Wednesday, September 16, 2009

zat iz my plan, and eet eez workeeng.

My French teacher is a bladdy hoot.

Half the fun with doing a French course is watching her be French. No but seriously, I almost forgot how animated these people are. It’s classic. They have foibles that tickle me pink.

She’ll do the classic shoulder shrug, while making-a-fart-noise-from-her mouth, with hands turned in an upwards stance. Up go the shoulders, the hands go ‘What?’ and they emit a sound from pursed lips that sounds hilariously baff-like.

Even if I learnt not a word from this course, those typical French gestures are worth the money in entertainment alone.

We drank more red wine, while we had to stand up and tell the class the story we’d written in the past-active tense, for homework.

I was sweating Darryl. I thought my story was super lame. Since I scrawled it down in five seconds after a client meeting this afternoon.

But what I quickly realised is that even if your grammar and vocabulary is up to shit - it’s how you fucking say it.

Say it like you own it.

That’s why I love German – no one really understands – but said like a German, it’s super lilting and expressive.
And for god sakes, if you’re not going to use your hands like an Italian when you trip over a sentence involving how do you find a bus station, then you might as well just be mute.

My story was badly written, but I stood up and pronounced each and every word like a born-and-bred frog. I cashed in. And I got an ovation! Moi!

Also threw in a few slang words I remembered, spiced it up with a few ‘Merde’s’ and voila, I’m talking a load of French that doesn’t make any sense, but yet it sounds fucking fantastique.

That’s how I plan to bullshit my way through some of the more ….intellectual conversations we have anyway. Last night we discussed the psychology behind the social behaviourial patterns of society, and last week we were talking the socialist structure of western Europe.

Well bend me over a baguette. Cockery and buggery.

Next week I have to do a project on a French country, and I got Luxembourg.

Belgium went to Smart Arss from Bedfordview, who knows a shitload. And is also quite cute. His French project will be about as random as mine. Excellent.

So Luxembourg.

Banks and bridges. I’ve been to Luxembourg twice; that’s pretty much what it offers a maladjusted tourist.

I did ask what ‘Oh bless’ was in French last night, and I got an answer, but I’ve forgotten now.

But I’m pretty sure if I say it with a Franch acc-sont then it’ll be fine


the branch manager said...

While you're on zee Franch seem, you may honjoy zeess:

Revolving Credit said...

You didn't actually try and use some German in your French class did you?

Me thinks that may well get you lynched.

Peas on Toast said...

Aw oui, I lurve zat, sank you! I might honjay it a lurt!

Rev - not German, but did ask if anyone knew any crash course Italian they could run passed me...

Serge said...

Rev is right, don't try to tell us how you love the Germans. We still have not forgiven them for the 82 World Cup semi final...

Also, peas, how come you never spoke French to me?

Peas on Toast said...

Serge, I TOTALLY spoke French to you. Problem was we were drinking rum by the jugful, so the quality of French probably wasn't that great, let's be honest - or you were too drunk to remember. A HA! :)