Wednesday, January 30, 2013

Language Lessons

I'M MOVING!!!  Packing up my shit, tucking my cat under my arm and f*cking off!!!  Getting the f*ck outta here, man.  Damn straight.  I'm grabbing a globe.  I'm going to spin the f*ck out of it, then jab my finger down on it.  Where my finger lands, that's where me and my cat, Monkey, are going to call home!!!

Actually...  I'm not really moving.  I can't think of anywhere I'd rather live than here in Toontown.  Maybe if I had one of my dream jobs, I'd consider another location to call home, but here in reality, I'm staying put.

If I was going to move away, off to a far off land..., let's say Fucktopia.  You'd be god damned sure that I'd learn the language.  The absolute basics of the Fucktopian language, at the very least.  Hello's.  Good-bye's.  Where's the f*ckin' bank?  Police.  Doctor.  As well as, basic sentences and phrases.  .

For example:  If I were working in a factory setting and a fellow came along and asking assistance in lifting and moving something too heavy for one fella to handle, I'd hope to understand enough to help the poor bastard out, instead of standing there with my dick in my hand, smiling like a retard, nodding and repeating "Hi!"  I think it's necessary to have, at least a basic grasp of the language used by those who reside where you choose to reside.  It's only respectful for those around you..

Let me clarify this more clearly.  I'm employed at a local factory that produces farm implements.  A majority of those employed at the facility are of Filipino decent.  Fresh off the boat, brought here to Toontown, specifically for employment here.  A fairly large percentage of those immigrated folk, can't even speak a lick of English, which makes working along side of some of them rather frustrating.

The facility, where I'm employed, is split into two plants.  An east plant and a west plant, each producing a different implement or two.  Today, a fella from the east plant was ill and I was instructed to go over and cover for some of his duties, one of which was to transport a rack into the assembly line and transfer emptied paint racks from the stand to the rack.  Some of the paint racks are small and light enough to handle alone, but most of the others are really f*cking heavy and require two people to lift and carry them.

The first few were fine.  I'd drive along side of the stands and pop each side onto the rack.  Others though... Wow.  Un-f*cking-believable, how heavy these things were.  So I walked up to one of the workers standing there, staring off into space and asked, "Hi!  Could I borrow you for a second to help me move this rack, please?"  To which the daydreaming foreigner smiled and looked straight at me and answered, "Hi," followed by a long-ass pause, where he continued to smile and nod.

I walked back to the painted rack, thinking he was following behind me.  When I turned, I noticed no one was there and the daydreamer was still standing there smiling and nodding.  "Hi!  Hi!  Hi!"

If this occurred just once, I'd understand.  One lump of shit overlooked in the sandbox, but this happened two more additional times.  Not to sound rude (too late), but I guess I should've looked for a round-eyed f*cker to lend me a hand.

At least these folks had the decency to smile.  Some of the Filipino folks in the west plant just stand there and stare at you like you have a piece of snot caught in your beard.  Giving you, almost, a look of total disgust.  As if I were the one who just stepped off the boat.  Even people who've been here, in Canada, for a decade or two, can't speak any of the language.  How stupid is that?!

Comedian, Andrew "Dice" Clay once said: "If you can't speak the language, get the f*ck out of the country!!"  More truer words have never been uttered by anyone before or since then...

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