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The Return of El Gorko! - A little less than a happy high — LiveJournal
komos
komos
The Return of El Gorko!
Ok, when I said I had never had a nickname, I was a tad inaccurate. mudguts reminded me of a story I shared here not too long ago. I had a teacher in grade school who insisted on calling everyone by their full name, and because my parents saw fit to name me "Peter Paul" instead of "Pierre Michel" as originally planned, I was quickly branded "Almond Joy" for the duration.

Chorus: Just be thankful it wasn’t "Mounds"

There was another I remembered, too. My first restaurant job was beneath a chef who decided it would be fun to call me "El Gorko." Needless to say, I didn’t stick around too long.

Now I’m wondering what you’re supposed to call someone previously known as "Frenchie."

Chorus: "Freebie," maybe?

Current Mood: Frenchie lies low

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Comments
From: skygoodwill Date: March 25th, 2003 10:20 am (UTC) (Link)

Now I’m wondering what you’re supposed to call someone previously known as "Frenchie."


Answer:
"Freedom"?!?!?
komos From: komos Date: March 25th, 2003 10:43 am (UTC) (Link)
Heh. A better choice, to be sure, but not nearly so illustrative of the inherent absurdity of the thing.

To be honest, the only "Frenchie" I know is fictional, namely, the hotel owner in To Have and Have Not. He’s a genuinely good man, a member of the Résistance, and a quiet foil to Martinique’s corrupt Vichy government.
From: skygoodwill Date: March 25th, 2003 10:46 am (UTC) (Link)

My comment was in reference to the idiotic eastern US decision to change french fries to freedom fries.
komos From: komos Date: March 25th, 2003 10:57 am (UTC) (Link)

Je sais. Je pense que cette idée est très stupide aussi.

I understood. ^_^



From: skygoodwill Date: March 25th, 2003 10:59 am (UTC) (Link)

Oh mon dieu, Monsieur Bilodeau, tu parle francais! C'est manifique!
komos From: komos Date: March 26th, 2003 05:19 am (UTC) (Link)

Oui, mais pas bien

French was actually my first language. Unfortunately, when I started attending school with the barest grasp of English, I was teased mercilessly by the other kids. I managed to lose much of that foundation, and I've been left with trying to learn what I think of as my native tongue from scratch.

Most of the time, I feel like I'm speaking it with cotton in my mouth. I do love it, though.
6 comments or Leave a comment