Nothing at all – I quite like the Welsh, in fact. Given the fact that I live in supposedly one of the worst parts of the country, I'm not going to criticise anyone...bartelby said:
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Im becoming British...
- Thread starter Kingsly
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2) Wait... liking Blair makes you British? What sorta Brit are you?!?Kingsly said:
8) I've a British citizenship, and I hate both the Beatles and Coldplay
I do know the Coldplay frontman's youngest sister, though H) What's with actually shooting at them?!?!Kingsly said:
VII) It's their/our language. Use it properly!
Applespider said:
Um --- nice idea. BUT surely everybody knows that traditionally there is no decent food in England, or if there is, it has come via France or Italy. So any old rubbish goes in any combination. And, er - bangers and chips? Yup, I'll go with that, if the butler has let us run out of pheasant or quail.
We're happy to camouflage our planes but our famous sense of fair play demands that we give our enemies (and indeed, our friendly-fire loving American allies) a sporting chance to shoot them down.Kingsly said:
max_altitude said:
Nope. Definitely not. Definitely Australia; her imperial loveliness our Queen let it slip. Over tiffin.
Sausage, egg and chips is fine British fare if requested very loudly and repeatedly at an uncomprehending Spanish waiter whilst on holiday in Magaluf.
Kernow said:Sausage, egg and chips is fine British fare if requested very loudly and repeatedly at an uncomprehending Spanish waiter whilst on holiday in Magaluf.
Magaluf. Funny how every Brit goes there once. Sends me into convulsions just thinking about it.
Jaffa Cake said:Are you thinking of pork pies and the disgusting jelly they have on them?
Steak and kidney pies don't have the jelly and are altogether much more delicious.
NOW I remember! Just vomited just recalling the jelly-thingee. That and the chunky milk. Mmmmmm... chunks.
Kingsly said:
ummmm so I take it you DONT say Yes Sir Yes Mam every other sentance
PS are you a smoker
If so do you tell your friends you are off to relax with a fag
emotion said:It's the same shti that you americans make jellied candy (sweets) out of.
SPARE me. Not even close.
I will say this... say what you want about the "ethics" of eating foi gras, but I had it EVERY morning with tea and fresh bread. Heaven on earth. And the local Pub.... I could 'ave retired there.
Kingsly said:
see joke below
Being British is about driving in a German car to an Irish pub for a Belgian beer, then travelling home, grabbing an Indian curry or a Turkish kebab on the way, to sit on Swedish furniture and watch American shows on a Japanese TV. And the most British thing of all? Suspicion of anything foreign ".
What !!!!! What !!!!!! Are you saying that we've lost that as well? Can it get any worse? Please wake me up when it's all over --- another G&T Carruthers. zzzzzzzzzzzedesignuk said:Welcome to the [color=#ffaff]non-[/color]empire
Class System
Ok. Anyone who REALLY wants to get to grips with being Brit has got to get their heads around our 'Class' system. Actually, this really only belongs to the English (not sure that any other parts of the UK have it - or need it, or deserve it), but like the qualities of irony and sarcasm, we get it from our mothers' milk and it's there. We (the English) can, and do, categorise someone as lower, middle, upper or aristocratic class within nano-seconds of meeting them. A few veiled questions related to "Where do you live?", "Where did you go to school?", "Do you know Mr/Ms X? (or even better, Sir or Lady X)" pin-points precisely just where one is on the social scale. Where one lives over here speaks volumes about that person. It is all so very subtle and, IMO, not sure that anyone who is not a natural-born English person, can ever acquire the 'class' instinct that we have.
One of the best stories I have heard that describes this concerns Barbara Cartland, the 'novelist' grand-mother of Princess Diana (who was truly a Princess of Hearts - and blonde). Anyway, Barbara Cartland was inordinatley snobbish and relied on her inherited 'Class' to get by. She was beign interviewed by a journalist ( a down-market occupation - if one has to geet hands dirty by working) who asked her if she believed that the Class system still existed in England. And Barbara Cartland replied "Of course we don't have a Clarse System any more, my dear, otherwise I wouldn't be speaking to the likes of you". Cracked me up.
Ok. Anyone who REALLY wants to get to grips with being Brit has got to get their heads around our 'Class' system. Actually, this really only belongs to the English (not sure that any other parts of the UK have it - or need it, or deserve it), but like the qualities of irony and sarcasm, we get it from our mothers' milk and it's there. We (the English) can, and do, categorise someone as lower, middle, upper or aristocratic class within nano-seconds of meeting them. A few veiled questions related to "Where do you live?", "Where did you go to school?", "Do you know Mr/Ms X? (or even better, Sir or Lady X)" pin-points precisely just where one is on the social scale. Where one lives over here speaks volumes about that person. It is all so very subtle and, IMO, not sure that anyone who is not a natural-born English person, can ever acquire the 'class' instinct that we have.
One of the best stories I have heard that describes this concerns Barbara Cartland, the 'novelist' grand-mother of Princess Diana (who was truly a Princess of Hearts - and blonde). Anyway, Barbara Cartland was inordinatley snobbish and relied on her inherited 'Class' to get by. She was beign interviewed by a journalist ( a down-market occupation - if one has to geet hands dirty by working) who asked her if she believed that the Class system still existed in England. And Barbara Cartland replied "Of course we don't have a Clarse System any more, my dear, otherwise I wouldn't be speaking to the likes of you". Cracked me up.
You can't 'become' British! Where you born in England? If no, then you Sir, are not British! It's very simple. You're nationality depends on where you were born.
Wait a minute, what if you're born in-flight over international airspace or on a boat in international waters? I never thought about that!
Where you born in England? If no, then you Sir, are not British! It's very simple. You're nationality depends on where you were born. Wait a minute, what if you're born in-flight over international airspace or on a boat in international waters? I never thought about that!
Just about sums up the thread.EGT said:You can't 'become' British!
Also highlights the similarities between the English and some (USA) Americans.
Unless of course you're born in the Republic of Ireland...EGT said:
I think I'm right in saying too that if you're born in Northern Ireland, you have the right to choose British or Irish citizenship, or dual-nationality if you so please.
well, Im in a bit of a pickle. Physically, I have the traits of an Italian. My name is Duncan O'Bryan (so I've got an Irish name w/ a Scottish spelling) even though my mother's family is from Ireland and England (no Scottish whatsoever, my Father is Italian) and I could eat Indian and Asian food all day.Jaffa Cake said:
You can see why I had a temporary identity crisis.
[thats not even including the recent discovery that my great grandmother is in fact not Spanish, but Russian!)
Kingsly said:...You can see why I had a temporary identity crisis.
Says it all mate! you are British! welcome to the club, if we have a club!
Read DerChef's joke some posts up. here's my personal version...
I use an american computer built in China, an american MP3 player built in China, an american car that was built also by German and (I think) Italian car companies with a german engine (Ford Galaxy), I love Italian and Chinese food, but my dinner was certainly fully British, I don't care for football at all but I have a welsh football shirt, my speakers are from Yorkshire and my camera from Finland (Canon, they're Finnish, right?), I have a Japanese games console built in China, I have a villa in Spain, a cabin in mountainous Poland, a house in flat Poland.
Weird fact about England... Go to Manchester. Eat a pie. Go to Huddersfield. Eat a pastie. During a short stint in Huddersfield I could not find a pie for the life of me. Food changes over the county. Though we're a small country it's very diverse. go a mile in either direction and accents change.
The class culture is most definitely still alive. I'm mad to have a family in all sections! barring Aristocrat, though apparently we're related to some Duke of Bedfordshire.
Although it may sometimes seem the case, when you cross the Pennines you're not actually entering another country...raggedjimmi said: