(above: 'Let's pose as if I care about other cultures in a cosmopolitan city... perfect. Now, p*** off!')
I know it's been too long before updating the blog, but I've been really busy seizing the day. Because actually, seizing the day is an attitude towards life that takes you time and money -mostly money-. However, I'm having a break between drunkenness and hedonism to write some sensible stuff.
Tourists. What's wrong with them? Why do they speak like that? Why are they always asking stuff you already know? They culturally smell!*
There you go some piece of advice from me to you, potential tourists. If you are happily walking down the street thinking of abstract things such as planning an armed robbery to your local NatWest branch or writing a poem to John Terry's wife -buddies, take advantage of this situation yet now the marriage is at its lowest- and then a (damned) tourists approaches to you asking for any direction in your city you should do either:
a) Tell him the wrong place, or even better, send them to a conflictive neigbourhood in the outskirts. He or she wouldn't tell the difference.
b) Make him stay with you until he pronounces English properly, even if he says the correct words in an understandable way, pretend you didn't get it. For God's sake, people born in Britain have learnt English by heart, why should those sweaty foreigners don't speak English? They think they're better than us, eh? No way. Once he pronounced perfectly his request, send them to a conflictive neighbourhood, just for a bit of fun. Brits love comedy.
* This might not apply to British tourists, who are completely polite and try to understand any local culture they come across by attending local history and art museums, also known as culturally thirsty -stressing the thirsty part of it-.
THE WELSH PATIENT says: 'I myself went to Bristol as a tourist. Apparently they didn't allow any sheep to any public transports and, what's worse, they didn't speak even a word of Welsh!'