Overheard in the locker room of the local pool - three seven-year-old boys talking while towelling themselves dry:
"Hey, we all have team towels"
[exchange of observations on which teams they have]
Oh how cute, they all have team towels. Of course they do, they're Melbournians, every man, woman and child here seems to have a full wardrobe of items in the colours of their favourite football team.
"I like mine because it has my favourite font on it. Comic Sans MS."
O-kay.
Well Ma, I'll be danged, the boy has a favourite font. Why, gosh be darned, when I was his age, I don't think I knew what a font even dang well was. 'Course, back in them days, we was still scratching our wordifyin's on bits of slate, wasn't we.
I am feeling so very twentieth century right now.
Friday, 10 October 2008
Now I know what "generation gap" means
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1 comment:
ROTFLKAS!
I dimly recall overhearing a boys-in-the-locker-room conversation once (in the other lane so I did not see them and cannot guess their age). That was in Scotland and back in the last century, though, so of course the boys were not talking fonts (nor which slate is best for carving letters in), but mainly the f-word.
I call talking fonts an improvement, even if it makes us feel like dinosaurs from aeons ago.
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