Yesterday, as I was leaving work, George, an Englishman who speaks amazingly good Dutch, said, "Andy, you look like a working class Englishman in that hat."
I didn't know what to say. I sort of feel like that, too. Like I should be standing on a street corner in London screaming the headlines and selling papers for a few shillings, or pence, or whatever.
Everytime I'm speaking Dutch and I get confused in the middle of a story and say, "Whatever," F says, "It's not whatever."
Keeping me on my toes.
County Fair Entries and Results, 2022
7 months ago
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