As you well know Anna, the Americans are not known for their benevolence when it comes to anyone else’s sense of humour portraying the ” face ” of Amurika ( in it’s multiple forms ) in a less than air brushed , polished, detached from reality perfection: as for the commander of the base, (Mildenhall?) he had obviously never seen any real fighting.

……they’re not my cousins…although, of all the americans i’ve known in my life, one was nice.

Michelle Obama hasn’t exactly shied away from the media spotlight, has she – but of course, once someone plays the ‘race card’ then its game over to her opponents.

@ JuliaM

Lol…nail, hammer, whack!

As ever, if this was just ignored it would have drifted off into cyber sunset and probably never heard of again (except maybe at a crucial time in the next race for the White House).

Interesting article Anna, loved it, it made me “laugh”.

Americans of course, just do not understand the British sense of humour, but they are learning, after all they did have “Jordan” on one of heir talk shows over there and apparently Jordan is still wondering if she has been got at – or not!

Visiting the States and deploying the British sense of humour can be met with some hilarious results and I forget how many times Americans told me they know someone in Scottt-land, or Cooorn-waaall, and asked; “do you know them”? Probably, I replied, because although the Scots officially hate the English, they all seem to be living in my neck of the woods. (Now, that was a joke), “my best friend is a Scot” (honest) and for a Scot, he has a brilliant sense of humour (as long as people do not put on an appalling Scotch accent and call him “Jimmay” (more than twice a day) , or make obscure references to haggis or bagpipes, or commando wearing kilts, he is fine. Mind you, he is not without a few digs at us and our football or rugby teams, and is never slow at reminding us about the astonishing number of Scots, that invented things and not just “things” really important things etc etc etc, I just ask him to refrain from waxing lyrical ‘Rabbie Burns’ waxing lyrical. Honestly, the mere mention of poor old very long dead Rabbie and my eyes glaze over and trigger severe bouts of psychosomatic yawning. I mean does anyone really want to read the relics of Rabbie translated into the de’il’s tongue? (English)
My friend “Jimmay” (yes his name really is Jimmy sorry), tells me that many people in Scotland, think that all people South of the Border belong to a Morris dancing club and eat our Friday “tea” out of a newspaper, the national dish of, “Vietnamese river cobbler and chips” (since those marauding Spanish nicked all the cod) and that all Londoners really do go out in bowlers and talk with a plum in our mouths and are “freightfully” polite (sic).

Apparently, all of us “English” go out on weekends searching for a queue to join, once found, we all stand politely one behind the other and strike up allegiances and develop that strange phenomena of queue camaraderie. Anyone at all can join one of our queues, from a cage fighting cross dresser, to aunty Mable with a Belize bank account and the very English newage mum wearing a long flowing skirt which reaches just above the ankles and a long knitted cardigan (or good old English woolie) and Doc Martins, hair braided and complete with an array of colourful beads and one of those knitted rainbow coloured hats with three corners and dangly bits, clutching the hand of her child, who has his own colourful knitted three cornered hat with dangly bits, “yes sirreee” anyone can join an English queue and one only very slightly raises the end of ones eyebrow, when new age very white and very English, newage stick thin non meat eating daddy, (fresh from his sit in outside McDonalds), complete with a few years worth of dreadlocks, speaks in a very strong “Afro Caribbean” (or politically incorrect better known as Jamaican) accent, the only thing missing is the sucking of the teeth and that strange flicking thing of the finger and thumb. The only rule for queuers is that, people do not even dare think about pushing in the said queue. If anyone dares to push in an English queue, that old stiff upper lip wobbles and people give a disapproving stare and a fleeting glimpse of “the eye”, before going back to the deep and meaningful conversation they were having with a complete stranger about whether “Cuprinol” really does do what it says on the tin and of course, not forgetting, the weather! Last week, there were a great many queue clubs forming, to talk about the weather, after all they had a lot to talk about with “the floods” in that strange and slightly rude sounding place of “Cockermouth” up there somewhere near Scotland. Oh look we have done a Michael Palin and gone “Full Circle”, proving that we really are a truly diverse society these days and the world isn’t really is just a “Great Big Onion” , so no need at the moment to go planting any “love seeds” until it dies, however, I fear we have yet to reach full “Melting Pot” status and I think we may have erred little, we were supposed to; “Take a pinch of white man and Wrap him up in black skin ” but as the afore mentioned new age travelling stick thin Vegan vegitarian daddy with dreads demonstrates in his baffling “Jamaican” accent, we appear to have got the instructions back to front, took a pinch of black man and wrapped the poor sausage (vegitarian sausage f course) up in white skin and the result is, that we have many people in England, running around trying to look and sound like Black people, fortunately, the trend does not seem to have been reversed and Black people, do not go around trying to emulate the plum in the mouth accent of the English. (With the notable exceptions of Sir Trevor McDonald and Trevor Phillips)