Sunday, May 25, 2008

That does it, Claire

claire said...
Knackered means tired from shagging or any other activity :)
March 10, 2008 9:50 PM

Ok, ok. I'm finally starting to get it now. You people are doing this to me on purpose, aren't you? You define one word, but at the same time, you throw out another word or two in the definition. It's endless, isn't it? You're making sport of my ignorance, aren't you?

Well, I do hope you are enjoying yourselves. All I was trying to do was pursue this in a scholarly manner, and look what you've made my earnest quest degenerate into. Into what you've made my earnest quest degenerate. Well, as Winston Churchill once said, "Up with this I will not put."

So know that the laugh is on YOU this time, because I KNOW what shag means. I saw that damn movie. The one with Mike Myers and Heather Graham. Fat Bastard. Not you, claire--I mean the character in the movie, the fat Scot with the terrible accent and the bagful of euphemisms. I suppose you even used the word "shag" on purpose, knowing it would draw my mind to that movie and to Fat Bastard. You people are incredibly devious. I thought you Brits would be much more easily handled. And you haven't even started to crank up the intellect, have you? What have I gotten into here?


[And then]

March 11, 2008 10:11 AM

claire said...
Ah ha!!

Shag is in fact a sea bird, shagging is the act of trying to catch one. What did you think I meant?

Me devious? never!


[to which relax max must reply as follows]

Ah, yes, the common Shag: A western European and Mediterranean cormorant with greenish-black plumage and a long curly crest in the breeding season.

Yes indeed. I must confess that never crossed my mind when I read your comment.

Because you have been so honest and forthright with me, I feel obligated to now tell you the truth about what I was REALLY thinking you meant, although I must admit I was quite puzzled that you, a Brit, would be shagging at all--especially for a living. Of course, as an American, the very first thing that popped into my mind was that you had obtained employment at a baseball stadium, and were being paid to retrieve baseballs during morning batting practice. At first I was puzzled, because I didn't think baseball was that popular in your country. But you know best, and so I simply shrugged my shoulders and accepted your statement. I must admit that it did make a great deal of sense when one thought about it; one would certainly be quite knackered after a session of shagging the players' balls. Also, your statement was reinforced by the fact that, in the movie, Fat Bastard made his living by shagging baseballs as well. (You didn't see the movie, did you? Good.)

So you can probably imagine my embarrassment (even shame) when you told me you had actually been shagging a bird for a long enough time to get knackered. (Christ, I'm actually getting quite good at talking like this.)

Two points of order I must reluctantly call you on, however. First, since I was able to find that bird in my American dictionary, it hardly can be an actual example of an obscure British idiom that would qualify as a subject for this blog. In other words, you cheated by using a real Shag instead of a slang shag. Not permissible. Secondly, it is not allowed to hide behind double-entendre. You already have an unfair advantage in that you are already fluent in BritSpeak. Ok, I just made that last one up, but I reserve the right to enforce it as an actual rule whenever I perceive you are taking unfair advantage of my delicate American sensibilities, as you so obviously were doing.

I hope this explanation suitably clarifies where my mind was when I read your comment.


  1. Hello Max! Thanks for visiting my blog and for the lovely comment.

    My husband's parents are both English, and his stepfather was born to English parents living in Rhodesia (now Zimbabwe). Their conversation is peppered with odd little sayings and my husband uses most of them in an ordinary week. Poms would probably find it amusing to hear an Australian man say "bugger this for a game of soldiers" in the same way we find it amusing to hear Americans attempt a "fair dinkum" or "g'day mate." My husband's granny still lives in Yorkshire and she's practically unintelligible to my colonial ears.

    There are many differences between The Queen's English and Australian English and I would be happy to add my perspective to this lively discussion.

    Cheers, Cobber!
    (we don't really say that)

  2. @ Trish

    I remember you! The gorgeous lady with the huge husband (pictures on her website). Welcome! I'm flattered you came. This site is more classy already for your presence. Not to mention that you are our first Aussie, I think. I promise to be nice to you. Can't speak for the others.

    People, meet Trish. Trish is with emphasis on the crude, I hope. Her blog has nothing to do with oil, by the way. Please visit. And please comment while you are there. She writes neat stuff.

    There's a couple of things in your comment I don't understand. That's about par. But I prefer to embarrass you in an upcoming post rather than asking you about them here.

    Thanks again for dropping by. Please be regular. A frequent visitor, that is.

  3. Ah ha!!

    Shag is in fact a sea bird, shagging is the act of trying to catch one. What did you think I meant?

    Me devious? never!


  4. I say bugger this for a game of solider too! I'm not alone :D

  5. @claire

    Well. What a relief to know that's what you really meant. I must admit I was puzzled (and indeed somewhat embarrassed) when I recalled what it was I was really thinking when I read your first comment. Now you can add "ashamed" to the list of things I feel.

    Sadly, this little comment box will not hold the full and complete explanation you so deserve. Accordingly, I am going to append my full confession to the original post, to include your recent explanation comment as well as a vivid description of what I had thought you meant.

    That amended post will magically appear on the blog at, say, 8pm tonight. Mountain Daylight Time. Hope you're still up, luv--wouldn't want any lowlife Americans making nasty comments about you in a post you hadn't even seen yet, while you sleep, would we?

    Devious? You don't begin to know devious. Hope you can swim, because you're in waaaaay over your head here.

  6. @alison

    Your personal blog is just too perfect for that to be simply a misspelling of "soldier." I can't wait to find out. But I'm not going to guess this time.

  7. Just saw your comment about this blog on NetMax (I can be a little too tied to RSS sometimes). You've picked an interesting and funny subject to tackle here, and judging by the number of comments for such a new blog you've hit right on the mark. I'll be looking forward to new posts :).

  8. @claire.

    Ok, ok, you don't have to wait that long. The modified post is ready for your perusal (and rebuttal) right now.

  9. @alison. Ok, so it was just a misspelling. Nobody's perfect. I still need to know what it means, though, since Trish didn't translate it for me. Or do I NOT want to know? You have me gun shy.


    Thanks for stopping by, mate! G'day!

    And thanks again for your kind words and for your comments on NetMax. Have a good one, buddy.

  10. I'd always tend to use 'sod this for a lark' instead of 'bugger this for a game of soldiers' - quicker to say! (And type.)

  11. Oh dear you have made a right palaver of this shagging!
    I wouldn't mind your version of shagging as it would be a veritable sausage fest.

  12. Claire sent me round to take a peek at what was going on over here. Jolly good job!

    As for figuring out Claire and her double-speak, good luck! I've been trying to do that for over a year now and it's slow going!


  13. @linda

    Hello, Linda. Welcome to the blog.

    Ok, why are you talking like that if you are from Connecticut? See, you can't do that. It makes it even more confusing when you do that.

    There must be more to your story than just being exposed to Claire. Although that would probably do it over time.

    I had a close friend at one time who was in the Air Force stationed in England. Brought one home and married her. Air Force. England. Could that have been how you contacted the disease as well? By the way, I myself remember Lackland well (although, sad to say, that was many years before you ever saw it. You Spring Chicken, you.) Seems like a whole lifetime since then. I guess it has been. Don't get me wrong--absolutely no nostalgia for Lackland, that's for sure. Or any of those other God forsaken places they sent me. None of which was England by the way, unfortunately. Southeast Asia was the fashionable place in my day.

    But I digress. Welcome aboard. Share more of your story if you care to.

    By the way, in doing my genealogy, I find that my first English ancestor immigrant showed up in Connecticut in 1637. Small world.

  14. @catherine.

    Ah, Catherine. Now I remember. I was going to ask if you would consider guesting a post on the subject of the variations of football. You are obviously so knowledgeable.

    Wasn't rugby (Rugby?) invented in America at Rutgers University? Seems like that's a piece of trivia that somehow got lodged in my brain at some time or another. I remember vaguely in high school having to learn about rugby somewhat during gym class. Sort of like American football only without the helmets and padding and rests between plays. Very uncivilized, as I recall. Especially the way we barbarians played it back in high school. Loosened a few teeth and lost interest soon after.

    Do think about doing a guest post on the blog, even though it's a bit presumptuous on my part after only 4 days in existence. Can't pay you shit, but you'll become even more famous than you are already around here.

  15. @claire.

    Obviously youire not going to tell me about the soldier game bugger thing, so I'll just move on. Right on past the right palaver and the sausage fest too. You'll not get me sucked in twice.

    Besides, like Catherine, I prefer to sod this for a lark. Haven't a clue. It's probably pure filth I'm saying, right? And don't talk to me about a lark being another bird.

  16. Do you want to know about the bugger thing?

    also palaver and sausage fest? I would be happy to oblige :)

    Yes I am being cheeky :)

  17. @claire

    God forgive me, but yes I do want to know. But be warned that your words are then going up on the front marquee in a post for the whole world to see.

  18. Hello again, Max!

    Well, blow me, you've got me sussed! Now don't I feel like a right Charlie! Ruddy hell!

    Actually, a cock up on your part, I never was stationed outside of the good ole' US of A (unless you count New Jersey) but my mum's mum came across the pond via steamer when she was but a young lass of about 9 years old. Also, my mother's father's family hailed from jolly old England but came over and helped settle Connecticut long before there ever was that whole bloody revolution and disloyalty to the king stuff. Suffice it to say that British blood most definitely flows through my veins - or at least DNA!

    I never met my grandmother as she died when I was but a wee babe but I probably wouldn't have learned much about the family from her as she wasn't much of a roister doister but rather dour and quiet. For all I know, all of my ancestors were doing porridge for having attempted to nick the Queen's jewels or something! I've been meaning to look up the family genealogy but just haven't had the time what with the whole blogging thing and all.

    Anyhow, enough of this or else you'll think I'm off my trolley. I'm going to chivvy off but I shall have to pop by again soon and chat some more.

    By the by, because it's the dog's bollocks, I've added your blog to my Reader! Cheers!

  19. Welcome back, Linda. Your reappearance has made me very happy. I was beginning to think you were just a one-shot kind of gal. But you've come twice and I admire that in a lady.

    But listen to your talk!--I admit I don't really understand what you said, but I sense you are just ASKING for trouble, aren't you? I usually allow a full two days grace period for new visitors before I mount a full-fledged counterattack. But your kind of talk just won't wait. Besides, you're no real Brit. You're really just a bloody colonial, same as I, Snooty Connecticut abode notwithstanding. So take cover, lass. Let the initial landing-zone bombing begin.

    For starters, look tomorrow to have your bold comments posted on the front page for all the world to see. At least all in our little world here. Let's see how your perky sass holds up when I turn those tenth-generation bloodthirsty Brits and Aussies loose on you!

    Why do I have the feeling that won't faze you a bit? We'll see. Perhaps they'll leave you be--I put them in their places pretty fairly today. Especially that troublemaker Claire. I doubt we'll be seeing the likes of THAT little fox around here again soon!

  20. LMAO.. I have got to put you on my blog roll I keep forgetting every time I visit, I can't leave this place without laughing.. it's ace. :)

  21. Thank you for stopping by Chica. We all love your blog too, you know that. :)

  22. Max, you still surprise, amaze and amuse me. I actually am learning something here...maybe the wrong things, but learning nevertheless.

  23. Hey William. Doubt seriously if you are learning anything, but some of this stuff is pretty funny, isn't it? Especially when you take into account how truly dumb I am about the way British English-speakers talk. (I almost believed she meant a bird, by the way.)

  24. The common cormorant or shag,
    Lays eggs inside a paper bag,
    The reason you will see no doubt -
    It is to keep the lightning out.
    But what these unobservant birds
    Have never noticed is that herds
    Of wandering bears may come with buns
    And steal the bags to hold the crumbs.

  25. erm, Soubriquet, I am going to go out on a limb and say you made that up on the spot just now.

    Stop it, please. :)

    Not bad, though.

  26. Careful on that limb, Max, the pome is one which I learned as a child, the writer is that great poet 'Anon', but a rather clunkier verse is often ascribed to Christopher Isherwood. All I know is, it was in a volume of collected poems edited by W.H.Auden, that lived in the bookcase at the top of the stairs.

  27. N, no no, (non et non et non) he didn't make it up. It's Christopher Isherwood.

  28. I stand corrected. But you speak poetically enough that I feel you COULD have made it up. My apologies. And, since my dear friend A. agrees, I will not argue the point further.

    But I do sense the need, upcoming on this very blog perhaps, to begin your education of American poets. Yes. Even A. could be enriched by such an exposure, I think. Could do no harm. :)

    Perhaps what I find most amazing though, is the fact that there are now at least 4 people I have met who realize that a good shag can actually be a well-behaved bird. Fascinating. :)



Related Posts with Thumbnails