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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....

Utter the English idiom properly? Load of feces. It's fucking
impossible....