Britishisms in Stories About Americans, and Vice-Versa

A few comparisons, US cf. British/Australian

The US words may be regional - I’ve seen some here and heard many on TV.

US - British
drug - dragged (She drug/dragged it along the ground.)
Bit - bitten (I was bit/bitten by a snake.)
Broke - broken (the window was broke/broken by a rock.)
Forecasted - forecast (the weather was forecasted/forecast to be hot tomorrow.)
I Could care less/I couldn’t care less (The US version always sounds odd.)
Where are you at?/Where are you? (The “at” always sounds superfluous.)
Get off of me/get off me (The “of” also seems superfluous.)

If I think of others I’ll add them.

Few of those given as U.S. usage are standard U.S. usage. This isn't comparing standard American English usage with standard UK usage.
 
You know what drives me batshit whenever I hear it? In back of. It's "behind", you bastards!
 
You know what drives me batshit whenever I hear it? In back of. It's "behind", you bastards!

Oh yeah?!! Well, y'all are just mad because 'we' have Sweet Tea. :D
Tea and 'biscuits' indeed! Anyone ever told y'all you eat some nasty stuff over there? Kidney Pie and Blood pudding? What kind of prevert eats that stuff, eh? Oh and next time I'm in back of someone, I'll think of you, Sean. :devil:
 
Anyone ever told y'all you eat some nasty stuff over there? Kidney Pie and Blood pudding? What kind of prevert eats that stuff, eh? Oh and next time I'm in back of someone, I'll think of you, Sean. :devil:

True story. A few years ago, I was over in Somerset on an assignment. I was having breakfast in the dining room of a small hotel, and the only other diners were a Swedish-speaking couple. They spent a good ten minutes or so perusing and discussing (in Swedish) the menu card. And then, the next time that the waitress appeared, the man asked her: ‘What is black pudding?’

The waitress explained that it was a mixture of pork and pork fat, and oatmeal (or sometimes barley), herbs and spices (especially black pepper and mace), all blended with fresh pigs’ blood.

‘Oh,’ the man said sadly. ‘Blood sausage. Don’t worry, it’s no good in Sweden either.’

:)
 
True story. A few years ago, I was over in Somerset on an assignment. I was having breakfast in the dining room of a small hotel, and the only other diners were a Swedish-speaking couple. They spent a good ten minutes or so perusing and discussing (in Swedish) the menu card. And then, the next time that the waitress appeared, the man asked her: ‘What is black pudding?’

The waitress explained that it was a mixture of pork and pork fat, and oatmeal (or sometimes barley), herbs and spices (especially black pepper and mace), all blended with fresh pigs’ blood.

‘Oh,’ the man said sadly. ‘Blood sausage. Don’t worry, it’s no good in Sweden either.’

:)

Now THAT'S hilarious, Sam! Good one! :D
 
True story. A few years ago, I was over in Somerset on an assignment. I was having breakfast in the dining room of a small hotel, and the only other diners were a Swedish-speaking couple. They spent a good ten minutes or so perusing and discussing (in Swedish) the menu card. And then, the next time that the waitress appeared, the man asked her: ‘What is black pudding?’

The waitress explained that it was a mixture of pork and pork fat, and oatmeal (or sometimes barley), herbs and spices (especially black pepper and mace), all blended with fresh pigs’ blood.

‘Oh,’ the man said sadly. ‘Blood sausage. Don’t worry, it’s no good in Sweden either.’

:)
And then there was haggis :).
 
And then there was haggis :).

I was tempted to try Haggis until Will told me what was in it, so no, I passed. He hates it and what it implies, he'd eat it if he was forced to, if he was starving, he's eaten worse, but he can't see how or why someone would eat it from choice. He used to have to go to his family up in Aberdeenshire every January 26 to represent his father and dress up in full Highland costume to recite a Burns poem over a Haggis then slice it up with a sword, then hide while his family loaded up on scotch and settled old grudges. Will hates Haggis, and, by extension Scotland, because of all this 'Burns Night made-up tradition' nonsense in the depths of Winter in the frozen North.

We got trapped there once by blizzards, stuck with his relatives for 4 days. I was suicidal by the time we escaped, being constantly harangued by huge red-haired women called Morag or Grainne or Shaunagh who wanted to know why I hadn't given Will any children yet, and when was I going to give him up so they could take a crack at him...
 
Haggis is great - like cottage pie with extra pepper, and your mashed neeps/tatties on the side in stead of above. The casing is rarely noticeable.

But then I like a slice of black pudding with my fry-up, to save me needing any salt.

Meat pies are great unless they're the travesty served in some pubs which are just a stew with a puff-pastry hat. Has to have good pastry all round to be a pie. Steak and ale, chicken and mushroom, chicken and ham...

I'm not a fan of steak and kidney - I can always taste the traces of piss.

I'm re-reading some childhood stories and finding I'd misunderstood some of the Americanisms for 40 years - I'd interpreted building a pond 'in back of' a woodland hut as 'in the back of the hut' and wondered how the violets planted round it could photosynthesise...
Farther instead of further is one I'd never noticed before either and can't get my tongue round reading aloud.
 
I was tempted to try Haggis until Will told me what was in it, so no, I passed. He hates it and what it implies, he'd eat it if he was forced to, if he was starving, he's eaten worse, but he can't see how or why someone would eat it from choice. He used to have to go to his family up in Aberdeenshire every January 26 to represent his father and dress up in full Highland costume to recite a Burns poem over a Haggis then slice it up with a sword, then hide while his family loaded up on scotch and settled old grudges. Will hates Haggis, and, by extension Scotland, because of all this 'Burns Night made-up tradition' nonsense in the depths of Winter in the frozen North.

We got trapped there once by blizzards, stuck with his relatives for 4 days. I was suicidal by the time we escaped, being constantly harangued by huge red-haired women called Morag or Grainne or Shaunagh who wanted to know why I hadn't given Will any children yet, and when was I going to give him up so they could take a crack at him...

this reads like some cheap shit sitcom rather than scotland - where i am at this minute.

there's haggis running free on the lawn here. they're protected now.
 
this reads like some cheap shit sitcom rather than scotland - where i am at this minute.

there's haggis running free on the lawn here. they're protected now.

Ooh, clockwise or anticlockwise ones? I love watching roaming haggises, with their adorable tartan fur.
 
They may not be standard American but they are very common.

Not really. And you missed the point. You didn't compare apples with apples. I've been in places in the UK that I didn't recognize that they were even speaking English. You've picked a very narrow localized set for American usage.
 
They may not be standard American but they are very common.

KeithD's point, with which I agree, is that you can't compare the Queen's English to American vernacular. They're apples and oranges. This is a huge country and you can find evidence for people in different regions saying things in odd ways, but that's true of Britain, too. The Brits have many ways of saying things that completely fly over the heads of most Americans.

Most of the examples of American usages you gave would not be considered "correct" by reasonably well-educated Americans familiar with American English standards. For instance, I'm aware that some Americans say "drug" rather than "dragged," but that usage makes me cringe. "Broke" in place of "broken" makes me shudder.

"Bit" in place of "bitten" doesn't bother me so much. It's got a good short feel to it. I remember the scene in Game of Thrones (mostly British actors, but written by Americans), when Thoros of Myr, right before he dies, says "I just got bit by a dead bear!" "Bitten" wouldn't have sounded as good.
 
Not really. And you missed the point. You didn't compare apples with apples. I've been in places in the UK that I didn't recognize that they were even speaking English. You've picked a very narrow localized set for American usage.

I would be most interested to know where you went and roughly when, pleaser.
 
I've never been to the UK, but I can imagine some places in Wales, Ireland, Manchester, Liverpool, .....
 
'I could care less' (with the implied 'but it would be incredibly difficult') must be one of very few examples of Americans using only the first half of a saying where the Brits don't.

Plenty of parts of the UK where outsiders struggle to understand the locals - read interviews with any foreign footballer, or the guides produced for overseas doctors coming to work in Yorkshire/Hartlepool/Dundee.

I'm English, lived here most of my life but can still struggle to understand a Glaswegian going off on one (Trainspotting was toned down quite a lot), or someone from Sunderland, Aberdeen, an old person from Devon - and I didn't even have.to ask for an assistant to write questions down in Antrim, they offered it for all visitors from over the water.

My mum still struggles with loads of Brits after 50 years.
 
I would be most interested to know where you went and roughly when, pleaser.

Various parts of London over several decades (where pockets of "Was that English?" were encountered) and out to Caversham Park, Henley-on-Thames, Oxford, Reading, Wimbledon. Last trip (2012), stayed for a while in the Forest of Dean, down to the Devon area (maternal family came from Cotleigh, near Honiton) and then a great circle from Wales over to Great Yarmouth, up to Scarborough, York, Edinburgh, the Lake District, and out through Birmingham.
 
'I could care less' (with the implied 'but it would be incredibly difficult') must be one of very few examples of Americans using only the first half of a saying where the Brits don't.

Plenty of parts of the UK where outsiders struggle to understand the locals - read interviews with any foreign footballer, or the guides produced for overseas doctors coming to work in Yorkshire/Hartlepool/Dundee.

I'm English, lived here most of my life but can still struggle to understand a Glaswegian going off on one (Trainspotting was toned down quite a lot), or someone from Sunderland, Aberdeen, an old person from Devon - and I didn't even have.to ask for an assistant to write questions down in Antrim, they offered it for all visitors from over the water.

My mum still struggles with loads of Brits after 50 years.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jYXWzP-GuUc
 
Ooh, clockwise or anticlockwise ones? I love watching roaming haggises, with their adorable tartan fur.

there's a farm [organic] just along the road. i think they specialise in breeding haggis with front legs shorter than the rear - for the hills.
 
there's a farm [organic] just along the road. i think they specialise in breeding haggis with front legs shorter than the rear - for the hills.
Shorter left legs for running counter-clockwise on hills; shorter right legs, clockwise.

It's all selective breeding ;).
 
Shorter left legs for running counter-clockwise on hills; shorter right legs, clockwise.

It's all selective breeding ;).

Exactly - if they had shorter front legs the poor things would be fine going uphill but struggle to get down, which would be ridiculous.

They think the clockwise/anticlockwise haggis variants are controlled by similar genes as for handedness in humans and the direction of spiral in snails, always about a 90% to 10% ratio, rather than the 50:50 you'd get if it were random. No-one knows why, but the anticlockwise haggis does tend to display especially fine tartan-patterned hair in brighter colours, such as the Royal Stewart breed.
 
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