English-American Dictionary

[Interrobang Pie]

OMGWUTMEPOSTINGINLINSOFTHENIFTYWTFBBQ

english2american.com/

Shouldn't it be American-English? Meh.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I have something else to do.

[The Pletch]

Excellent guide. Perhaps I can actually communicate with my British friends who don't carefully cull their messages of slang like our SVers across the pond.
I must say that I've always found Cockney rhyming slang a bit juvenile, though.

[stupid hos is my enemy]

Ah dinnae ken whit ye're oan aboot. Shut yer pie hole.

[The Pletch]

Well, except you, Fade. You're just straight up obnoxious.

I could read the sentence easily, mind, but still.

[stupid hos is my enemy]

Obnoxious? Me? Never.

[Interrobang Pie]

Cockney rhyming slang is stupid, pointless and has no rythm whatsoever. Maybe that's the point of it...?

[CoolCorky]

Yorkshire is the best accent. Full Stop.

[Interrobang Pie]

I wonder if CC's from Yorkshire and is actually self-promoting himself...

Ah well, I live in the South East anyway.

[Naem]

This makes me slightly sad that there is nobody here to discuss Portuguese accents with me.

[Sergeant Dull]

Oct 9, 2008 5:34:58 GMT 10 stupid hos is my enemy said:

Ah dinnae ken whit ye're oan aboot. Shut yer pie hole.

lol aoe3

[Tené]

That bloke's got quite a sense of humour.

[Admiral Mundane]

Oct 10, 2008 8:18:14 GMT 10 Tené said:

That bloke's got quite a sense of humour.

Ripper!...ohwait that's Australian >>

[Sergeant Dull]

My London accent fluctuates because I'm exposed to several different accents. All the time. Some not so desirable. Like "non-heterosexual Speech"

I do realise that will be filtered.

cat’s eyes n little reflectors mounted in the centre of the road, amid the white lines. When you’re driving along at night your headlights reflect in them to show where the road goes. When you’re driving like a screaming banshee they gently bounce the car up and down in order to unsettle it, causing you subsequently to lose traction and crash the rented 1.3-litre VW Polo through a fence and into a yard. Everything goes black — your senses are dead but for the faint smell of petrol, and the dim glow of a light coming on in the farmhouse. Somewhere in the distance a big dog barks. As you slowly regain consciousness, you find that you’re in a soft bed, surrounded by candles and with a faint whiff of incense drifting on the breeze from the open window. You see a familiar face peering down at you — could it be Stinky Potter, from down by the cottages? Wasn’t that corner just about where they found poor old Danny’s motorbike? And how does this guy know your name? If you try to run, roll the dice and turn to page seventeen. If you choose to kiss the old man, turn to page twelve.

[The Pletch]

My accent regularly switches around purely because I like doing accents. I can't really do a London accent, though, just a Cockney one. This is purely due to my lack of exposure to the brits, and that damnable gecko taught me cockney.

[Interrobang Pie]

I think QI had something about cat's eyes last weekend. Apparently, there's some rip off in California (or somewhere in America), and they break whenever you drive over them. Smaaaart.