanish I was taught by a white Anglo woman was Spain Spanish, and does little to help me speak Mexican Spanish, and there are a lot more Mexicans around Texas than there are Spaniards. (true) Just ask Donald Trump. (please don’t) I took several years of Spanish, but still can’t keep up with them because they speak, like, fast.   And then you like translate in your head, and have to respond, and I just can’t keep up with all of that.  (I suck at Spanish) Yet I see some people switch effortlessly from Spanish to English in one breath and I wonder if they are some sort of magician. (Seriously, how do they DO that?)

Then there’s France.  They speak French.  Fair enough.  But we have people in Louisiana who also speak French.  Also Cajun, whatever the heck that is.  (Gambit from the X-men speaks it!)  Parts of Canada speak French too.  They don’t speak Canadian, unless you count those guys who used to say “hooser” on Saturday Night Live. (Anyone remember their names?)

Like, Canada, let's have a beer. Then let us in your country. Please.

Like, Canada, let’s have a beer. Then let us in your country. Please.  (We’re really not kidding here.)

On to Japan.  They speak Japanese.  Yay.  Also English.  And Engrish, which is a combination of English and Japanese that usually results in hilarity.  Like small children wearing shirts with rather inappropriate words, while smiling big happy smiles. (Look it up.  It’s funny!) Of course Americans are known for getting tattoos done in Chinese or Japanese characters (they’re the same, right?) (no)  and end up permanently affixed with stupid words.  Just because the guy says it means “warrior” doesn’t mean it’s right.  You could be walking around with the word “sponge” on your bicep.  (Also funny!) I bet our Asian neighbors love it when they see this. (No they don’t.)  Asian is another word you can call Japanese, or Chinese, or Korean, or Vietnamese, because a lot of Americans aren’t going to bother with the difference. (True – partly because we really don’t know and don’t want to look like idiots)  Because we’re too busy playing their video games. (They do make good video games.)

Africa!  Now this is one crazy place.  (Africans are not insane.  Well not most of them.) They don’t all speak African, you guys.  They have different languages and dialects, and if I looked it up, I could probably tell you one of them. (I never looked it up.)  I think they sound very cool, even if they aren’t saying anything important, like in the introduction to the Lion King.  I heard it’s translated something like “It’s a lion, look it’s a lion” which is better than “Llama, llama, penguins in pajamas” which my friend mentioned, and now I hear every time that movie comes on. (Honestly, I hear nothing else now.  Llama, llama.)  I asked a student from Africa what some names meant, and Simba means “lion”, Mufasa means “king”, and Scar means “bad guy”.  Way to be creative, Disney! (You aren’t at all creative, Disney.)

We can say whatever we want to - you don't know what we are a sayin - you just think it a sounds a cool-ah. Cirrrrcle of Liiife!

We can say whatever we want to – you don’t know what we are a sayin – you just think it a sounds a cool-ah. Cirrrrcle of Liiife!

There are a lot more countries (Try looking at a map.  I might.), but I know most of you have no attention span and probably quit somewhere around England (Australians speak English too!  Sort of!) so I’ll stop here. (I probably would have stopped way back there too, if I were reading this.  Sorry I haven’t read your blogs lately!)   Suffice it to say, language is very confusing, especially when it doesn’t even match the country name, so I think everyone should have to change theirs to make it easier (sort of like when you guys all went metric and we didn’t, but yet you still didn’t change back to feet and inches).  (I don’t actually think people should change their language, or their metric system.  Because of our independence there, I never know how to measure squat.)  So a “good day” to those who speak Canadian, United Kingdom, Louisiana, Asian, African, and those other places on the map.  You’re welcome. (I’m sorry)

Alice (This isn’t even my real name)

 

 

 

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What Country Do You Speak?

I was driving to work today, and singing along to a song from the Disney movie Lilo and Stitch, because – I’m me. I like the Hawaiian songs, so naturally try to sing along, even though I do not speak Hawaiian, so it sounds kind of like this “Oh like oh e maya a una de tala a oof mana mana a eee eee eee eee oh.”

All Hawaiians hula dance. It's the law.

All Hawaiians hula dance. It’s the law.

Then it occurred to me that I didn’t know what their language was really called.  Is it really called Hawaiian?  Cause I live in the United States, and we don’t speak United States.  Nor do we speak American.  We do speak English (supposedly), but New England English is way different than Southern English, or California English.  And if we get online, our English doesn’t look like English at all.  I once looked at an old text and realized I had not capitalized my “I”s, and I cringed because I like to use the word “I” a lot and it just looked like I had barfed preschool on the phone.  Or teen, take your pick.

People speak other languages here too, but we expect everyone to also speak English, cause we are Americans, even if we actually borrowed English from the English, you know, before those guys screwed it up so much.  I mean really – it’s not a jumper.  It’s a sweater.  A jumper is something little girls wear, like overalls but with a skirt.  And we don’t take lifts, nor do we drive lorries, our cars don’t wear bonnets, and use a freaking article when you say “I’m going to university.”  It’s like we Americans have to tell you everything.

But England is weird too, because they don’t just go by England.  They also go by Great Britain, and call themselves British, not Greatish, or Greatish Britainish.  Or they could be the United Kingdom if you include the unimportant countries around them, like Scotland.  I think.  But again, no United Kindomners.  Also do you speak Scottish and Irish, or Gaelic, or just English cause everyone has to speak English because we do?  I don’t know.  I have not even bothered to Google this.  I do know that even the most racist people love foreign accents, so if you have one, come on over.  We’ll go crazy for you.  Look how successful the Beatles were.  It wasn’t cause of their haircuts.

It wasn't the clothes either.

It wasn’t the clothes either.

Now Spain has it right, because their people speak Spanish, but then Mexico speaks Spanish too.  But the two are not actually the same.  Which means the Spanish I was taught by a white Anglo woman was Spain Spanish, and does little to help me speak Mexican Spanish, and there are a lot more Mexicans around Texas than there are Spaniards.  Just ask Donald Trump.  I took several years of Spanish, but still can’t keep up with them because they speak, like, fast.  And then you like translate in your head, and have to respond, and I just can’t keep up with all of that.  Yet I see some people switch effortlessly from Spanish to English in one breath and I wonder if they are some sort of magician.

Then there’s France.  They speak French.  Fair enough.  But we have people in Louisiana who also speak French.  Also Cajun, whatever the heck that is.  Parts of Canada speak French too.  They don’t speak Canadian, unless you count those guys who used to say “hooser” on Saturday Night Live.

Like, Canada, let's have a beer. Then let us in your country. Please.

Like, Canada, let’s have a beer. Then let us in your country. Please.

On to Japan.  They speak Japanese.  Yay.  Also English.  And Engrish, which is a combination of English and Japanese that usually results in hilarity.  Like small children wearing shirts with rather inappropriate words, while smiling big happy smiles.  Of course Americans are known for getting tattoos done in Chinese or Japanese characters (they’re the same, right?) and end up permanently affixed with stupid words.  Just because the guy says it means “warrior” doesn’t mean it’s right.  You could be walking around with the word “sponge” on your bicep.  I bet our Asian neighbors love it when they see this.  Asian is another word you can call Japanese, or Chinese, or Korean, or Vietnamese, because a lot of Americans aren’t going to bother with the difference.  Because we’re too busy playing their video games.

Africa!  Now this is one crazy place.  They don’t all speak African, you guys.  They have different languages and dialects, and if I looked it up, I could probably tell you one of them.  I think they sound very cool, even if they aren’t saying anything important, like in the introduction to the Lion King.  I heard it’s translated something like “It’s a lion, look it’s a lion” which is better than “Llama, llama, penguins in pajamas” which my friend mentioned, and now I hear every time that movie comes on.  I asked a student from Africa what some names meant, and Simba means “lion”, Mufasa means “king”, and Scar means “bad guy”.  Way to be creative, Disney!

We can say whatever we want to - you don't know what we are a sayin - you just think it a sounds a cool-ah. Cirrrrcle of Liiife!

We can say whatever we want to – you don’t know what we are a sayin – you just think it a sounds a cool-ah. Cirrrrcle of Liiife!

There are a lot more countries, but I know most of you have no attention span and probably quit somewhere around England (Australians speak English too!  Sort of!) so I’ll stop here.  Suffice it to say, language is very confusing, especially when it doesn’t even match the country name, so I think everyone should have to change theirs to make it easier (sort of like when you guys all went metric and we didn’t, but yet you still didn’t change back to feet and inches).  So a “good day” to those who speak Canadian, United Kingdom, Louisiana, Asian, African, and those other places on the map.  You’re welcome.

Alice

 

 

The Republican and the Democrat: A Love Story Part Two

We’re back with Thing Two’s captivating story of two vampires people torn apart by POLITICS.  Can the two ever be together, what with the probable different number of chromosomes?  Let’s find out in part two of: The Republican and the Democrat: A Love Story.

 

CHAPTER THREE

GUNS, GUNS AND MORE GUNS
Ken went on the wonderful web and looked for a good lookin’ dating website for him to find a new gal.

“Hey this one looks swell.” He took a deep breath and started on Democrathotties.com

Name: Kennedy

Gender: male

Voting for: Bernie Sanders

Hobbies: Having long debates on the beach

More about ME: My favorite color is blue, my favorite animal is a donkey, and my uncle is

Bernie Sanders, and I live in a cardboard house since I donated all my money to orphans, plus I’m poor….cool right!!!???

*insert hawt picture*

Before he had decided which angle, or whether he wanted to have his shirt on or not for his “hawt” picture, he got 2 requests already. The first girl was named Bindi Roosevelt, who also liked Donkeys. The other girl was named Katy Reagan…and her picture had her in a red bikini, next to 3 guns. Being bewildered on how such a Republican appeared on a Democratic dating site, he rejected both. His dog started to howl loudly as he finally took his needed picture and went to bed …. dreaming about rich little Marsha.

Ken on his cardboard computer in his eco-friendly cardboard house - with wifi.

Ken on his cardboard computer in his eco-friendly cardboard house – with wifi.

 

CHAPTER FOUR

ELEPHANT CROSSING

It was decided, Ken was going on a date with Harley Quinn Willson.  Ken got into his eco-friendly gear and set off  to meet a new companion.  Ken road his special hot pink, gas reduced, Beatles signed (its not REALLY signed by the Beatles…he just happened to mistake a man with a long fringe cut walking down the street for Ringo.) flower smelling bike of magic. On the way to the meeting place, a quick yet sincere thought whipped past his mind…maybe……. just maybe……..he could get a Ringo haircut.

Ken finally got to the internet cafe where he was to meet his new more than friends friend (hopefully). He parked his Beatle bike and swayed into the cafe. He sat down at a table and made sure that no crumbs had stayed undefeated with a brush of his hand …. and he waited.

 

CHAPTER FIVE

MARSHA’S TURN

Marsha put on her black Prada sandals, and put up her coat. She checked her bed for BB’s, and texted her new boyfriend who went by the name “Chad” which most likely stood for Courageous Happy-go lucky Amazing Democrat hater. A knock came from the north of the house…it was Chad!

“Hey!!” Marsha was so excited to get to know this new man. “Hi Chad!”

“Actually my name is Alejandro, I just shortened it to Chad.” Marsha couldn’t find what sounded weird about that but who cares!!??

“Well, are we ready?” he asked.

Masha got on her billion dollar hat worn by the queen of England.  “Yep! All ready!!”

They set off on their journey to the cafe.

“Hey…this place sounds good, maybe we can eat here.” he said.

Marsha thought it was a great idea…it smelled pretty good in there. They walked in and Marsha sat down while Chad grabbed some napkins. Marsha looked around the place, it looked pretty nice except….

             Kennedy was there!!!!

*****

The suspense is killing you, I’m sure.  We’ll find out what happens next in part three of the thrilling saga of those political lovebirds.  Thing Two was kind enough to leave a message for me at the end of her writing.  Here it is.

*Dear mom, if you are reading this then your prob editing…just so you know, your doing a great job and i love you*

I have pretty amazing kids.

Alice

The Republican and the Democrat: A Love Story

Congrats to all of you.  Thing Two, my eleven-year-old, is a young writer.  She aspired to write as well as Stephenie Meyer, and did so back in first grade.  Still, she decided to write a love story about a Democrat and a Republican in Twilight fashion.  I found it quite promising, and have only (I swear) edited it for grammar and spelling.  Well I edited it as much as Stephenie would.  Enjoy.

 

The Republican and the Democrat: A Love Story

This is the story of the Democrat and the Republican, which is a way better story than Twilight…..like totes…. just ask SM.

Stephany Mayo:

Diz iz the bestz stoiy ever bout ROMANCEEEEEEEEEEEE

See!!! Even famous writers like it. So…. let’s get that out of the way…first we have to tell the story…DUH!!!!! (great intro right!!!???)

CHAPTER ONE,

THE ONE

Kennedy stared at her…her beauty could send one to the moon. Her eyes were as sparkling as global warming. His heart played a saxophone to the tune of her blinks.

“Hey…. you ready for our date??”

Ken snapped out of his fantasy from the feelings he had once she met him.

“Okay now since you have snapped out of it I’ll discuss the plans, first… we need to catch the taxi…but the driver has to be American!!!” Wondering why she was so specific about the driver’s race he called the taxi with her.

Much later…

“This is so romantic!” she said with a sweet stare. The date was almost done…he had passed through all the questions..but he had a feeling one was approaching.

“Hey….” here it comes he thought, the question…he armed himself with excuses. “Are you Republican or Democrat???”

“Democrat.” he said.

She dropped her drink as her mascara dribbled down her cheek. “I’MMM……A REPUBLICAN.” she said  “WEEEE CAN’T BE TOGETHER!!!!”

His heart failed…and he fainted.

"Kennedy noooooooo!"

“Kennedy noooooooo!”

CHAPTER TWO

DONKEY DAY

Ken woke up to a voice stronger than silver.  “I’m sorry…”

He tried to gain his memory. “I’m sorry too…. Marsha.”

“It’s my fault my uncle is Trump.”

Ken understood…since Uncle Bernie wanted him to only date Democrats.

“I guess this is it.” Ken realized this was most likely the last time he was to see her.

“Well bye … I guess.” Marsha walked away with mascara dripping down her shirt…Ken yelled after her …. but she only cried and ran farther.

Ken started to see the clues come together…she only wanted a American around her…in fact right once they had their first date she asked him if he was American, he thought as a bird landed on his shoulder.

“I need a new girlfriend,” he mumbled.

 

What will happen next?  Will Ken and Marsha see past their political stereotypes and have a love as shallow as Bella and Edward in Twilight?  Who knows, she hasn’t written it yet.  Stay tuned.