Whatsapp translated

I have to be careful here. It’s one of those “close to home” things that is a bit borderline to be sharing. Usually, I would err on the side of caution, but this is just too good not to blog.

It concerns a neighbourhood Whatsapp group that I am on – one that’s probably 90% Afrikaans, 10% English. As well as being a useful group to be on, it’s also improved my Afrikaans, and that’s no bad thing. Polyglottism is massively useful. These two reasons are why I want to stay on the group, and why I probably shouldn’t be sharing this.

But really, this isn’t a post about a whatsapp message. This is a post about a brilliant Google translation. It just happens to have come from a whatsapp message, which is why you’re getting a bit of the backstory.

Anyway… someone reported something on the group which they thought was a little suspicious. Let’s quickly deal with what happened on that shall we: it was investigated and found to be all above board. Still, I thought that it was a perfectly reasonable thing to be concerned about, and a perfectly reasonable way to get it addressed.

But once that had happened, someone weighed in with an unpleasant, uncalled-for message chastising the individual for voicing their concerns in the first place. It wasn’t very nice. And elicited a full-blooded response in Afrikaans.

I tried my hardest to translate, but I was struggling. I could get some of it, but there were words I didn’t recognise. (In my defence, it was later followed up with “Sorry ek so kwaad ej tik verkeerd” – “Sorry I’m so angry I typed wrongly”.) (And I really don’t blame them for being angry.)

Thus, I fed it into Google Translate, and what came back included what might be the greatest line I have ever read (in a (translated) whatsapp message):

I am now bursting that every time I dare say something my head is bitten. I’m going to leave the flu noy. Both buses are located at the parking area for approximately 2 hours. Not enough of your bitchness now. Now enjoy your own hannah Hannah on the paths of dogs, etc., which are not gut-wrenching.

Wow.

I think that:

Now enjoy your own hannah Hannah on the paths of dogs, etc., which are not gut-wrenching.

…might be my new go-to insult.

That it was borne out of entirely righteous anger (coupled with the best that Google Translate could manage thereof) just makes it even better.

And if you think you’ve seen it before, maybe you have. It’s the new tagline of the blog. I think it sums up a lot about the sort of stuff I try to write on here, especially given that much of it is about many of the paths of dogs, etc., which are not gut-wrenching.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to leave the flu noy.

Awful news

There was going to be a post about politics here, but i’ll do that another day. That’s not the awful news. In fact, you might think that not having to endure a post about politics here might actually be good news.

Sadly, the awful news is that there is awful news displacing that post about politics.

Fireman’s Arms burned down last night.

Usually, I’d find some sort of humour in the irony of the situation, but I’m just sad. Fireman’s is a great pub. Friendly people, amazing vibe, decent beer. And then last night at around 3am, this happened:

The good news is that it appears that while the beer garden may be no more, the rest of the building looks ok – given the situation. And apparently the pub cat survived unscathed. Thanks be to Bastet.

Conspiracy theories about insurance claims were quick to surface, but why, when the pub is going from strength the strength and business is booming? And if it was (which it wasn’t), why do it just before your busiest time of year? (Although that’s obviously exactly what they’d want you to think). And then there was this from yesterday afternoon:

…which may will point to as a likely cause of the blaze. (Although that’s obviously exactly what they’d want you to think).

I’m just sad. I hope that Kevin and Dean can get things sorted and get open again as soon as possible. I know that the regulars will do everything they can to make it work again.

 

UPDATE: Great News!

“Like”

Rugby Crossword

In twisted celebration of the recent World Cup win, resident crosswordist SwordDevlin has come up with a rugby-themed crossword.

I don’t really understand rugby or crosswords, so this one clearly isn’t for me, but you can have some celebratory fun with it.

[crossword]

 

My favourite clues this month are the ones that don’t remind me of the score in the final. There aren’t many.

Hands in the ruck, Green 6.

Backing up

I’m still not quite sure what happened to my back. I know what’s wrong with it and I know what I did that day, but I can’t quite put my finger on any given incident that caused it. It’s sore. I’m pissed off and tired. I can still do most things, but it just takes three times as long and leaves me exhausted by mid-afternoon. That said, I’m not able to do everything: I had plans to dump a quarter of a ton of topsoil on the lawn this week, but I’ve decided to give that a miss. I didn’t play football this evening.

My L5/S1 disc is prolapsed, but it’s not a bad one – just a really annoying one. This will be the billionth time it’s happened since I first damaged it when I was 16. I’ve got some wonderful MRI images from over the years.

I once used a physio who told me that it was me that knew best how to deal with my crappy back, and he was right. I’ve tried most things over the years to make it feel better. The best remedy I ever had was pethidine, but sadly, that’s not readily available right now, so I’m using my fallback (no pun intended) methods of gentle mobilisation, lying flat whenever possible, and heat. Nowhere near as much fun.

Recovery is happening, but at a very slow pace. But then, as I said earlier, everything is happening at a very slow pace right now.

Grr.

Back and foot

It’s like foot and mouth, except more less serious.

Meh. I’ve hurt my back shifting furniture around. I’ve always had back problems, but I thought they were behind me (no pun intended), because I’ve been working really hard on my core muscles and I feel fitter and more protected than ever.

Not so, it seems.

Add to that the f****** bee sting from the weekend, which has now swelled up like a swollen thing on my foot. Itchy, hot. Irritating.

Have some Iggy Pop. His recent Maida Vale BBC Radio 6 Music session.

I love this, and I am dying to find it on Spotify.
Also, I hope I am still rocking at 72 years old.
Just being able to walk again in 72 hours would be a start.

And: Leron Thomas on trumpet. Beautifully understated, but hugely important.

Tramadol? I’m tempted…