Hallo, it’s Nigel Fortesque-Everard here, Chairman of Little Muffin-on-the-Maypole golf club and Keeper of The Queen’s English.
You may have seen my newspaper advertisements back in the 1970s, where I attempted to offer guidance on why your spoken English was rather poor. Not to say crass, regional and vulgar too.
Nowadays, I’m employed personally by our new Prime Minister Theresa May, to head up a new Department of Correct English for Johnny Foreigner, as part of our Brexit strategy. It’s exciting, interesting work and I get to shout at lower class people too, so it’s win-win, as our American cousins like to say.
An Introductory Lesson to Introductions
Let me start with some basic tips for anyone visiting our wonderful British Isles to attain a worthless degree, get a job in one of our many Dickensian warehouses, or perhaps simply to claim all the benefits needed to maintain your life of religious and misogynistic hatred. Now, in Britain, people say hello to strangers and generally make small talk, which breaks the ice nicely.
Here is a classic example;
British person; Hello, how are you today?
Foreign person; I am well, thank you, but my friend works on a farm and injured himself today, trying to wring the neck of a big cock in a shed. He’s gone to hospital with a very swollen bone.
British person; Oh dear, does it hurt much?
Foreign person; Yes, it’s gone red raw and throbbing, but the nurse said she has something to make it go down.
British person; Oh that’s good, now would you like to buy some cigarettes?
There – surprisingly easy eh? Now let’s try Lesson Two.
Lesson Two – How to Make Friends Down The Pub
Pubs are where British people enjoy traditional pastimes like drinking until they fall over, casual racism against permitted targets like France, Wales or the USA, swearing at football matches on TV and assaulting their ex-partners, bar staff, or any family members trying to intervene. Here’s how to blend in;
Here, British men encourage the women to play pool, in order to study their cleavage more effectively.
British Lager Drinker; Alright mate, it’s your 50p on the pool table, do you wanna rack `em up?
Foreign Person; Actually I’m still choosing my pool stick; Hmmm, this one has a long smooth shaft, but I like the purple tip on the other one – which type of wood do you prefer in your hand matey-chum?
British Lager Lout; Listen mate, just set the balls up – do you know how?
Foreign Person; Yes, in my country I have handled many red balls, and coloured ones too, so I will set my wood around them, like so. Now they are ready for you to shoot your wood at the balls, and knock them into my hole, yes?
By this time, most of the bar will be laughing and joshing with you, and you will make firm friends for life this way! Yes indeed. OK, here’s the final lesson –
How To Deal With The Police After a Road Accident
The British Police are not generally armed, so it’s fine to make fun of them, swear, spit, punch them or simply call them racist names – they are trained to like this behaviour in fact! Here’s a typical conversation following a minor road collision;
Many British people make their living by staging accidents, then claiming £1000s – you should do the same thing, if only to blend in with the locals, they will respect you for it.
British Copper; Now sir, you appear to have had a bit of a bump – what happened?
Foreign Person; Those f***ing idiots at the council put a lamp-post where I usually park on the pavement. I need to make a compo claim, my neck is stiffer than Mick Jagger’s knob.
British Copper; Right, I’ll take some details. Is this your car?
Foreign Person; Yeah today it is, but tomorrow my brother needs it. Listen mate my neck really hurts – can you gently rub me, just below the head, with an up-and-down motion? Ah, that’s great man, cheers Porky!
In London’s Cockney Quarter – which is actually in Essex – genuine Cockneys prefer being called a `right Jeremy Hunt.’ What larks.
So there we have it; a handy guide to making friends whilst using the Queen’s English. Good luck and one final tip – when meeting a genuine London Cockney, always call him a `right old Jeremy Hunt’ – they love that type of banter.
Good luck and cheery-bye!