A good thing about my job is, I get to hear a lot of different world accents. And Australia itself has people from all parts of the world.
Most people find the Italian accent very sexy. But I have had quite a few Italian guys trying to hit on me and so I have now come to associate it with unwanted advances. I hear a guy speaking to me with an Italian accent, I am immediately on my guard.
I personally love the Irish accent. I could listen to a guy talking with a broad Irish accent forever. Only thing is, I wouldn’t understand anything of what he said. Yes, even when he is talking in English. Nevertheless, I wouldn’t want him to stop talking. Please note that I keep saying ‘he’. The exact same accent in a woman, I wouldn’t care much for. Oh, and one of my fantasies is to kiss a handsome Irish guy while he is talking ;)
I just heard the Welsh accent for the first time today. (Where do all the Welsh people hide? Even in British programs, you find the English, the Scots, the Irish, but almost never a Welshperson) It is a bit like an understandable version of the Irish accent. The Scottish accent is kind of sweet but after a while, the sing-song tone gets on my nerves.
And I love the accent of educated Indians who do not communicate primarily in English. Like most of our parents and uncles and aunts. A beautiful example is Shri S N Goenkaji. Irony is that the average foreign person will understand them much better than our cosmopolitan accents simply because they speak more slowly and clearly.
The Aussie accent? Love it, mate! Aussie, Aussie, Aussie! Oi, oi, oi!
Saturday, September 15, 2007
Friday, September 07, 2007
Afternoons...
Remember we used to be asked to write essays in school titled, ‘If I was the prime minister of the country’?
Well, if I were the leader of this world, I would ban the time of the day between 1pm and 4pm.
All afternoons with their morphia-like lethargy and stupor-inducing, meaningless existences with the time passing like warm tar crawling uphill, and when the mind just refuses to acknowledge even the spark of a hope of activity and it is so hard to believe that there can be such things as the bright and cheery mornings or the vivacious nights issued to us alongside the afternoons.
Thank the good Lord for coffee. Even instant coffee.
And yes, this was written in the afternoon.
Well, if I were the leader of this world, I would ban the time of the day between 1pm and 4pm.
All afternoons with their morphia-like lethargy and stupor-inducing, meaningless existences with the time passing like warm tar crawling uphill, and when the mind just refuses to acknowledge even the spark of a hope of activity and it is so hard to believe that there can be such things as the bright and cheery mornings or the vivacious nights issued to us alongside the afternoons.
Thank the good Lord for coffee. Even instant coffee.
And yes, this was written in the afternoon.
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