American writer, P. Beckert, while trying to write a story that would fit within the strict confines of the satire website SOZ, has collapsed into a heap in the corner of her makeshift office and was found muttering the words, "I’m a sorry-assed excuse for a writer, that’s what I am."
Nothing remotely funny occurred to her, even with all the material the British provide at any given moment. Ridiculous premises such as how long it takes a royal couple to name a stinkin’ baby, to any number of stories about disingenuous American DJ’s with nothing better to do than make prank phone calls to the Queen asking what color bloomers she’s wearing.
“Giz us a minute of yers time, there will ya mate and get the Queen on the telly, will ya?” Said DJ “Dizzy” Johnson of radio station WACK, Akron, Ohio, a city most any Brit would readily admit not having the faintest idea where or what it is, that is unless they are fond of tires, as Akron just happens to be the rubber and tire capital of the United States. This alone should give a half-decent British satirist something to go on, if only for the reason that the word rubber is used to describe Akron’s claim to fame.
American Writer Sucks at Delivering Funny Story to British Website
By
P. Beckert
"P. Beckert is an American writer, blogger and bodybuilder who once raised a 556lb barbel in The Romanian Deadlift while writing an insightful essay on pumkin pie ingredients."
But Beckert sees nothing funny in any of this, and would rather wallow in her self-pity at being, at best, a mediocre writer. Knowing it might look bad if she didn’t at least give it a try, the broken writer did come up with a list of real names for real towns in the UK that, in and of themselves, lend comic relief this writer would otherwise be unable to produce. The list is as follows:
Bitchfield (named after the founder’s wife who’d been caught showing her naughty bits to the butcher out in Old Harley Hornwhistle’s field); Butterburn (would have been funnier if it were Butterbum); Clapworthy (singles beware of online dating in this town); Frisby on the Wreake (how the hell did that Frisby get up there on that wreake?); and Great Snoring (which is the sister city of Mediocre Snoring, a few kilometers north of Great).
But let’s be kind. Beckert did have enough gumption left to haul herself up from the floor and hit the send button to SoZ and let the chips fall where they may. Which, to any Brit probably doesn’t even make any sense since the saying is an American one and quite frankly, she doesn’t have the energy nor the patience to explain it to them.
Gizzus a peck on the cheekers willya ol chap? ”At least it sounds kinda British,” said Beckert as she slumped back down into a fetal position.
