Can’t argue a bit with that assessment wrt English and its variants. This I’ve got and Sen’s got with the accent ain’t immediate for following to most past Yorkshire, then throw dialect in and there’s points it turns toward a language of its own entire.
Beauty of it is, fucks with those brashing in posh and proper like they’ve a right to saying what is and ain’t language. Argue this our dialect’s English sings just as right as theirs and watch em turn red in the face. Sen hisself had a talent running rings around the manky knobs.
Saying it ain’t less right’s not to say it’s the same sphere of comprehensible, or it ain’t so without eh prolonged exposure. Which you’ll find yourself having in time Talik, no doubt there. c; Eh and meanwhile. Won’t say I’m any more comprehensible past sobriety than Senan ever was, nor in daily convo, but
Ey but here’s a cheat code for you, Talik. Times I get obscure, all you’ve to do is give my elbow a tug and tell me ‘Vevay, Vevay, slow down’ or ‘Vevay, back to earth,’ and then back to earth and comprehensible (ish) speech I’ll go, seeing as that’s where my Talik is and where I wish being.
Right, and here I’ll tell you something of Burn Bridge, eh not that there’s so much for telling, and you tell me something of your family, aye? What it’s been like growing among em, what it’s been like keeping whatever contact with em, seems the lots of you’ve got closeness and that’s something I admire, aye.
Likesaid, truth about Burn Bridge’s there ain’t much to it. Half the time it ain’t marked out proper, which I’m guessing you yourself saw, seeking it out. Bright spot of that’s gets it to feeling a bit of an inside secret among the locals, or else the locals who’ve been there long enough for taking root. There’s a contingent of us’ve been there years now, aye and more than a handful’ve called it there’s decades more than myself.
Outside that cluster of us, town’s getting to be a place between places, eh, liminal space, like? Those that come here’re looking for a landing spot more’n anything, somewhere for sleeping between commutes. Well and. Part it’s the fact of what space the country’s got and hasn’t got, and most passing through’d not distinguish Burn Bridge from Pannal, and no fault to em. There’s little kept within the town itself for doing, so a body seeking entertainment’s like to head over to the aforementioned Pannal or up to Harrogate, assuming they’ve sounder transport than the fuckall we’ve got for public transit.
Most of what we’ve gots homes and then a couple of pubs, one of em known, one of em less so. The second ain’t pretty, but it’s quieter and more alive, both, making it my choice most often if I’m keeping near to home. Know the publicans by this point, know the usual crowd and how to work their navigating, what’ll please em or else set em off.
Eh and out back of that pub, there’s the alleyway we used to get fucked up and break shite, for lack of more delicate terms. Tried racing rats a few times but then the rodent’s weren’t keen for complying and we took to placing bets of bolt races instead. Eh and the owner at the time’d give a few quid for raising ruckus if tourists came round. Kept them away and the pub as the man liked it, hey?
The people ain’t so rotten, most of em. Got something of Britain’s usual suspects in the way of arse mindedness and as is bound to be, but there’ve been enough of us opposing the old horse shite standard to sway minds a bit toward the eh progressive, ish. And then there was Moira seeing to us years back, making clear there’d be no tolerating damage done to we of the less mill standard youth.
Fact is most days I’ve no mind against the eh minimalism in accommodations. Tradeoff here’s closer presence of fields and scant forests, even got bluebells when the time’s right. [ … ] Like to show you em sometime, Talik. Can stretch out there an hour and more on a good day, not a body interrupting and just the sounds of sheeps nearby.
Here, ey, small storytelling for you. There’s the beck nearby, full of crayfish and there were an old fish tank of my aunt’s, she’d not had a guppy in ages so I fettled up the thing and kitted it with rocks and plants, the like, picked up a handful of crayfish and had em several months. Work all right til I got the bright notion inviting the girls, eh, Nelli and Pippa to add a couple of their own. Surprising no one knows em now, they spent spare moments coaxing the things to mating, up to and including staging a crayfish centric version of The Bachelor.
Ended up setting em free some point, myself sneaking out with a sack middle of the night, just to give the fellas a break.
Eh well and one of em’d got to pinching, and I’d got sick to death bandaging my fingers.
2/2
Beauty of it is, fucks with those brashing in posh and proper like they’ve a right to saying what is and ain’t language. Argue this our dialect’s English sings just as right as theirs and watch em turn red in the face. Sen hisself had a talent running rings around the manky knobs.
Saying it ain’t less right’s not to say it’s the same sphere of comprehensible, or it ain’t so without eh prolonged exposure. Which you’ll find yourself having in time Talik, no doubt there. c; Eh and meanwhile. Won’t say I’m any more comprehensible past sobriety than Senan ever was, nor in daily convo, but
Ey but here’s a cheat code for you, Talik. Times I get obscure, all you’ve to do is give my elbow a tug and tell me ‘Vevay, Vevay, slow down’ or ‘Vevay, back to earth,’ and then back to earth and comprehensible (ish) speech I’ll go, seeing as that’s where my Talik is and where I wish being.
Right, and here I’ll tell you something of Burn Bridge, eh not that there’s so much for telling, and you tell me something of your family, aye? What it’s been like growing among em, what it’s been like keeping whatever contact with em, seems the lots of you’ve got closeness and that’s something I admire, aye.
Likesaid, truth about Burn Bridge’s there ain’t much to it. Half the time it ain’t marked out proper, which I’m guessing you yourself saw, seeking it out. Bright spot of that’s gets it to feeling a bit of an inside secret among the locals, or else the locals who’ve been there long enough for taking root. There’s a contingent of us’ve been there years now, aye and more than a handful’ve called it there’s decades more than myself.
Outside that cluster of us, town’s getting to be a place between places, eh, liminal space, like? Those that come here’re looking for a landing spot more’n anything, somewhere for sleeping between commutes. Well and. Part it’s the fact of what space the country’s got and hasn’t got, and most passing through’d not distinguish Burn Bridge from Pannal, and no fault to em. There’s little kept within the town itself for doing, so a body seeking entertainment’s like to head over to the aforementioned Pannal or up to Harrogate, assuming they’ve sounder transport than the fuckall we’ve got for public transit.
Most of what we’ve gots homes and then a couple of pubs, one of em known, one of em less so. The second ain’t pretty, but it’s quieter and more alive, both, making it my choice most often if I’m keeping near to home. Know the publicans by this point, know the usual crowd and how to work their navigating, what’ll please em or else set em off.
Eh and out back of that pub, there’s the alleyway we used to get fucked up and break shite, for lack of more delicate terms. Tried racing rats a few times but then the rodent’s weren’t keen for complying and we took to placing bets of bolt races instead. Eh and the owner at the time’d give a few quid for raising ruckus if tourists came round. Kept them away and the pub as the man liked it, hey?
The people ain’t so rotten, most of em. Got something of Britain’s usual suspects in the way of arse mindedness and as is bound to be, but there’ve been enough of us opposing the old horse shite standard to sway minds a bit toward the eh progressive, ish. And then there was Moira seeing to us years back, making clear there’d be no tolerating damage done to we of the less mill standard youth.
Fact is most days I’ve no mind against the eh minimalism in accommodations. Tradeoff here’s closer presence of fields and scant forests, even got bluebells when the time’s right. [ … ] Like to show you em sometime, Talik. Can stretch out there an hour and more on a good day, not a body interrupting and just the sounds of sheeps nearby.
Here, ey, small storytelling for you. There’s the beck nearby, full of crayfish and there were an old fish tank of my aunt’s, she’d not had a guppy in ages so I fettled up the thing and kitted it with rocks and plants, the like, picked up a handful of crayfish and had em several months. Work all right til I got the bright notion inviting the girls, eh, Nelli and Pippa to add a couple of their own. Surprising no one knows em now, they spent spare moments coaxing the things to mating, up to and including staging a crayfish centric version of The Bachelor.
Ended up setting em free some point, myself sneaking out with a sack middle of the night, just to give the fellas a break.
Eh well and one of em’d got to pinching, and I’d got sick to death bandaging my fingers.