i like how in america you have rows and rows of
because in england we have rows and rows of
i think the look we were going for was “crushing depression” complimented by “there is no hope” with just a hint of “you’re going to stare at the same mouldy boxes until you die in one of them so i hope you like brick”
Oh my god so one time I was at this camp when I was about… 10 or 11. There was this English girl there, and we were talking about my hair.
So I said: “I know, my bangs are getting really long.”
Her reply: ”No, not bangs. Fringe. They fringe your face; they don’t bang your face.”
And that’s the story of how I began to question the intelligence of Americans.