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Whenever we were banned from using the toilet for fear of dirtying it up, or kept outside the kitchen and its sumptuous aroma, it only meant a single thing: company was coming.
It wasn’t just any company this time around, it was the transatlantic variety. A family of four from England, and my cousins to be exact.
I wasn’t much help to my mother in the kitchen (and even now I have to wonder just how curry goes from A to B), nor was I a Cinderella house-maid (not until much later anyway). So I cleaned and prepared however my age would let me. I focused on the wax in my inner ears, a condition that was starting to annoy. After digging around in the darkened holes for a bit, I had myself a respectable pile of wax; not enough to start a museum, but enough to build a tiny wax society (where a voluptuous waxed-up Romi was the leader of the lowly wax peasants).
Just as I was finishing up the draw bridge for my wax castle, the front door opened (the real one not the wax one), and there they were:
-The mysterious relatives from England
The aunt and uncle passed right through my radar, but the cousins were the ones that moved me. They were surrounded by a certain aura, something that screamed out “cool”. But then again, what else would you expect from teenagers sporting wind-blown hair, reflective shades, and shiny nylon shorts?
If that wasn’t cool enough, these fellers even had an accent too!
I had never heard such a tone before; it was intriguing and intimidating all at once…I needed to find out more.
And so I followed the teenage cousins around, trying to absorb as much as I possibly could. They spoke of a peculiar land with a Queen and a castle and a lot of giant buses. The more they told us of their fabled land, the more they seemed to tire of ours.
This became even more apparent when they flat out said “We’re bored”. It happened on a Friday night, as my teenage brother was warming up Nintendo and setting up a game of pool. Now I would happily pay a cover-charge for video games and pool, but the cousins were looking for something more…like a reckless night on the town. My brother knew little of the after-dark scene, so he did what any sheltered child would do: he looked up “night clubs” in the Yellow Pages.
After finding an appropriate option (based on the “hottest club in town” self-assessment in the tag-line), my brother showed the ad to my father. He simply laughed it off (though trembling at the thought of any one of us “living it up”), but promised us a trip to the water park the following day.
So the English cousins were trapped, which meant that they were searching for trouble. Trouble came in the form of the older cousin, who grabbed my fish from the tank, and dangled it over his gaping mouth. He kept on pretending it would fall into his mouth, until I began to cry. At that point he plopped it back in the tank, but I was already steaming mad.
But then something funny happened. The cousin calmed me down with his well-delivered English words, and it sort of kind of…lulled me. For the rest of the trip, no matter how obnoxious the cousins’s behaviour became, I was instantly soothed by their English tone of voice. I’m not quite sure if the beginnings of incestual lust was afoot, or if I actually wanted to be them.
Or maybe it was their accents, their sweet luscious English accents (I can finally see how my accent-fetish began). The accent was almost like an iron shield, protecting them from judgment, and excusing them from doing things the Indian way. ‘Cause how can you badger your sons to marry Indian girls when they sound like Mr. Darcy? No you cannot, which is probably why they both ended up with white chicks.
And those were my cousins, the antithesis of my siblings and I, and the ones that were easy to loathe as the years went on (and as the memory of their accent faded out). It’s actually been ages since I heard from either one of them, but I can only hope that they’re somewhat fat, with receding hair and a hungry disposition. That would be a great thing to know, as I have carefully honed an accent of my very own (“Canadian with a valley girl twist”…excuse me while I have the last laugh…)
Accents are sweet. I have always wondered if my Canadian accent is actually noticeable at all. I do tend to say ‘eh’ a lot.
It’s funny what we all find attractive. I have a soft spot for Asian men and also find Hispanic men adorable! So, you go hot and crazy for the accent, huh? I’m surprised I was even able to comment after reading about your tiny ear wax society! OMG!
I hate to admit it but any man with a British accent can pretty much one insult me and I would still think he was charming two make me take my pants off without even really trying…sad but true! British men can have their way with me! As for the wax figures….just keep them away from the heat. P.S. Did you ever get the trip to the water park! Obviousily that’s on everyones mind 😉
Hugh Grant saying “fuckety, fuck, fuck” It sounds so hot and I want to jump all over his pale and pasty body. ’nuff said.
Dude, I’d STILL pay for a night of pool and Nintendo.
All I can think about is Mr. Darcy. I think I’ll go drool over Colin Firth for awhile….
Accents are the best! Some Australian (or British, or Scotish, or any of them actually) could look me in the face and tell me I’m the ugliest creature he’s ever seen and I’d probably just look at him with googly eyes,smile all goofy, and nod my head in agreement.
I was at work today, hiding behind my giant blue cubicle walls when I heard an accent..an english one to be exact, and that of a female. I jumped out of my seat like a bat out of hell only to be disappointed that the face didn’t match the attractiveness of the accent. Oh well.
Feh. Had an XGF, long ago, who left me for a chap from the sceptered isle. Comeuppance is a fine thing: She dropped out of school (which she wasn’t nearly as serious about as her parents were) and ran off to England with him. Within a year, he’d left her— stranded, with no money for plane-fare home. She had to call home and weep to daddy for some time, as I understand. As I told a mutual friend, “Shit, if all she wanted was an accent, I could’ve done that.”
So, inquiring minds, and all that—Cockney or Posh?
Yeah, cousins are not my favorite characters in the whole family-relative scenario. But, some of them did have cool toys, minus the soothing accents 😉
So all of this gets me to thinking…’I still wanna know what accent Cyber Guy has’ Come on, email me – I won’t tell anyone!!!! 🙂
English accents don’t do a lot for me – every second bastard over here is a pom anyway, including my dear father.
I used to hate Kiwi and South African accents with a passion, but now I don’t mind em at all. My new dislike is the Aussie accent from ‘over east’. Us West Aussies tend to have a less ocker accent – more refined 😉
What accent does it for me…..? Nah – can’t think of any. Dammit. I feel ripped off. I want a knicker dropping accent to lust after.
…where a voluptuous waxed-up Romi…
Sorry, I find myself fixated on that phrase….
Kerplar: I never thought I had an accent before, but the English-accent people I’ve met have always told me that the Canadian accent is distinct and funny-sounding…I don’t know how I feel about that…but ya, what’s a good sentence without “eh”? 😉
JavaQueen: wow, I hope the mention of my epic wax society didn’t distract you for too long, hahaha 😉
sammy25: hahaha, the exact same is true for me!! Like it’s been more than once that an English-accent dude has been prick-ish to me, but I recover from it a lot quicker than I would from someone else (…that’s horrible but true!) Oh well, when they got you, they got you.. 😉
Anja: LOL…and I think that’s the point right there; the fact that they CAN have a pale and pasty body and it’s all just fine if the voice is there 😉
David: hahaha, I am indeed sebaceous among other things…just full of it! In a manner of speaking… 😉
dobeman: DUDE, I would so pay for that too, and maybe some darts too 😉
rambleicious: sigh…Mr. Darcy; he was kind of a “wanker”, but still so adorable in that arrogant way 😉
bluesuit12: oh ya, Scottish and Aussie is good too, and I feel the same; like I could pretty much be told that my face is a waste of space by one of them, haha, and it wouldn’t matter 🙂 🙂 🙂
B Smith: hahaha, okay, well you certainly brought the concept back down to earth, but in reality, I’m no less enchanted by it…foolish I know 😉
Duffboy: those cousins did not have cool toys nor did they want to hang out with me…so their “soothing” accents were their only saving grace, haha 😉
GYL: hahaha…yeah, maybe I’ll tell you that 😉 And oh my gosh, what good is a life without an accent you drop your knickers for?!?!?! How do you feel about the Indian accent? Maybe we can rig you up with one of those 😉
Nigel: you got fixated on that phrase??? You do realize that the wax mentioned here was ear-wax…right? Just checking… 😉
Let’s hope for the sake of all concerned that Nigel MISSED the fact that it was ear wax, OK?
LOL. Accents really can mesmerize, can’t they? People seem so much more exotic with an accent. That’s terrible what your cousin did with your fish. Maybe he needed a taste of the fish food to fix him. Jerk. 😉
Canadian isn’t really much of an accent. You pretty much just change one sound. (one sound from American English, which of course is my standard for no accent) Ow turns into oh, and all of a sudden out and about sounds like oat and a boat. I’m still completely perplexed as to how you could combine that with valley girl, although Em assures me that is exactly what you sound like. You should make a video of yourself, as in a YouTube video, not the other kind although I would not be opposed. Know what I mean Vern?
Ah YouTube, the paradise of the internet. How I miss thee. Soon I will be back!
That’s hilarious! My favorite English dialect in the world is, well, English-English! My Second-favorite is Australian.
The only English dialect of which I’m not too fond is my own–Southern American! The Southern-American dialect is very popular everywhere else.
Even the Beach Boys’ sing, “And the Southern girls, with the way they talk, they knock me out when I’m down there!”
Don’t get me wrong–I love the South. Like any region of the world, it has alot of wonderful things. It’s just that, having lived in the South all my life, I find Southern English boring.
And one more thing, totally off topic: When I hear a young-sounding woman speaking any language in the world, I fall in love with her!