Lost in Translation (Day 8)

My Datajack, actually, Wu’s Datajack, shit the bed so my last day at the lake was without internet. (Sorry Jeff) This is yesterday’s post.


I got a series of cryptic emails from Tabby’s relations over the pond today. They left me scratching my head over how two cultures that share a common language can fail to communicate with each other.

To back up, Tabby is an animal hoarder. She has three dogs (down from four) and two cats (also down from four). And she just acquired a female horse that looks like this.


She gives her pets strange names. Her mini pinscher is Mushroom, her hairless Chinese Crested is Werm, her Pugoodle is Pugsly (which, to be fair, I would have named him) and her cats are named Kitty and The Cat. Thank God she doesn’t have kids. That would be a disaster.

She submitted this list of candidates for her lovely mare: Firestone, Devises, Kendall, Sukasana, Arrakis, Marmite, Tea leaves, Sandstorm, Sirrus, Ibis.

I was a little surprised that Glue Stick  and Ikea Swedish Meatballs weren’t on the list.

Then I got involved in this bizarre conversation with Tabby’s family via email.

Oh, FYI, Tabby’s a Brit and I can’t understand a word she says. She’ll say to me, “I’ll see you at half six (pronounced “hahf”)” and I’ll have to ask, “Do you mean five thirty or six thirty?” Honestly, to this day I couldn’t tell you.

Okay, here are the emails. The first one came with this picture that confused me because it’s of a man but he is calling him “she”.


Just remember, she will automatically become “the special one”

Tabby’s Dad: Just remember, she will automatically become “the special one”

Me: Is this a British thing? I’m confused. You must translate for the American. What’s a Mourinho?

Tabby: Matt is seriously disturbed.

Me: Your American friend is seriously confused.

Tabby: Vivienne needs a short explanation on English Football politics. Or I could just ask Matt to explain …

Candy (Tabby’s Sister): Wot the fuck u all on about?

Tabby’s Dad: Matt speaks with forked tongue and is not to be approached

Me: This is really helpful. Thanks.

Tabby’s Dad: Vivienne,  in England we have a religion called football, soccer to you. And the uncrowned head manages the best team/club based in London. To name anything after Him is to confer godlike status, I rest my case.

Me: Oh great. That clears things right up.

Beth (Tabby’s other sister): I is like well confused to wot u lot is on about why don’t ya’all speak English innit?!

Candy: True dat!

Tabby: Beth you have been in The Land of the Cock(ney) too long innit.

Me: I still don’t know what the fuck you are talking about. Why am I involved in this thread anyway? And what the hell is a Mourinho? He looks male but you are calling him a she. I AM SO CONFUSED!

I finally got to the bottom of the conversation, NO THANKS TO ANY OF TABBY’S RELATIVES. How did they even get my email anyway? It was about naming her stupid horse Mourinho, I guess.

I think Tabby and I work as friends because even though we walk our dogs every day, we never run out of stuff to talk about because we don’t really know what the other person is saying.

It’s like one of those mail order bride situations where everyone gets along great until they start speaking the same language and the Asian/Russian bride starts demanding some human rights.

I’m thinking of banding together with Tabby’s dogs for a class action lawsuit.

On another note, when my friends ignore my 5am phone call I put on a Savage Love Podcast to listen to on my walk. The one I listened to this morning (#345) started with an amazcompelling rant about our culture of rape, Facebook, and why men should condemn all rapey, misogonistic, slut-shaming talk. At all times. If they ever want to get laid again.

Of course I’m on board with all this. Of course I’ve had all those thoughts myself. But nobody can rant like Dan Savage. I love him.

Here’s some vacation stuff for my dad (HI DAD!) to look at.


Testiclese gives waterskiing a shot.


He almost gets up …


And down he goes. What a good sport he is.


Jumping off the boat.


Excellent form

9 thoughts on “Lost in Translation (Day 8)

  1. So Luke just renamed Boris the Monk/Quaker
    Parrot to Bluetip Bue-us. After reading THIS
    blog I seriously was wondering had I become
    an animal hoarder as well?

    I only have one dog: Tess. Luke has Truman:
    the pig(still have not figured out the strike through)
    pug. Then there are the two cats: Buryl & Mama Kitty,
    the umpteenth Beta/Siamese Bagel, Fluffy: the
    Bearded Dragon & of course my dreams come true:
    Gracie & Mr. G: the horses. All these animal friends
    make up for the pitiful existence I have created for my
    one & only being determined not to parent any other
    children as a single caregiver & wishing somehow a
    melding of families would bring to me my dream of
    five children. Well: how do you make God laugh?
    make a plan.

    Yesterday Beau-us bit Luke between his nose & his
    eye after repeated warnings with his little terra dactyl
    beak & all the ferocity of the pompous little chicken
    hawk from looney tunes to let Luke know the poking &
    prodding & bugging & bad energy steaming from his
    very core was not going to fly with this guy. Of course
    I was on the side of Boris (now Bue-us). The lessons
    our animal friends teach us! Their language seems
    so much easier to understand than the whinning,
    complaining & hurtful words that spew from
    so many humanoids.

    The blissfullness of sharing yet not communicating
    with any real understanding when that bantering
    babbles about as you so hilariously hit the
    mark summoning up the simple picture of the language
    barrier pinged the reality that that is
    exactly how I exist!

    Oh thank God for Vivienne’s BLOG!

  2. I might be an animal hoarder as well… does boarding count? I have 2 cats (Mia and Max), a bearded dragon (Tiberius) and I have one dog (Napoleon), but on Sunday I had 6 dogs… (Raven, Chaco, Beau, Mia-the dog, and Oakley…and my own dog – Napoleon).

    One of my training friends actually OWNS/CO-OWNS 30 dogs. Of these dogs, 9 of them life with her, and the other ones are in foster/other homes. She also boards. So, going over to her house, she always has like 20+ dogs at her place.

  3. Mourinho is a FOOTBALL coach. We do not play ‘soccer’ in the UK…..well at least not in public.

    Family, football religion and politics both come into play as I married a Man U fan and my father is a Chelsea supporter. Crunch times come at any relevant family episode…..weddings, funerals, naming of children, dogs, cats or horses, skype calls, emails, facebook, and of course the ongoing UEFA champions league.

    Thank god I do not want children as I am pretty sure that my father has me contracted to name my first born “Chelsea”.

    • For your information, if someone wants to be called “Marino” they shouldn’t spell their name More-in-ho. Just sayin.

      I still don’t understand anything that comes out of your mouth.

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