I'm bilingual - I speak English and American (with a fair bit of Scots as well). I can hoover the flat whilst blethering on my mobile, as well as vacuum the apartment while shooting the shit on my cell. But some days... Some days it feels like the entie country has collectively declared it "National we gonie pretend we dinie ken what the fook that Yank is on about" day, whick this week, falls on November 23. Part of it is my accent; since I'm from California, it sounds a bit fake and movie-starish to the locals. Sigh.
Sent from my HTC PURE™, a Windows® phone from AT&T that speaks the language, but doesn't drink the water.
The Inn of Infinite Sadness, or alternatively, Smudge and Hobbes' Traumatising Transcendental Transatlantic Trip. Being the adventures of two very large, unwillingly peripatetic, half-Bengal cats and their owner (of rather similar description) as they prepare to leave the North American continent in search of a new life in their (the cats, not the owner) ancestral homeland of Aneda. Sigh, what I won't do for a decent cup of tea.
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