BRITISH Words!!!

Driving home from the London Temple Saturday reminded me of my very first drive there almost four years ago… Some of you have heard this story before, but I found a particular need to post it today, mainly to preserve it for future prosperity. Since we are moving from England soon, and it will eventually become a lost story mangled with other bits of memories and daily crazy happenings:

So as any other American who comes to England for their first time realizes, we are a “Country Divided By A Common Language”… Or in other words, They don’t talk like us… Ok so we know the English/British don’t have the same accent as us, but they don’t talk us either. They use completely different words for different meanings!

For example: Pants to us mean, well.. uh pants… (Jeans, sweats, trousers, slacks, khaki’s… anything that is long, thicker than tights and covers your legs.)
The definition of Pants in England is: Underwear… as in Panties or briefs or boxers…
Yeah, so if you happen to be traveling on the train with say with a bunch of different UK citizens… they don’t want to hear you tell your friend that your pants are dirty. And no one wants to know if they’re holey or ripped either. Also if you ask a complete stranger if she likes your pants, or if they look OK.. you are asking to get slapped. All true experiences of instances that have happened to me or my friends…

The list goes on and on: French Fries in the UK are called Chips and Chips are called Crisps, A pavement is really a sidewalk, not the road. A pacifier is called a Dummy (??? Don’t wanna know why!) A Diaper is a Nappy. Braces are the word for suspenders (Not something to fix your teeth) and Suspenders is their word for Garters. A Hood on a car is really a Bonnet over here (don’t ask why) and the Trunk is called a Boot. When you order Yorkshire Pudding in England, expect to get a Roll called a Popover in the States. Pudding is a word they use for ALL desserts and Custard is what we call Pudding. These are just a few, if you’re somewhat fascinated by our different use of the same language, you call follow this link and find a WHOLE lot more: http://www.krysstal.com/ukandusa.html

My blog today is all about the Word: Queue. Yes, this is a REAL word. It is used here everyday by millions of Brits. We say it too… except the spelling looks like this: Cue, or Que (If you’re Spanish) or my favorite Q. Yep, the letter, q. That is exactly how you would pronounce this word. But what I didn’t know was this meant Traffic Jam or Waiting in Line (Waiting in a Queue)…

So as my hubby and I trekked out to the temple for the first time in 2004, we were amazed to see this completely foreign word posted on signs all around us: The signs read,
“Warning Queues Ahead Drive Carefully” Or
“Slow DOWN! Queues!” and my favorite:
“Please start slowing your vehicle now or you may find yourself experiencing an accident or casualty as there are queues most likely ahead.” YES! Actual British road sign written in small print to fit it all. Of course, as we drove past at 65-70 miles per hour I could only read: Please start slowing- before we were past the sign. (Took us about 8 times to finally read the whole sign! Hahaha!)

Well there we are, freaked out and completely curious to what a Queue is. We had become convinced it was some sort of animal…our conversation went something like this:

Wife: A Kwe-we? What’s a Kwe-we?
Hubby: Kwe-we? I don’t think you’re saying it right… I think it’s Kway-wa.
Wife: Kway-wa? No, are you crazy…? It’s Spelled Q-U-E-U-E, Kwe-we…OH! We’re slowing down! Look around, tell me if you see one!
Hubby: What do you think a Kway-wa looks like?
Wife: I don’t know… but if a Kwe-we is in the middle of the road it’s gotta be something like a cow. Or-
Hubby: Maybe it’s a new species of Deer?
Wife: Yeah! You know how they have those road signs in the States for deer crossing… Maybe this is Kwe-we crossing.
Hubby: Kway-wa.
Wife: I really think you’re right, it probably does look like a deer… look at the hedges it has to jump over! Ooh, honey do you see anything??? Do you think it’ll have gigantic curling horns???
Hubby: What? Uh-I don’t know, maybe..?
Wife: I can’t wait to tell the kids!
Hubby: Seeing a Kway-wa would be something. MAN, I wish I’d brought my camera with me… Wife: Kwe-we.
Hubby: Kway-wa. I can’t believe I forgot my camera!
Wife: Wow! We must be getting close, we’ve actually slowed to a stop.. Look ahead, do you see anything?
Hubby: Just rows and rows of cars….
Wife: Do you think they’re just around the bend there?
Hubby: Maybe a whole herd.
Wife: A whole herd of Kwe-wes! Greg! How cool would that be! You don’t think they’d do damage to the car do you???
Hubby: I don’t know- Hey! We’re movin’ again, look around.
Wife: I’ll look on this side, you look on that side. Do you see anything?
Hubby: Nope, no Kway-was anywhere.
Wife: Kwe-wes. Oh man! We’re going faster now… and there’s no animals at all on the side of the road… We must’ve missed them.
Hubby: They probably went right into that hedge over there… see that hole? Can you make out some movement or something?
Wife: Nothing. Wow! Can you believe it, a whole herd of Kwe-wes and we didn’t’ see one!
Hubby: Don’t worry too much, there’s signs for Kway-was everywhere, so we’re bound to have a chance to see them again.
Wife: I hope so… Hey, maybe we could google it!

England Police

This so cracked me up! Having lived in a town where there were countless bored teenagers, here in England, I so relate to this email. Hope you enjoy! LOL! Brits ROCK!

This is a genuine complaint to Devon & Cornwall Police Force (England) from an angry member of the public. A true email sent to the force, lengthy but brilliantly written....

Dear Sir/Madam/Automated telephone answering service. Having spent the past twenty minutes waiting for someone at Bodmin police station to pick up a telephone I have decided to abandon the idea and try e-mailing you instead. Perhaps you would be so kind as to pass this message on to your colleagues in Bodmin, by means of smoke signal, carrier pigeon or Ouija board. As I'm writing this e-mail there are eleven failed medical experiments (I think you call them youths) in St Mary's Crescent, which is just off St Mary's Road in Bodmin. Six of them seem happy enough to play a game which involves kicking a football against an iron gate with the force of a meteorite. This causes an earth shattering CLANG! which rings throughout the entire building. This game is now in its third week and as I am unsure how the scoring system works, I have no idea if it will end any time soon. The remaining five walking-abortions are happily rummaging through several bags of rubbish and items of furniture that someone has so thoughtfully dumped beside the wheelie bins. One of them has found a saw and is setting about a discarded chair like a beaver on speed I fear that it's only a matter of time before they turn their limited attention to the bottle of Calor gas that is lying on its side between the two bins. If they could be relied on to only blow their own arms and legs off then I would happily leave them to it. I would even go so far as to lend them the matches. Unfortunately they are far more likely to blow up half the street with them and I've just finished decorating the kitchen. What I suggest is this - after replying to this e-mail with worthless assurances that the matter is being looked into and will be dealt with, why not leave it until the one night of the year (probably bath night) when there are no mutants around then drive up the street in a Panda car before doing a three point turn and disappearing again. This will of course serve no other purpose than to remind us what policemen actually look like. I trust that when I take a claw hammer to the skull of one of these throwbacks you'll do me the same courtesy of giving me a four month head start before coming to arrest me. I remain sirs, your obedient servant