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I live in North East UK and i've never been to London myself, those shandy drinking southerners scare the bejesus outta me. Tbh i've done hardly any traveling due to financial restraints.
I know that this is a thread for our former colonists to ask questions and make comments about their time in our sceptred isle but it would be remiss of me as one of the aforementioned Shandy Drinking southerners not to point out that the North East scares me too.
A couple of quick fristances then:
- They drink something called Broooon ale, which looks like sunday afternoons washing up water and doesn't taste much better.
- It's the law that the amount of clothing you wear to go out in the evening is in inverse proportion to the temperature, therefore if the temperature drops below -2 degrees you are not allowed out with more than your thinnest jeans and a short sleeved shirt (with cap sleeves mind)
Nuff said I think.
Here endeth the lesson, don't go further north than the service station which is known as the Gap of Watford, there be Dragons!
Being a man of the world, I know all there is to know about you people.
You are wastrels. To wit: All the unnecessary extra "u"s you seem to favo(u)r putting into words and the excess syllabification you insist upon in words like "aluminiuminimum."
You talk funny. Although I enjoy listening to your inflected speech patterns, I find it shocking that you even make your little children talk that way. Even more alarming is the fact that your African-American Negro Persons of Colo(u)r Type UK-ers do not speak properly. To wit: "Yo, mofuck, wha choo lookin' at? I pop a cap up yo' ass you don't be movin' out cheer."
You drink your pints at room temperature. This is an abomination against the very ghodz themselves. All civilized peoples of the world know that brewski's should be drunken icy kalt. Although you claim to be sophisticated, you are -- in reality -- just heathens.
You use faggoty nicknames. Whereas United Statesians greet each other with manly appellations such as Fartface, Limpdick, Penisbreath, and Llamahumper, you limp-wristed sophisticates greet each other with: "Pip, pip old Lima Bean," "Tut, tut old Yarn Collector," "Gor blimey, old Brandy Snifter," and "Nudge, nudge, wink, wink old Crumble Bun."
You drive on the wrong fucking side of the street for the love of Jebus Cries, son of Mog! Wuzup wid dat?
You have an obsessive fixation on the Royal Family. I truly believe you all suffer from advanced Oedipal complex, and are desirous of having unnatural sex with the Queen. That's just not right.
I could go on and on, but I'm sure most of you are already aware of your international deficiencies and are properly ashamed of them. Once you have been assimilated into the Great Union of Nations that our mighty leader, The Great Barracks of Osama, is going to form soon, you will be able to enjoy the fruits of modern technology and elevate yourselves out of your impoverished lives on your tiny, backwards sovereign island.
Now, having said that (I did, didn't I?), turnabout is only fair play.
What think ye in re we Yanks?
How 'bout them Cowboys and Indians? (Dallas and Cleveland, respectively)
Are you jealous that we all live in luxury condoms on the beach?
What about our humongous, gas-guzzling automobiles?
Does it ever bother you that we are the only nation on earth that has Ghodz on our side?
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