French

The trouble with foreign languages is; they're foreign. For them not to be ( bad grammer that ), bracketed words no better, is not possible. However good I become at using French, it'll always be foreign. What I'm mumbling about is the horrible need I have to get it right, must get it right, exactment precis. It can't be done, the "ations" are always going to beat me. Conjugation can be mastered, but Pronounciation, never. So why bother? We've got some English lads here building a wall, and one of the guys always refers to Piegut as peegoo, never pee aye goo. Does it matter? Well no it don't. Arsene Wenger speaks perfect English, but he'll always sound French. The more I know, the more afraid I become to use it, in case it's not exact, so in the end I say nowt. How stupid is that? I'm not alone in this, there's a lot of it about, and the French don't help when they start speaking English, just to help me out , I know. But it doesn't. It's not easy, and it gets not easier, but I'm going to get as good as I can, horrible as it will sound, and it will. The French are going to have to wear it. And they do, bless them! They 'umble me.

It wasn't me, honest!!

Long time since I wrote anything bloggish. I blame the banana. I've bought some for Dis' breakfast, but, not tried to eat one. The last one I tried to eat put me in l'hopital for three weeks. Bloody thing! I'd just had a paracetamol for a pain in my eye, spotted the banana and thought I'd have a quick snack. Peeled it, popped a piece mouthwards, but the banana had other ideas, jumped out of my mouth down to the floor, and refused to be picked up. Bloody thing! It caused mutinous behaviour in my mouth, and also in my arm and hand. The Bloody thing! It wasn't me, honest! It was the banana, Bloody thing! French hopital food is truly awful, and awful is an understatement. Inedible, unless French, they slurped it down with beaucoup de bruit, piggy sort of bruit. Fortunately ( fanfare of trumpets ), I was saved from starvation, by the angel Diane, who flew in every day with a flask of tea and some biscuits. A complete ballache driving to Limoges every day, but the girl done good. I will be eternally full of grate for being full of tea and biscuits. The medical care was as good as could be. I was consulted informed and advised, carefully examined, and then cut open cleaned out and sewn back together. The aftershock I was warned could happen, did, but again, they sorted me out. No complaints. Well done the French health service for saving me from the evil machinations of that banana. BLOODY THING !!!!