I wrote a longasspost about being Finnish and dad decided to cut power without telling me because he was searching mice from there I try to retype it tomorrow.
^^:lol: I have no clue where the Diego one came from but the olive oil & talking with the hands must be a Mediterranean thing. Here's some I made up... Guys don't refer to other guys as friends. Instead they call each other maklaka You don't believe in looking for an open parking spot. Double parking works much better Even though your chest is harry like a gorrila you insist on having three buttons on your shirt opened exposing the hair but that look isn't complete with a gold chain. The toothpick is optional You ask everyone you meet if they're Greek & when they say no you wonder to yourself why they aren't. Occasionally you may call them a xeno You find it more odd if a person decides not to go with a garlic meal on the first date. Cars arent't your main choice of transporation. Donkeys are. You're more likely to remember all the Greek kinds of cheese then to be able to list all the countries in Europe. Everytime you go to a restaurant you always ask when they makes frappes. Zorba or Alexander the Great is your hero. Finally, here are two things a Greek parent never wants to hear they're children say... I'm moving out! Guess what. I'm no longer eating meat!
you know you're French when you love eating snails and frog legs (personally i haven't eaten any frog leg, yet :devil hey i've talked about the british and their stereotypes today....quite funny... :devil: i wont tell it here, don't wanna have any enemies
You know you're American when you don't understand the metric system, even though practically every other country in the world uses it. ^That bugs me, why don't we just change to the metric system already?
You know you're polish when... (found these on a website) -you have at least one relative who wore a full polish dress with sequins for a special occasion -your family dog understands polish -every sunday afternoon of your childhood was spent visiting your babcia(grandma) or ciocia Marysia <<--this is dead on for me... -you've experienced the phenomena of 150 people fitting into babcias basement during a family party -You are sick of meals that consist of pierogis and golombkis -you were speaking polish before you were english - you were surprised to find out that polish food was actually sold in stores -you thought that everyone made thier own kielbasa -you never eat meat on christmas eve or good friday - you ate star cookies and paczki for dessert - you can understand polish better than you can speak it - you have a least 6 male relatives named stasiu, wladek, or janek -you have relatives that aren't really your relatives - your relatives furniture was as comfortable as sitting on plastic -you thought star cookies and kruscziki were common at all weddings - you thought everyone got pinched on the cheeks and money stuffed in there pockets - your mother is overly protective of the males in the family no matter what age All of these are like completely true for me! And I'm only half polish...
You know you’re an honorary Australian when: You’ve caught the blowfly buzzing around your head with your bare hands. You’ve had an argument with a mate over whether Ford or Holden makes the better cars. You’ve done the “Hot Sand” dance at the beach while running from the ocean back to your towel. You’ve been to a day-nighter cricket match and screamed until your throat went raw. You’ve had to decide between putting up with the mosquitos and moving the barbeque inside. You have a storu that somehow revolves around excess consumption of alcohol and a mate named “Dave”. You’re secretly annoyed by Russell Crowe. You own a pair of thongs for everyday use, and another pair of “dress thongs” for special occasions. You’ve squeezed Vegemite between Vita Wheats to make little Vegemite worms. You realize that lifeguards are the only people who can get away with wearing Speedos. You’ve been in a ute with a blue heeler in the back. Your weekends are spent barracking for your favorite sports team. You’ve played beach cricket with a tennis ball and a bat fashioned out of a fence post. You’ve been on a beach holiday and probably stayed in a caravan. You constantly shorten words. For example, breakfast becomes “brekkie”, afternoon becomes “arvo”, barbeque becomes “barbie”. You are more scared of bindies in summer than you are of redback spiders. You know that the bond of mateship can never be limited by geographical distance. most of these are soooo true...
You know you're Afrikaans when: There is no middle ground with opinions. You love it or hate it. Bonus points if none of your opinions match those of your parents. Christmas involves a barbecue, swimsuits, and more alcohol then you knew existed. You secretly admit that our language is ridiculous, but don't dare tell your family. Dinner regularly consists of at least 4 kinds of meat. Preferably chicken, pork, lamb, and sausage. The sausage is boerwors. If you don't eat at least two helpings of EVERYTHING your father goes into a sulk complaining "you hate my food." You know what Melktert is. ^You like it.^ You know what keoksisters are. And you have made your own. You have made your own boerwors. You are willing to drive for an hour or more just to buy some biltong. You like biltong. You like Droiewors. Your family manages to find every other Afrikaaner within 20km, and you become best friends with them all. You have at least three family members with Afrikaans-bastardized names. Examples: Mary/Maria = Marietjie (this was almost my name.), Phil = Phillippus, Jake = Jacoubas Your grandparents fought in the Boer war. On the SA side. You worship rugby and cricket like Gods. You have woken up at 3am and driven an hour just to watch a rugby game on a 13inch screen with a bunch of smelly, screaming men. You share a last name with a player on the Springboks. Within days of moving to a new town, you have already found three rugby clubs. Your family attends "Afrikaaner days" at said clubs. Someone in your family owns a bizarre crossbreed shop. Example: My Ouma owned a burger joint/flower arranging shop. You say yaw instead of yeah. You say Och Shaimpies instead of Oh man... You have watched or attended an ostrich race. You aren't creeped out by ostriches. You LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE pap. You eat pap for breakfast with milk. Pap appears with more then three of your dinners per week. You have ever said "Cat Cat, beine Schpeka booom die boom hestiel." and then tickled a young child. Your grandmother drives with a shotgun across her lap to shoot carjackers. You think the blaster is a perfectly reasonable invention. Your grandmother smokes 8 packs a day. And still sounds fine. Gunfire next door is routine. You have been sitting in your bedroom and, at least twice, witnessed a fugitive running through your yard, being rapidly pursued by confused cops. You have bibles in at least three languages in your house. And only one of them ever gets read. If you see snow before the age of 10, you're lucky. You see snow for the first time and are so excited that you wet yourself. At the age of 19. You own at least 15 items of clothing made by Billabong. And you wear at least two of them every day. You get offended if people ask if you're british/australian. Your last name is frequently mispronounced, no matter how basic it really is. WOW, long post. lol.
You know you're Australian if people ask you whether you have koalas in your backyard. You know you're Australian if to you jelly means the wobbly stuff. You know you're Australian if to you, December/January is usually the wet season. You know you're Australian if going out for you means putting on insect repellent and sunscreen.
You know you're Italian when you don't look like an Italian at all and people keep telling you "Oooh, your Italian is perfect! How long have you been living here?" YKYAIW you have lunch at your grandma's and you know she won't let you stand from the table until you've eaten any edible thing in the house. YKYAIW you're walking around in mIlan in the sunniest day of the whole year and the sky is grey and you say "Wow, I can see it!" YKYAIW for people who live abroad you are a "mafioso" and "terrone" even if you don't come from Southern Italy. YKYAIW you go abroad and your hosts ask you to cook pasta, pizza and lasagna every day. YKYAIW the term "thanks" does not appear in you vucabulary. YKYAIW your parents won't let you go studying in NYC because "they successfully built their own life in Italy and I can do this as well without moving to the other side of the world."
that bolton t'internet got anything to do with peter kay lol. :lol: you know you're from newcastle when... people expect you do wear shorts in november can't understand a word you say and you use alan shearer and newcaslte brown ale to explain where in england it is
You know you are Dutch when people ask you if Holland is the capital of Amsterdam (LOL) You know you are Dutch when the word 'free' ALWAYS catches your attention, no matter what. You know you are Dutch when you go on holiday to some abandoned place and meet other Dutch people.
Or if Holland is the capital of Denmark and Kopenhagen is the capital of Amsterdam :lol: Too true! You know you're Dutch when you ocasionally "pull food out of the wall" You know you're Dutch when you go on a date and you split the bill. You know you're Dutch when you instantly recognise the smell of weed, although you've never smoked the stuff. When abroad, you know you're Dutch when you enter a coffeeshop and ask for spacecake. You know you're Dutch when strange foreigners smell your tobacco because they don't believe you when you tell them you don't smoke weed.
You know you're german when you get more unemployment benefit than you'd earn money if you worked. You know you're german when your kid comes home from kindergarten and talks to you in turkish. On vacation: You know that you're german when you're the only one wondering why it isn't allowed for tourists to go into a restaurant wearing shorts and flipflops (and nothing else) You know you're german when people approach you and speak german to you before you even open your mouth. (Because really, we're obvious ) BTW, I'm proud of where I come from, yeah, really.