It's COLOR and ARMOR!

Third generation American. I spell it:

"colour"
"honor"
"armor" AND "armour" (and "amour", but that's something else entirely)
"theatre"
"center" AND "centre" (depending on my mood)
"tire"
"fae" AND "fey"
"aluminum"
"schedule" (pronounced SKEH-juhl, not SHEH-jool)

And I have the occasional odd tendency to use British slang that gets some really weird looks from people, especially the ones who know I'm a native New Yorker (sans accent, I just talk real fast).

*shrugs*

Michelle
aka
Samuraiko/Dark_Respite

I like you, LOL.

I'm reminded of, in my visit to Texas, at four in the morning with a slightly-deranged skinny British bloke leaning on my back to keep himself from the paroxysms of laughter which this simple act of explanation had induced, of being stared down by a Texan man who looked the sort to eat his hams without getting them out of the fridge first, a man who wore a cowboy hat indoors unironically, and whose job description gave him the right to carry a gun but whose disposition made that a pleasure, and having to explain to this glistening man who had an equator rather than a waist, where I lived - for the purposes of verifying myself as a witness for future reference.

"Wollongong, sir."

"Where is that, exahcktly?" he asked, eyebrow raised.

"That'd be in Australia, sir. East coast." I said, in my most earnest tone. I'd been awake for two days solid. This man was the security chief of the Dallas Adams Mark Hotel, and in theory, was having a whole weekend made up of this sort of malarkey, so dealing with me was not on his list of fun things to do - let alone when there were anime cosplayers wielding banangs on the stage floor. I was doing my best to Assist In His Enquiries ('Yes, sir, your underpaid man who doesn't seem to speak English dropped my friend's scanner on the floor, and yes, all the bits went skittering all over the place, and no, none of us did it.') and yet, four in the morning was when he had found the time to see us. As the only witness to the event who didn't have an immediate connection to the individual in question (ie, his family), I was seen as a necessary evil.

As it was, I imagine I sounded suspiciously like I should have had my cap in my hand, or at least an empty bowl for More Gruel.

"Would you," he said, giving a pause in that manner that people say is an expression of Southern Politeness, but seems more to be about Southern Illiteracy, "Spell that for me, sir?"

"Alright," I say, drawing a breath. "Double you oh double ell, oh-en-gee, oh-en-gee."

Behind me, the brit falls on the floor, laughing. None of us are drunk. None of us are ever drunk. We're a trio of nerds who lost a scanner because a hotel lobby attendant dropped it. And all I could think about in that moment was the way this guard's tone, the tone that indicated shooting me and hiding the body was still a feasible win for his night.

...

Oh, wait, this was about how we don't use the English language properly. *spin finger*

"Their country has a hundred percent literacy rating, Leo - how do they do that?"
"Maybe they don't, and they're bad at math too?"

Heroes, Villains ♦ Reviews ♦ Retrospect

Ladies and gentlemen, let us put aside our petty differences and get back to blaming everything on the French.

Annnnnd if it's a 'j' sound in the G there, it'd sound like the word 'codger,' which means 'old person,' and if it's a soft g like a sch sound, it'd be like a 'cosher' which is means 'someone who hits people,' and so on.

Language is cool.

Heroes, Villains ♦ Reviews ♦ Retrospect

I thought that was spelled "kosher".

Option F please.

It was a joke, I know how to spell and pronounce Kosher. I also know that the foods are represented by a U inside of a circle like the copyright symbol or a capital K so that Jews know it's safe.

Give me more credit than that man!