Perhaps a translation into regular (that is, American) English will help. Dear Ms. Brown: Your recent communications has us mystified. Since we haven't asked for your input, we can't really understand why you insist on providing it. (We do occasionally say we welcome your comments, but if you look you'll see our fingers firmly crossed behind our backs.) We had thought, especially after the events of this past summer, that you would realize we don't care what you think, what you like, what you want. If you were to decide, in retaliation, to stop watching our programs, we would all breathe a sigh of relief. Please pass this message to your eight hysterical girlfriends. In the meantime, try to imagine us with our grimy fingers stuck in our ears, tongues flapping while we sing to ourselves, "La, la, la, we are not listening to you. Not ever! Not ever!" Now, please lose our address and stop bothering us or we will send someone around to smack you.
Honestly, sweetheart! Get a clue!
Not the least sincerely, Auntie Beeb
(Watched the new Python documentary last week and noted that the BBC almost erased the film on which the original Flying Circus episodes were recorded. They were too cheap to buy new film. So, I guess the BBC's been pretty consistent in areas of entertainment and business acumen for all these years!)
I miss my rentboy! And the weeping angels scare me to death!
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Date: 2009-10-31 11:38 pm (UTC)Dear Ms. Brown:
Your recent communications has us mystified. Since we haven't asked for your input, we can't really understand why you insist on providing it. (We do occasionally say we welcome your comments, but if you look you'll see our fingers firmly crossed behind our backs.)
We had thought, especially after the events of this past summer, that you would realize we don't care what you think, what you like, what you want. If you were to decide, in retaliation, to stop watching our programs, we would all breathe a sigh of relief. Please pass this message to your eight hysterical girlfriends.
In the meantime, try to imagine us with our grimy fingers stuck in our ears, tongues flapping while we sing to ourselves, "La, la, la, we are not listening to you. Not ever! Not ever!"
Now, please lose our address and stop bothering us or we will send someone around to smack you.
Honestly, sweetheart! Get a clue!
Not the least sincerely,
Auntie Beeb
(Watched the new Python documentary last week and noted that the BBC almost erased the film on which the original Flying Circus episodes were recorded. They were too cheap to buy new film. So, I guess the BBC's been pretty consistent in areas of entertainment and business acumen for all these years!)
I miss my rentboy! And the weeping angels scare me to death!