Accentuated.

Oh, for the love of...

Well yes, I watched another one. Nothing too hardcore, thankfully. I actually feel pretty alright. It was one of those low-budget English comedies along the lines of Bend it Like Beckham, with this one entitled Virtual Sexuality.

That's going to snag a few hits from keyword-searches alone, I suspect. Much like how I found out about and pondered for quite a bit some bloke in Pakistan (I think) stumbling onto TehUneducated with a search for "female ejaculation". In the light of the lack of concrete evidence, we conjecture that his interest was purely scientific.

...Right.

As with most productions in the category, Virtual Sexuality is a light-hearted and interesting enough take on...nothing in particular. Alright, a brief overview is that it involves a nerd-geek, a hot (passably) chick, and some science fiction that came out of nowhere, like a flasher lurking in the corner of a dark street alley. Somehow, in another one of those done to death new-technology-experiences-unanticipated-power-surge scenes, her perfect male image is brought to life...with her mind. While she potters off home, having no idea. Mild hilarity ensues.

The film is forgettable enough, but it reminded me of just how unbelievably sexy the English accent is. At risk of sounding like a a broken record, simply lovely.

Yes, yes, I'm a white-worshipping, jia kan tang bananaman. Can you believe some punk kid actually called me the last? Like, wtf, bananaman? He probably meant it as some mortal insult, but it sorta defused me by throwing me off track for a bit. How do you hit someone who thinks bananaman is a fighting word? More complimentary than anything really, because as detailed by the illustrous person whose name I forgot heading the latest (yet another) Speak Good English Campaign, broken English has been spoken for so long and accepted as the norm, and even a measure of identity, that speaking proper English is seen as "putting on airs".

Away with thee, Demons of Digression!

But, yes. English accent. Very, very sexy leh. And the women...well some...just have this very elegant look that goes perfectly with it. Fuck that, Mike Meyers playing Austin Powers in Goldmember turned me on, chest hair and all, in that bit of dialogue with his father, if you can at all recall it.

To aid visualization of this unhealthy fetish of mine, I must resort to more vulgar measures.

Sex with a British Chick: "Mmm...oh yes...YES! Right there, you animal! Do it to me...take me...oh fuuuuuck yes!" You can't make an accent evident in text. Not with dirty talk. Imagination, to please be using.

Sex with homegrown, made in Singapore Ah Lian: "WAH KAN NIN NA SI BEI SONG AHHH. HWAHHH!" ...

A ridiculously large sum of money which I don't have but will find some way to pay for provocative pictures of Keira Knightley! Sad ah. I'd say "A Date With", but I'd prolly screw it up and it'd degenerate into yet another one-sided psychotic stalker relationship. Um, did I say "yet another"? I mean "A". In jest. For comic relief. Believe or die.

Definitely a chipper mood, tonight.

To wrap it up, I'll relate something Mr Ancob said about TehUneducated, which I'd meant to but forgot somehow. I did mention he visited this site and found it satisfactory. He then went on to say, in a subsequent meeting, that some of the writing here might even be publishable, if only I'd stop saying "Fuck" so much. As a sort of demonstration that it was a professional statement rather than personal objection, he went on to relate a rather amusing anecdote.

He was in the Navy back in the days, you see, and the phrase "curse like a seaman" came about for a reason. "Fuck" was indeed almost a middle syllable of every word in the sailor dictionary. So it came to pass that they had an official dinner, with everyone smartly decked out in their finest, at a class restaurant with parents, girlfriends and such. With what he wanted woefully out of reach, a sailor, impeccable in his attire for the evening, turned to the mother of his sweetheart, smiled and said smoothly,

"Would you pass the fucking butter?"

It is his tale, and told as such, mildly embellished for effect on my part. He then went on to suggest that I could possibly replace it with "bother".

It was a highly intriguing suggestion, to sanitize my writing. I truthfully told him that, well, I would consider it, but seeing as this is writing of a personal nature with the mild fact that no one reads the shit anyway, it was probably unneccessary. Intriguing and related, though, because I've always found "bother" to be a very English sort of sanitary child-swear, as opposed to "drat", or "darn", which seem less indigenous to that part of the world.

"Wear your macintosh, love! It looks like rain today."

"Oh, bother my macintosh!", the child would say, but reaches for it anyway.

"And your wellies! I don't want you getting mud on you new shoes."

"Oh, bother my wellies!", the child mutters, pulling them on.

"I'll be waiting for you outside in the car after school with your step-mother, alright?"

"Oh, fuck that bitch!", the child exclaims without thinking, and then freezes as it sinks in.

"What. Did. You. Say.", the father, appearing for the first time in text, says quietly in slow rage.

"I'm sssoo ssorry D-dad...", the poor kid sputters. "I-I didn't m-mean it!"

"I WILL NOT HAVE THAT SORT OF LANGUAGE IN MY HOUSE, DO YOU UNDERSTAND?", the father roars.

The child bursts into tears, sincerely remorseful.

"WE ARE ENGLISH, AND YOU WILL SPEAK LIKE ONE. AT THE VERY LEAST, CALL HER A 'SORRY OLD NAG'!"

...Ok, sense of humour defective.

Mr Ancob does have his point, but I believe that strong language, when not overdone, can add to the humour of something, or serve to make a point better. It is...weird, reading the papers and seeing a columnist tell you something is so "darn fun".

What, you don't agree?

Well, bother you.

Lah.