Still contemplating your post, Erminia. As someone who has an extramarital
affair with English.
Best
Árni
--
Árni Ibsen
Stekkjarkinn 19,
220 Hafnarfjördur,
Iceland
tel.: +354-555-3991
e-mail: [log in to unmask]
http://www.centrum.is/~aibsen/
> Erminia said:
>
> They say: when you move to a foreign country, you never know to
> what kind of language you are exposing yourself. You come from a family of
> professional people, from a literary intellectual background
> especially? Forget part of that: you move to another nation and you lay
> yourself bare
> on the ground as a newly born child. You are there, anew, ready to
> absorb
> the new language: all depends from what people you are going to
> be
> transmitted that new mother tongue from and in what new
> environment.
> - Yes, fucking right, the same happened to me, lads. I moved to
> this
> country, England, between seven to nine years ago. It better be
> the latter
> end. I have no idea as to what kind of English I was exposed to,
> what
> mother-tongue? If you're expecting me to actually open my lips and
> physically utter the English idiom in the received pronunciation,
> you are
> fucking mistaken. Do I really give a shit? I'm telling you...I've got
> whole shitload of other questions in my mind. My only
> preoccupation is to
> grab my dinner... I fucking hate this I want to suffer bit of what other
> people here are going through bullshit...They tell me: you have a
> dead ear
> for English...
> I better still fucking be in lala-dream land...my lips are so heavy,
> bitch, you boca took up six hours of prime time; have some
> decency....It's
> bad enough the god damn sun is streaming directly into my eyes
> as if I were an homosexual....
|