$#*! My British Friend Says

On the drive home from a professional development lunch today:

“You knob stick!” to some guy who cut us off on the road.

“Oh crap I’m almost out of gas. Why does this keep happening to me?” when the gas light came on.

Finally, when a gal almost stole our primo parking spot, “Oh bloody bollocks hell!” (or something like that, I was laughing so hard I didn’t quite get all the words committed to memory).

$#*! my British Friend Says

After a particularly, ehem, gut wrenching lunch, the following instant message conversation took place between me and The Brit:

  • The Brit [3:36 PM]: oh god my guts
  • Me [3:36 PM]: rut ro
  • The Brit  [3:37 PM]: HAHAHAHA
  • Me [3:38 PM]: and let me guess, you’re here til like 8 tonight
  • The Brit [3:38 PM]: no i am going to leave any minute and propel myself home with wind power
  • Me [3:39 PM]: lol…in more ways than one…
  • The Brit [3:39 PM]: oh no just one way, via methane
  • The Brit [3:40 PM]: or oil slick
  • Me [3:40 PM]: remind me to leave before you…
  • The Brit [3:40 PM]: heheheh

$#*! my British Friend Says

She’s baaa-aack….After being gone for 2 weeks, The Brit is back and we had a lovely time catching up over lunch. Here are a few random snippets from that conversation and throughout the rest of the day:

“My Lord it was bloody Baltic!”

“So I’m stuck in the middle seat and the kid next to me not only obviously has the flu but also Turrets!”

“He had the bloody hat on and was chasing me round the house with his pipe, talking like Morgan Freeman.”

“After all that, I just thought oh sod it!”

“Oh pisser.”

“Get out of my bleedin’ way! {joking} Ok fine I’ll just go to the pisser then.”

“Oh I’m not staying here ’til 6! Bugger off!”

“What should I do stick a broom up me ass and mop the floor with it?”