Dude lol nobody's had a legit chimney sweep since 1950. There aren't enough houses with chimneys like that, you just get a house cleaner to do it or do it yourself.
I don't know if there's one thing I'd define as being English. It's lots of little things. It's shrugging and rolling our eyes at rain in August. It's being a bit disdainful and yet wildly jealous of other countries and their languages and culture. It's being able to tell who's from the next town over just from the way they pronounce "harvester" or whether or not it's "Pompey" or "Portsmouth". It's knocking off from work and going straight to the pub. It's calling everyone you meet "mate", if both of you are between the ages of 16 and 30. It's being able to spot a chav from 500 yards. It's standing in the freezing cold clutching a pasty and a plastic cup full of tea because the trains are running two hours late because there are leaves on the track and fuck it, if you wait five more minutes it'll probably turn up. It's giving people a long, loaded stare if they cut in front of you in a queue because you don't fucking do that, queuing is important and polite and without it civilisation as we know it would collapse!!!11!one
I could go on forever about all these tiny little things. But I will now stop gushing and drowning you in horrifically displayed patriotism. Do excuse me. /covers it up again
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branchandroot
no subject
Date: 2010-10-22 09:54 pm (UTC)I don't know if there's one thing I'd define as being English. It's lots of little things. It's shrugging and rolling our eyes at rain in August. It's being a bit disdainful and yet wildly jealous of other countries and their languages and culture. It's being able to tell who's from the next town over just from the way they pronounce "harvester" or whether or not it's "Pompey" or "Portsmouth". It's knocking off from work and going straight to the pub. It's calling everyone you meet "mate", if both of you are between the ages of 16 and 30. It's being able to spot a chav from 500 yards. It's standing in the freezing cold clutching a pasty and a plastic cup full of tea because the trains are running two hours late because there are leaves on the track and fuck it, if you wait five more minutes it'll probably turn up. It's giving people a long, loaded stare if they cut in front of you in a queue because you don't fucking do that, queuing is important and polite and without it civilisation as we know it would collapse!!!11!one
I could go on forever about all these tiny little things. But I will now stop gushing and drowning you in horrifically displayed patriotism. Do excuse me. /covers it up again