You are following, but not, apparently, because you are interested in my point.
phantomchariot
phantomchariot
... she'd almost certainly be better served opting to master standard English in addition to her other languages, no?
3rd graders and up can learn to read it, sure, but the point is they have to learn it. Everything's easy once you know how. After all, just because a mere child can learn to speak, oh, let's say Russian, doesn't mean an adult can figure it out just like that.
Not all people born in the US are born into households that speak English daily. Ms. Jeantel's speaks Haitian Creole. English is her third language. It can be rough to master and negotiate register. I've read and graded plenty of college papers written by native English speakers Ms. Jeantel's age doing their…
Only if she's saying what he wants her to be saying ...
Going to destroy the mushrooms in my backyard NOW.
ALL OF THIS.
Been to Oxford, Mississippi. Was really freaked out.
Yeah, no, don't see it. Childhood Dog's mode of transportation was exactly this.
There was a low-rider labrador thing at the stables I used to ride at. (Oh, god, privileged childhood, yup.) He was really silly-looking and somehow never got stepped on by the horses.
There's a geriatric eyeless (!) basset down the street from me. Lovely sweet thing.
Trade out the boxer DNA for whippet and you've got Childhood Dog. Spit and image. (Slobber and image?)
What the steaming crap is wrong with people?
Heya. Going way back in time to ask a favor. I don't have author privileges, but I just wrote a pissed off entry on Man of Steel on my blog. If you like it, would you consider boosting it to Groupthink? Thx!
Bingo.
Xactly. And I'm, what, one generation away from men who delayed proposing for yeeeeeaaaaars until they were "in a position to support a wife." Patriarchical system? Obviously. But the basic idea is that the couple doesn't get married until they can afford to do so.
I had a totally different image in my mind of a "fluffy whip." It involved ostrich feathers, I think.
Wait, wait ... was there gluten in that venue?
No no no ... you mean "Oy! Brisket!"