Is a 'muffler' what we (Brits) would call a 'silencer'? ----------------------------------------------------- Language can be frustrating, can't it? The "muffler" is the big fat thingie with the long pipe that exhausts gas from the engine ... most mechanics -- more properly I think -- call it an "exhaust system" since its made up of the two parts and hence the punability. wow
I'm afraid I need a translation here.... Is a 'muffler' what we (Brits) would call a 'silencer'?
Aha! Here is another one of those rare instances where NZ usage follows the US pattern rather than that of the UK. We call them mufflers here too. Silencers are something we only see or read about in murder mysteries.
"silencer" Since the device cannot produce silence, it seems to be one of the few instances where the Brit term is less precise than the US term. And how can I be re-tired, since I have no wheels?
I used to play the violin, but there were too many strings attached. I had a position as a flutist, but I blew it. I tried my hand at the battery, but it was no hit. I found a place as an organist, but didn't know how to pull all the stops...
I tried being a hair stylist, but got all tangled up. So I tried to simplify and be a barber, but I couldn't cut it. I almost lost my barber's license due to incompetence -- that was a close shave!
I trained to be a caligrapher, but I couldn't mind my Ps and Qs.
that's a trivial pursuit question, you know.... one which of course provided much delight for my friends and me, since we were relatively young at the time it came out:
"What has a man that suffers from diphallic terata?"
(this is the part where you punsters reply "A good chance at scoring a date with siamese twins")
When I was younger I wanted to be an aeroplane pilot, but I couldn't keep up. Then I went for a job as a chauffeur, but it drove me nuts. Eventually I tried to be a seamstress, but I wasn't cut for it.
While we are at it.. the story may be old enough to be unknown: On the stairs, Mrs. Smith proudly announces to her neighbor Mrs. Arkwright: "My husband has an electric organ!" Upon which the neighbor wonders: "Ah.. does it light up at night?"
Seriously, I'm delighted the thread took this little detour onto old JS. His birthday is this month, so here's a tribute to him. He was not always the sober, religious Lutheran director musices that he appears to be, although his sons used to refer to him as "the old wig". He actually was fond of a good rollicking party, which was always held whenever he got together with his very extensive family of cousins and in-laws, besides all those kids. Actually, due to the usual rate of infant mortality in those days, quite a few died as children, so there were not always a platoon running around the house. His first wife, Barbara, died after giving birth to the first 6; the second, Anna Magdalena, was made of sterner stuff and bore 13, for a total of 19, not 18.
Being an organist myself, I can attest that his sense of humor extended to his music. You find little musical jokes hidden in the music from time to time. But his biggest joke was the way he wrote. I have spent countless hours over many years on the organ bench cussing the old wretch because I know very well that when he wrote a lot of those pieces, he said to himself, "Well let's see one of those other guys play this!"
Thank you, Bob, for that tribute. And lest we forget! A moment, please, to venerate the last and least of his offspring, PDQ Bach, whose recently-recovered* works include: Blaues Gras (hi Faldage!) - the Bluegrass Cantata , Breakfast Antiphonies, and my personal favorite, Iphigenia In Brooklyn.
I thought I'd enjoy being a seamstress, but it was just sew-sew. I tried acting for a while, but I felt my career lacked direction. Now, things are looking up at last. I'm an astronomer!
I tried being a lawyer, briefly, but it didn't suit me. Next was psychology, but I didn't have the patience. Then I accepted a position as state executioner, but I couldn't get the hang of it. Now I work in a laundry, and my career is completely washed up.
I was a surgeon but I just couldn't cut it. Then I was an anesthesiologist, but all my coworkers were passing gas so much that I had to leave. So then I became a pathologist, but that whole career just seemed dead. Then I became a urologist, but all day I had to deal with a bunch of d*cks and a**holes. [doh!] Next I tried my hand at being an infectious diseases specialist, but I just got sick of the job. I tried my hand at being a pediatrician, but everyone was so childish. I worked for awhile as a gastroenterologist, but I just couldn't stomach it. I thought about trying to become a neurologist, but I just didn't have the nerve.
So now I am an oncologist. I didn't like it at first but it's starting to grow on me.
Disclaimer: Wordsmith.org is not responsible for views expressed on this site.
Use of this forum is at your own risk and liability - you agree to
hold Wordsmith.org and its associates harmless as a condition of using it.
