I won't deny it. After my sabbatical in England (the country), I'm glad to be back in America, The United States of. As you know, this country has a way of getting my goat at an alarming ramming speed a la 1959's Ben-Hur. But this goat-getting pales in comparison to the extra-flagrant goat-getting I received across the pond (which, to my surprise, was actually more of an ocean). My goat was gotten over there in a way I only thought possible in the most far-fetched of science fiction radio plays. That miserable isle actually achieved the impossible feat of making the U.S. look semi-tolerable. If I had a sentimental tendon in my body, I would say that even missed this nation.
I'm sure by now your wondering, "what are you wearing?" But what I'll tell you instead is why I traveled to Britain, pervert.
My intentions for visiting Britannica Firma were honest enough, but I wasn't, to my disgust, met halfway. I hoped to clear my head, get a knew perspective on life--all that shit. Rather than finding an enlightened cultural and artistic bastion of capital-k Kreationist proportions, I found an intellectual cesspool riddled with poorly planned avenues of ignorance and bad taste (I'm not referring to the food, which was actually quite good).
I could go on for a fortnight addressing my many beefs with the so called "United Kingdom," but instead I'll focus on one in particular which I feel pretty much sums up my assorted grievances. What I'm speaking of is Britain's baffling, unrefined, kreativity-killing ripoff of the American language. Everything about it is off. They call an elevatortruck a "liftlory." What the hell is that? And get this: they refer to a frenchfryline as a "chipqueue." Seriously? That sounds like some sort of liver disease--which I'm sure is rampant in that booze-soaked country. The list goes on: policeofficertrunk = "bobbyboot." Bottomlawyer = "bumbarrister." Gasolinecigarette = "petrolfag." Another particularly unsavory example is "pramtorch." What does this mean? If you guessed strollerflashlight then you're correct. You're also a fucking Tory who should be tarred and feathered if you're not already.
I have merely scratched the surface of Britain's pervasive and probably intentional bastardization of English. Any people who so skullduggerously corrupt a perfect language are certainly bereft of any semblance of kreativity.
I can now understand our founding fathers, putty-brained as they were. To depart from my policy of never being grateful, I'm grateful that these otherwise incompetent men were able to accidentally stumble upon the good decision-making skills necessary for expelling their unkreative, amoral oppressors. --Peter Doe