Ca suffit. I think it's physically impossible for someone to learn and speak as much French as I have done in the last 48 hours. Even Celine Dion. It is literally hurting now, I can see why French people are so arsey and lazy all the time, it's ruddy hard work!
I'm so confused, I've begun to think in French but when I do after a while it realises that I don't actually speak French and just implodes.
My brain is about to melt inside my head and dribble out of my ears, forming a massive garlicy puddle around my linguistically confused corpse. "Miam miam!" ... then a French cat will probably eat it and spit it out again because actually, it's not a yummy French brain, it's an English imposter brain (and I was just about to conjugate the word imposter because it ends in an 'er' - it's not even a fucking verb)!!
Last French exam tomorrow. Then my brain is due back in blighty at a similar time to "The Fergs". Tomorrow I intend to speak exclusively in cockney rhyming slang, to make up for lost time... guv'nas!
About Sophie
- Sophie
- Sophie formed from the mould found on the bottom of a writer's mug of tea. Not much is known about the writer, except that they were shite. A considerable amount is known about the mug, however: it was a white mug with The Beatles images on the side. Many believe this is the cause of many of Sophie's traits, such as her pale shiny skin and her treatment of The Beatles like Gods. Some might say Sophie talks too much crap. Some might say her use of large font is quite irritating. Some might say she’s a twat. All of these are true of course, but you’re the one reading the blog so now who’s the twat, eh? This is the blog of Sophie, and her adventures, thoughts and opinions.
Subscribe
Posts
Comments
No comments:
Post a Comment