the middle of nowhere
[click image to enlarge it]
[A dirt track in Wales exactly seventy-five miles from the nearest Starbucks. POOTERGEEK is laden with three cameras, several lens bags, and a tripod. He is trying to open the gate to a field full of sheep by pressing a London Transport Oyster card against the hinge post. A small, smiley LOCAL MAN approaches.]
LOCAL MAN: That’s not going to get you through, young man.
POOTERGEEK: Do they take HSBC VISA?
[The LOCAL MAN shakes his head.]
POOTERGEEK: Bank of Zion?
LOCAL MAN: You have to lift up the catch and pull the bolt back.
POOTERGEEK: [Watching LOCAL MAN open gate for him] Oh, thanks for that. I’m not from round here.
[The LOCAL MAN raises one eyebrow.]
POOTERGEEK: Is there a Tesco Metro™ anywhere nearby?
LOCAL MAN: ?
[POOTERGEEK reaches into one of his bags and pulls out a Welsh phrasebook.]
POOTERGEEK: Pishticuff llandudno boyo richard burton plaid cymru Tesco Metro™?
LOCAL MAN: You’ll have to drive to Abergavenny for one of them.
POOTERGEEK: Oh.
LOCAL MAN: [pointing at POOTERGEEK’s crotch] Are you going to be alright wearing those? They look a bit tight for walking around the hills.
“POOTERGEEK: Pishticuff llandudno boyo richard burton plaid cymru Tesco Metroâ„¢?”
No racial stereotyping at Pootergeek, then …
That’s meant to be mocking the cluelessness of townies, not the strange language of sheepshaggers.
Whoops.
Ah but how would Local Man cope on the District Line? The charming Andrew Lloyd Webber recounts an amusing anecdote about the day he let some of the serfs from his Daddy’s estate visit the Metropolis. It was for a Countryside Alliance march or some such worthy event. Part of the journey involved the bumpkins travelling by tube with hilarious results….
Reminds me of that joke (in this case a Scotsman):
There was an old Scotsman who was walking with his grandson. Presently, they came upon a wall.
“Ye see that wall, there, laddie?”
“Aye.”
“I built it, I did. I built it with my own two hands. I built twenty others just like it. But do they call me the wall builder? Nay.”
They continued walking.
“Ye see that barn, there, laddie?”
“Aye.”
“I built it, I did. I built it with my own two hands. I built thirty others just like it. But do they call me the barn builder? Nay, laddie.”
They continued their walk until they came upon a house.
“Ye see that house, there, laddie?”
“Aye.”
“I built it, I did. I built it with my own two hands. I built fifty others just like it. But do they call me the house builder? Nay. But you SHAG ONE SHEEP…”
We shags ’em, you eats ’em, mun.
You must have meant _H_ank of Zion.
http://www.snowmagazineonline.com/news/news.asp?ID=29&SubCatID=33&CatID=8