H-land
Seapony Tears and Provolone
Hi. I'm Honalululand, or H-land, as I'm more commonly known, though people usually call me Daniel in real life. 'Cuz that's my name, you see. Well, as you can plainly see by looking above this post to my location information, I'm an American, born and raised. This June, however, I took a trip to Europe, along with some teachers from my school, some other students from my school and some other teacherly and student-type people from around where I live. While in Europe, I saw a lot of stuff in Ireland, Wales, England, Scotland, and some of northern France, and for some reason, I also wound up eating a lot of chicken curry at dinner time and being served apple desserts as chasers- I blame our tour company for arranging our dinners as such. It almost makes me want to take a trip to India with them just so that I can have fish and chips every night. But I digress- this was an educational trip that I went on. In the spirit of learning, I shall now, rather than showing you pictures of pretty sunsets (of which my stores are ample), show you pictures from my vacation in an endeavor to teach you, dear readers, what I learned over my vacation in Europe.
GOD HATES WESTERN EUROPE:
While in Europe, I saw some signs cautioning against entry into certain areas, warning of death. I was able to deduce, however, based upon the pictures that accompanied these signs, that one who ventured past them would face no normal death- ne, the poor fool would face the Wrath of God! Despite all the cathedrals that litter the European countryside, from Notre Dame in Paris to the Sagrada Família in Barcelona, to Westminster and Yorkminster in England, to the many domed churches of Florence, Venice and Rome, God is discontented by the people of Western Europe. Be wary of these signs, for He shall not hesitate to smite you. (For proof that He does not hate Liverpool in particular, I have a Warning: Holy Wrath sign from the Metro in Paris as well.)
NORTHWESTERN EUROPE HAS SMALL HOUSES:
When I was younger, (so much younger than today,) I remember that a Brit asked me about my house. On the telly, she said, they showed all of us Americans having really big homes. I didn't really know, I told her, since I had never been out of the country. I had no vision of a British home to compare my house to. But now these days are gone, (I'm not so self assured), and I've found that yes, my house is, in fact, pretty huge. Sure, it's not huge by American standards, though it's bigger than they build today, but compared to what I saw in Europe, I feel that it's pretty safe to say that my house is pretty big. Here in America, a small town is a bunch of ranch houses clustered around a post office and a store or two at a traffic light. (Or in the case of one 'town' I remember from when I vacationed out west, four shacks and a sign reading "Population 10".) In Europe, a small town in the middle of cropland seems to be a pub, some shops, and a couple of rowhouses or townhouses pushed right up next to each other. I can see now why you might call your yards 'gardens'. (Incidentally, this is probably why public transit tends to suck in so many parts of the country here. Public transit's much more effective when you have a bunch of people using a stop, rather than just two or three, and you live a lot closer together. ...Dang, now I want to go play SimCity...) (I took this picture somewhere between Carlisle and Gretna Green.)
BRITISH PEOPLE CAN'T MEASURE THINGS:
Americans are often accosted for not having switched to the Metric system. "Twelve inches in a foot? How impractical," you all shout. The UK is not under such scrutiny, having made it habit to measure one's height in centimeters, and to buy gasoline by the liter- excuse me, no. They buy petrol by the litre. However, do not be fooled by their façade! The British are still in a transitional stage, and make even less sense than us Americans! Stones, they say! That's an Imperial unit so obsolete, even we backward Yanks don't use it! I fear that until they finish the conversion to the Metric system, the British won't know how much anything weighs, how long anything is, or how fast anything is! (On that note, two other things. Firstly,you put your speeds in km/hour, but mark your distances in miles. That just doesn't make sense. Secondly, your pop bottles. Your primary "Wow, you're not going to drink that all yourself, are you?" sized bottle seems to be 1.5 liters. Ours are 2 liters. This makes prices a bit harder to compare. Just sayin'.) (Oh, and this was taken on a motorway outside London. Though I think you could figure that out somehow by the writing on the telephone box.)
PRIVATE PROPERTY IS SERIOUS BUSINESS:
You kids these days take private property and parking way too lightly! Why, back in my day, we'd have our car towed in a heartbeat if we parked anywhere even remotely near private property, and we'd have to walk uphill barefoot in three feet'a snow if we wanted to get it back from the impound lot, then push it back down the hill to the mechanic's if we wanted to ever drive it again, 'cuz our cars'd've been stripped of their engines and their brake pad's'd be all worn out, too- AND they'd siphon out our gasoline! ...Now git off'a mah lawn, yah whippersnappers! (This was taken on Abbey Road in London.)
FRENCH BATHROOMS ARE LOUSY:
Some of you might have heard that Paris smells like sewage. Honestly, only one street corner did when I was there. However, this picture was NOT taken in Paris, and might explain where someone might get the idea that French plumbing left something to be desired. I mean, a bush'd be nice, yaknow?
FRENCH WAVES ARE AMAZING:
There is little I can do with this sign to make it more awesome than it is. You can decide what it means for yourself (unless you can read French, in which case you probably know what it means). Is this sign warning you of French wizards and magicians, summoning and evoking the waters of the sea to do their bidding? Is it a caution against those who might frolic in the waters of the sea, marking an area in which killer waves will attack innocent victims and take no prisoners? Is the man oblivious to the wave, and simply dancing? It's up to you. Unless you want to use a translator and spoil it all. (For the record, this was taken in Saint-Malo, Brittany.)
DISCLAIMER: This thread is not to be taken seriously. It's meant to be silly. It's not all a joke, either, but please, think before you respond.
GOD HATES WESTERN EUROPE:
While in Europe, I saw some signs cautioning against entry into certain areas, warning of death. I was able to deduce, however, based upon the pictures that accompanied these signs, that one who ventured past them would face no normal death- ne, the poor fool would face the Wrath of God! Despite all the cathedrals that litter the European countryside, from Notre Dame in Paris to the Sagrada Família in Barcelona, to Westminster and Yorkminster in England, to the many domed churches of Florence, Venice and Rome, God is discontented by the people of Western Europe. Be wary of these signs, for He shall not hesitate to smite you. (For proof that He does not hate Liverpool in particular, I have a Warning: Holy Wrath sign from the Metro in Paris as well.)
NORTHWESTERN EUROPE HAS SMALL HOUSES:
When I was younger, (so much younger than today,) I remember that a Brit asked me about my house. On the telly, she said, they showed all of us Americans having really big homes. I didn't really know, I told her, since I had never been out of the country. I had no vision of a British home to compare my house to. But now these days are gone, (I'm not so self assured), and I've found that yes, my house is, in fact, pretty huge. Sure, it's not huge by American standards, though it's bigger than they build today, but compared to what I saw in Europe, I feel that it's pretty safe to say that my house is pretty big. Here in America, a small town is a bunch of ranch houses clustered around a post office and a store or two at a traffic light. (Or in the case of one 'town' I remember from when I vacationed out west, four shacks and a sign reading "Population 10".) In Europe, a small town in the middle of cropland seems to be a pub, some shops, and a couple of rowhouses or townhouses pushed right up next to each other. I can see now why you might call your yards 'gardens'. (Incidentally, this is probably why public transit tends to suck in so many parts of the country here. Public transit's much more effective when you have a bunch of people using a stop, rather than just two or three, and you live a lot closer together. ...Dang, now I want to go play SimCity...) (I took this picture somewhere between Carlisle and Gretna Green.)
BRITISH PEOPLE CAN'T MEASURE THINGS:
Americans are often accosted for not having switched to the Metric system. "Twelve inches in a foot? How impractical," you all shout. The UK is not under such scrutiny, having made it habit to measure one's height in centimeters, and to buy gasoline by the liter- excuse me, no. They buy petrol by the litre. However, do not be fooled by their façade! The British are still in a transitional stage, and make even less sense than us Americans! Stones, they say! That's an Imperial unit so obsolete, even we backward Yanks don't use it! I fear that until they finish the conversion to the Metric system, the British won't know how much anything weighs, how long anything is, or how fast anything is! (On that note, two other things. Firstly,you put your speeds in km/hour, but mark your distances in miles. That just doesn't make sense. Secondly, your pop bottles. Your primary "Wow, you're not going to drink that all yourself, are you?" sized bottle seems to be 1.5 liters. Ours are 2 liters. This makes prices a bit harder to compare. Just sayin'.) (Oh, and this was taken on a motorway outside London. Though I think you could figure that out somehow by the writing on the telephone box.)
PRIVATE PROPERTY IS SERIOUS BUSINESS:
You kids these days take private property and parking way too lightly! Why, back in my day, we'd have our car towed in a heartbeat if we parked anywhere even remotely near private property, and we'd have to walk uphill barefoot in three feet'a snow if we wanted to get it back from the impound lot, then push it back down the hill to the mechanic's if we wanted to ever drive it again, 'cuz our cars'd've been stripped of their engines and their brake pad's'd be all worn out, too- AND they'd siphon out our gasoline! ...Now git off'a mah lawn, yah whippersnappers! (This was taken on Abbey Road in London.)
FRENCH BATHROOMS ARE LOUSY:
Some of you might have heard that Paris smells like sewage. Honestly, only one street corner did when I was there. However, this picture was NOT taken in Paris, and might explain where someone might get the idea that French plumbing left something to be desired. I mean, a bush'd be nice, yaknow?
FRENCH WAVES ARE AMAZING:
There is little I can do with this sign to make it more awesome than it is. You can decide what it means for yourself (unless you can read French, in which case you probably know what it means). Is this sign warning you of French wizards and magicians, summoning and evoking the waters of the sea to do their bidding? Is it a caution against those who might frolic in the waters of the sea, marking an area in which killer waves will attack innocent victims and take no prisoners? Is the man oblivious to the wave, and simply dancing? It's up to you. Unless you want to use a translator and spoil it all. (For the record, this was taken in Saint-Malo, Brittany.)
DISCLAIMER: This thread is not to be taken seriously. It's meant to be silly. It's not all a joke, either, but please, think before you respond.
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