Another confusion. My Dad visited Japan on business quite often and was taken to many tea houses etc. One time after being wined and dined for a few days, the Japanese were talking amongst themselves where to take him next. Finally one asked him...." do you like Nudes?"....Dad red faced said , sure. He ended up at the best Japanese Noodle house for supper !
What do YOU call it?
- Thread starter EliNHunter
- Start date
lol when I first met my friend Hiroyuki in Japan we were trying to figure out what he did for a living. He kept saying "my company makes razors" And we thought that was really intersting. But MUCh later (like weeks) we realized that he makes LAZORS. They pronounce their Rs and Ls the same. We thought that was so funny because we talked about his job a lot and we always thought he was making Lady Bics or something. lol
Ok, you had to be there.
Ok, you had to be there.
bag or sack for groceries?
We moved to Missouri from Vermont where we put our groceries in a bag either plastic or paper. When I first shopped here in Missouri and the cashier asked if I wanted a sack I was like no, a bag would do fine and she gave me the funniest look! It wasn't until shopped a few times that I realized what they meant.
We moved to Missouri from Vermont where we put our groceries in a bag either plastic or paper. When I first shopped here in Missouri and the cashier asked if I wanted a sack I was like no, a bag would do fine and she gave me the funniest look! It wasn't until shopped a few times that I realized what they meant.
I call a soda whatever brand it is
A purse I call a pocketbook
The toilet I call the bathroom or restroom
My Aunt Woneska is from Alabama she calls panties step ins and the water hose a hose pipe
All my relatives in Michigan call the couch a davenport
Saje you cracked me up with the tit story!!! I thought I was gonna fall outta my chair!
A purse I call a pocketbook
The toilet I call the bathroom or restroom
My Aunt Woneska is from Alabama she calls panties step ins and the water hose a hose pipe
All my relatives in Michigan call the couch a davenport
Saje you cracked me up with the tit story!!! I thought I was gonna fall outta my chair!
O-M-G! That brings back an awful - but restrospectively funny - memory! After we'd moved to Tennessee, I went to work at WalMart for awhile. There was one family who came every-single-night . . . they never, ever bathed, brushed their teeth, you get the idea. Grandpa, Grandma, Ma, three teenaged sons and a five year old girl . . . weren't no forks in that family tree neither! OHHHH! How they smelled. Especially Grandpa.
So, one night Grandpa staggers up to my register (he drank some kind of really cheap, vile smelling beer), leers at me, and says, "Gimmeapoke."
I looked at him and stepped back. Holding my breath I said, "Pardon me?"
"A poke, a POKE. I wantchatagimmeapoke!"
I know I had a panicked expression on my face at this point. All I could think of was I was NOT going to touch this man - not even with someone else's proverbial ten foot pole!
There was a line behind him now. A couple of people could hear what was going on and were grinning. And fanning . . . fanning that fragrance right in my face. My eyes were starting to water.
"A poke?" I asked.
"Yerrupp!" Grandpa answered with a vile belch, "a poke - I need me a poke, yaknow, a poke . . . like whatchu put thengs in - a brown paper poke!"
I don't know when I've ever been more relieved . . . and I'll never, ever forget that in the South, a poke just might be a bag . . . or a sack . . .
So, one night Grandpa staggers up to my register (he drank some kind of really cheap, vile smelling beer), leers at me, and says, "Gimmeapoke."
I looked at him and stepped back. Holding my breath I said, "Pardon me?"
"A poke, a POKE. I wantchatagimmeapoke!"
I know I had a panicked expression on my face at this point. All I could think of was I was NOT going to touch this man - not even with someone else's proverbial ten foot pole!
There was a line behind him now. A couple of people could hear what was going on and were grinning. And fanning . . . fanning that fragrance right in my face. My eyes were starting to water.
"A poke?" I asked.
"Yerrupp!" Grandpa answered with a vile belch, "a poke - I need me a poke, yaknow, a poke . . . like whatchu put thengs in - a brown paper poke!"
I don't know when I've ever been more relieved . . . and I'll never, ever forget that in the South, a poke just might be a bag . . . or a sack . . .
