"you really can't say that in any other accent and have it be effective ... a real bitch."
cause you know, i'm feeling kind of left out. please, be more annoying in foreign countries. we all really do care that you're american. we all really want to know just HOW drunk you are. none of us other americans claim to be canadian sometimes. none of us other americans seethe or cower in shame. nope. not us.
i'm proud to be a goddamn american ... um ... as long as i'm with all my friends that know that i'm really not like THAT.
i find that over the time i've spent here, i'm more annoyed by my fellow patriots than the irish people are. i don't care if that's wrong. you don't want to know about the swarms of abercrombie & fitch-ized, junkie-thin (ahem) WASPs that give locusts a run for their money here in city centre.
first off, don't come from a country you know nothing about. if you can't name at least forty out of the fifty states in our union, don't bitch to me about how your personal politics matter more than the price of bread. cause i will (and i have) lay down a blank map of the US and make you label it. oh yes, i will get all third grade on your sorry boney ass. and if you're going to generalize and stereotype about your own fucking country, don't even think about making one texas joke. i promise you, our cows can kick your ass. hell, our cockroaches can kick your ass (now, that may not seem like much to brag about, but it is... really).
now, i seriously met two girls, who we'll politely call bitch and bitchetta, who went on a rant about how backwards ireland is. it went a little something like this (and mind you, these are two GRAD STUDENTS...ahem):
random guy: haha,the cows here are huge!
bitch: oh god, you don't even know. they have like sheep here right...
bitchetta: yeah, sheep, and they like keep them in their front yards.
bitch: how bass ackwards is this country?
bitchetta: how can people just live like that? (as she reapplies her lipstick to her horse lips)
bitch: i don't know. when i was in new york...
bitchetta: aren't you from buffalo? isn't the very name of that upstate new york town reflective of a country type atmosphere breeding little sophistication and a massive farm-lust?
bitch: whore, you're from wisconsin or some shit.
ok, so i altered a little bit for dramatization, but you get the drift of what i'm fucking dealing with... the shudder of fear and horror that runs down my spine when i hear an american accent... or worse, when someone hears mine.
luckily, all of the irish people that i've met have refrained from prejudging the likes of us. i'm thinking of starting my own club... the "goddamn-right-i'm-an-american-and-i-don't-talk-like-a-real-bitch-nor-do-i-turn-my-back-on-a-foreign-country's-warm-welcome" club.
but apparently, i'm starting to sound australian. ah, my vocal identity shall perpetually dance in limbo. and i'm better than i was.
