Email exchange between myself (at work) and Bonehead (in North Italy on a work placement scheme):
Bonehead: went to a nun school last night where they give free italian lessons. was full of refugees and srilankan domestics, very funny, but some of them had been in italy for 10 years and still couldn’t speak grammatica.
Elberry: Am thinking of getting some snazzy waistcoats to impress women.
It’s hard to learn a language without a teacher or partner, i think. i’m slowly making headway with Old English but it’s really hard doing it alone without a class or tutor. You also need motivation – my guess is these serfs just don’t want to learn, they’re in Italia for money and don’t care about the culture, the grom (the ice cream? – not sure of spelling), the belle donne.
Bonehead: indeed, these coolies are the underclass, permitted to work by the wop for scraps but not welcomed into society. They know how to ask for bus tickets and for mercy from police brutality but they have no experience in conversation where violence or threat is not on the table, poor urchins. When I asked them, none seemed to particularly draw great pleasure from Padova, one wanted to live in Paris, another in England, to play cricket (poor fool).
waistcoats are the mark of a gent alright, tasteful ones of course, nothing with cartoons is permissible and nothing from the mr cooper rent-a-bride collection.
Elberry: Am getting annoyed at work – covering for my fellow slave who’s on holiday or dead or something. People keep giving me work, thus preventing me from blogging or learning Old English or smiting the unbelievers.
i don’t hate work as such i just wish someone else would do it for me, e.g. someone base and worthless like Shrekh, who not only has nothing better to do with his time but has many far worse & fouler things to do.
Bonehead: if only we still lived in the days of class and gentlemen travellers, where a man could travel and read and his serfs did the daily grind because they were base and deserved it.
