|
|
|
Linguistic quandaries, and other lifelong pursuits and pleasures. In the last week I have become a linguist again, but you know that's a lie because once a linguist always a linguist, so I was never not a linguist, I was just in denial, trying to fight it. Today at work I printed out a vowel chart and hung it up at my desk. I tried to print out the consonants too but they kept getting cut off, pissfuck. My vowel chart makes me so happy, deep inside. I'm trying to figure out the cute boy's Northern Cities Vowel Shift, and (even harder) trying to figure out what it is about my vowels that he thinks is so funny. We have diphthong differences, but he laughs at my Os and I swear I hear no difference. We sit near a man with a potty mouth. The cute boy and I are logging his ejaculations - (ha ha ha, what a great sentence that was) - and there's potential here, folks, potential. A study. A study on workplace Tourette's or something. Here is my first bit of data: 10 minutes with Robert ---------- It is interesting to note that each time after saying "fucking cunt" he cleared his throat loudly, as if to cover it up. One day he was making comments about witches, and another day he was like "I hate you, I hate you". It's amusing.
|