Wednesday, February 11, 2004
Fake AccentsGeorgina down from college for a birthday lunch and buying spree on Dad at Norstroms ('fine apparel to the gentry').
She told of a group study session where a fellow student suddenly upped and complained to the professor about G's annoying fake accent.
Dear G - as honest as the day is long and far more studious than Papa in his day amid dreaming spires - might have been born in San Antonion, but her education was in London and Hong Kong and her accent is a delightfully soft English with not a trace of the hideous Estuary English favoured by all and sundry.
The Prof listened to G and explained how you can tell a genuine accent, not by the sound but by the rhythm and pacing and, indeed, the vocab.
Luncheon over, we moved to Nordies where our attention was caught by unseemly female laughter from a corner occupied by a sextet of muscular young men whose sparsely clad forms decorated a Firemen's calendar, which an endless line of hot babes seemed intent on buying and having signed.
One lass asked her friend to photograph amid these adonises but instead of letting her stand next to them, the firefighters lifted her aloft for an even more dramatic memento. Naturally, this started a demand for identical manhandling and soon we had all 6 hunks sweeping each lady into their arms. Great fun and much envied by my girls, altho' not emulated.
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