Tuesday, July 19, 2011
I'm interrupting the second half of my Open Heart story to tell you something exciting.
I had my first Twitter fight.
For those of you not familiar with Twitter, it's just another social virtual world where you can say anything from the ridiculous to the magniloquent, all in 140 characters or less. Twitter leans more towards the ridiculous.
I run hot and cold when it comes to Twitter. Somedays I don't even glance at my Twitterdeck and other days I just can't get enough of it.
On Sunday, when I heard the World Cup had gone into overtime, I thought the game might just be worth a look.
And I think that statement exemplifies how seriously I take soccer.
Which would be, not at all.
Two of my girls play soccer.
And if Coach Julia is reading this, she will hang her head in shame at me, but after all these years, I still have no idea about offsides. I just take everyone else's word for it. Pretty much all I know about soccer is that if you kick the ball into the net, it's a goal. As long as you're not offsides. And for that, I look to others to tell me if we've scored. If they're jumping up and down like crazy town, I know we've scored.
I also know this about soccer: Every year, my girls are going to insist that nothing from the year before will work. Not the balls. Not the shin guards. Not the bags or water bottles. Not the socks. Although, my one daughter wore the same shoes forever because she claimed she'd molded them in. Molded a horrific smell into them is more like it.
So that's about it for me and soccer.
(This is how we do soccer. And no, I am not intoxicated . . . yet.)
My kids are always complaining that every time they look over during a game, I'm not watching them because I'm too busy talking to someone.
And that might just be the truth.
But I watch at the important times, like right after a goal is scored and we all get to cheer or if a player is down or if by any infinitesimal chance a coach we may know gets red carded. (Usually, at least once a season.) Hi Coach Bill!
Or, most importantly, when the end of the game is near because that's just a countdown to concession stand french fries. Which are delicious.
And I'm also very non-competitive. When someone on the other team, makes a goal, I'm always, "Yay for you and your great kick!"
Which totally drives the other parents batty.
But back to my story. I turned on the television to watch the end of the game. My daughter, the only other person home at the time, was already watching it upstairs.
And I truly was on pins and needles as we went to penalty kicks.
And then we lost. And it was sad.
But I thought to myself: Hey Self, at least we lost to a country who could use a little pick-me-up like a World Cup trophy with all the horrific stuff they've had happen to them this year. Poor Japan.
And so I got on Twitter, to reiterate that thought in a more eloquent way.
But as I put my fingers to the keys, one of my dogs started making that retching noise that means you should jump up and squeal at the dog in your highest voice and hope the poor retching dog can make it outside instead of running to your favorite carpet.
I always feel a little sorry for dogs when they're vomiting. I mean, it's bad enough when I'm vomiting. I couldn't imagine everyone yelling at me to get outside and vomit.
Anyway, I was in the middle of composing my eloquent congratulations to Japan while my dog was retching and so I was yelling at the top of my lungs while typing, "JULIA, THE DOG IS PUKING. HELP ME! THE DOG IS PUKING!" I didn't want to add, "I CAN'T HELP THE BARFING DOG BECAUSE I'M TWEETING."
Because my family teases me enough about the Twitter.
And so my point is, the dog was retching and I was yelling, so I was a mite distracted while composing my Tweet.
Here's what I came up with:
In our loss, we have given a nation so devastated by tragedy, the World Cup. Congratulations, Japan.
That was it.
I thought it was nice.
And apparently so did some of my wonderful Twitter friends who retweeted my words of congratulations.
I guess my tweet reached a dude in England.
I know, right?
Uhhhh-Ohhhh is exactly it.
Those folks across the pond take their soccer or football as they call it, very seriously.
As in riot serious.
And I guess they have the right to, because God love those Steak and Kidney Pie folk, they gave us David Beckham.
And that mister, is one fabulous gift to the world.
So this English dude tweeted me back with: how patronising!
I'm not going to copy his tweets because I really don't want him to have some Google alert on his name and find my blog and then we've got the smackdown all over again. Because I don't feel like putting on my Badass cap, a second time.
See, here's the thing about me.
I am a complete coward in real life. Confrontation makes me cower in the corner, unless it has to do with my kids, that is.
But on paper? I am Gloria Allred and I will go down to Chinatown on your ass.
So . . .
I wanted to tweet back and tell him if he was going to call me patronizing, at least he could learn to spell it correctly.
But then I realized, he was probably spelling it correctly in the King's English.
And since I didn't want to look like an ignoramus, I was all:
Whatever, dude. I believe in kindness, sorry you don't. Wasn't being patronizing in the least. Don't hate.
Because there's nothing English people love more, than being called Dude.
And honestly? I wasn't really sure what he found so patroniSing about my tweet. So I went over to his Twitter and was happy to discover other folks were calling him out for being so uncool to me.
It didn't phase him one bit.
He tweeted back to me, telling me that Japan had earned their win by playing better. That America didn't GIVE Japan the win. He then when on to say, accrediting their win to their recent disaster was patroniSing.
At this point, not only did I realize I was tweet warring with a dude who takes his football way too seriously, but I had a feeling he might have been one of those, "Americans are the smuggest people on the planet" types.
It was also apparent that I was sparring with a dude who had a limited vocabulary of name calling.
I wanted to tweet something like: "I am not one of those, 'Mericuh is a hella lot better than yur turd country. We've got hot dogs,' types."
I mean, I love the U.S.A. But I am never, ever smug about it. I love the beautiful vast and varying differences of the countries that make up this world.
Well, except for North Korea and Sudan and Somalia and Afghanistan and all of the other places in the world mired in hate.
But I couldn't define that in 140 characters, so I settled on this:
I wasn't being literal when I used the word give. Simply put, if we were to lose the World Cup and lose we did w/a very poor showing at the end, glad it was to Japan.
I then followed that one up with a tweet saying, I wasn't accrediting their win to their horrific past year, just saying it was a badly needed bright spot for this nation.
Once again, he tweeted back that he was sticking to his guns, that my statement was patroniSing, and then he said something about waffles. I think he might have been calling me a waffle and not in a yo-yo vacillating kind of way. I'm really not sure what kind of waffle he was referring to, but I have a feeling it wasn't a yummy Belgian one. It's tough scrapping with someone who has a completely different name-calling vernacular.
And then. Then! THEN!
He finished up his tweet by advising me I should have just said to Japan, well done and congratulations.
Well...
I don't know if he knows this, but this is America.
And in America, we don't tell each other what to say and how to say it.
Cause in Mericuh,
We have a little thing called Freedom of Speech and we wrote those words because the Steak and Kidney Pie folks were trying to tell us exactly what to say and how to say it and tax us for it.
Besides . . .
No one ever tells me what to do. Ever. It is the red cape to my bull.
My hubs always says if the Taliban ever tried to abduct me and force me into a life of burqas and imprisonment and the banning of high heels *gasp*, he would just bust a gut and say to them, "Good luck with that" and then just sit back and watch. He claims it wouldn't be a suicide bombing, more like a nuclear explosion.
And I can only agree.
There were many things I wanted to tweet back to Mr. Way-Too-Serious, Get-A-Life, Limited-Word-Insulter English Dude, but I composed myself and tweeted:
You say it one way. Doesn't mean I have to subscribe to the same. My intention was good. It's a shame you took exception to that.
I wanted to add: And if you ever come over to my Twitter again, MoFo, and try to tell me how to say something, I will hunt your Limey ass down and wash your patroniSing mouth out with some fine English soap. MoFo: Look it up, Waffle Boy.
But I didn't. So that was it.
He didn't tweet me back.
Probably because he went to my Twitter profile and read this:
joann mannix
Aspiring writer/Blogger/Shoe Shopper/Bono Lover/Profanity Linguist. House Vixen who hates domestic crap but loves bonbons and wine. I used to drive a Pinto.
And realized he was no match for that kind of awesomeness.
So there you have it, the thrilling story of my first Twitter fight.
And for the record, I think it would have enraged him even more if he'd seen me right after the final kick, when I was all, "We lost, right? Cause Japan's going crazy and our girls look sad, so I think that means we lost."
In the midst of my feud, I emailed my sisters to tell them I was, at that moment, involved in a Twitter fight with an English dude over soccer.
My sister, the lawyer, emailed me back with,
"As your attorney, I would advise you to stick to subjects you are familiar with, but good luck!"
My soccer knowledge is the stuff of legends.
I promise the second half of my story is coming. Hang on. It's summer, you know.
Today's Definite Download: Don McLean's "American Pie" which is one brilliant song, as it is.
But for today, it's a dedication to my English friend who loves to throw around the word patroniSing. How'd you like your taste of this American Pie, bloke?
I like to think I'm a pecan pie, sweet and nutty and just all around delicious, topped of course with gobs of whipped cream. Nothing like your steak and kidney pie, English boy. Which by the way? That's about the grossest thing I could ever imagine.
No offense. God save your crabby old queen.
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49 comments:
Too funny. I saw your tweet, thought "that's nice", and went on with my life. What a dick that guy is. I saw on fb and twitter that the games were going on, but unless it's me or my kids competing, I'm probably not watching.
I watched the game and my reaction was the same as yours. That Limey was a dork!
Now I want to get back on the Twitter saddle.
Cause a good fight online is hard to beat.
I played soccer for 8 years and I remember nothing. Pretty sad.
Oh I have many things to say:
When soccer (we call it football) is on tv, my friends and family are always happy if I get out in time to barf outside and not on the carpet.
Yes, soccer is serious business in europe and english people are the worst (they invented hooligans).
Dear Joann,you have a terrible taste in celebrity men. David Beckham? The fact that he is married to this dried prune would be enough to hate him and his wishy-washy-Ed-Hardy-style is just the cherry on top of my hate sundae.
I tried your name in the crazy name generator earlier and it told me that your new name is Paranormal Chicken Vomit, sorry but this could explain the David Beckham thing.
I totally know which waffle he was talking about but he's british, he should not talk about food, does the pope talk about bondage parties? Not with me at least.
Kidney pie is the worst? Ha! May I introduce you to my dear old friend, and partner in throwing up, haggis here? Even the thought of having it in my mouth again makes me want to rip out my tongue and chew old socks.
Also, Joann, you are one of my favourite americans and I love your post, please don't fight on twitter, get a hello kitty burqa and listen to your attorney!
Love,
european Matze
Ugh. I can't stand when people just want to pick a fight over something redonk and stupid like that. Way to stick to your guns!
Also, I say, "I do what I want" in my best teenage impression as a joke, but really, I do what I want. Which frustrates my husband to no end, but then draws him in with that mystique of never knowing what I'll do next.
Dear Matze,
I love you like David Beckham. That is all.
Some people just take things too seriously. Like that guy getting all worked up over your Tweet, which was nice. And he doesn't even know you. Obviously, he has nothing better to do.
Seriously. It was a perfectly reasonable tweet. It never ceases to amaze me what people take offense to. You should have made a comment about his teeth being bad, just to round out the "This is what Americans think about you British people" side of the argument.
Bwahahahaha! I used to watch my daughter's soccer games EXACTLY like you do. I loved it, but sometimes they were just really really long. I liked it better when she switched to water polo, and especially when she punched an "opponent" in the mouth when the girl was twisting her boob under water. But I digress...
Never been on Twitter but if it's as entertaining as all that, maybe I should give it a try. I know what you mean about British slang - I work with a British girl. She's hilarious, but half the time I have no idea what we're laughing about it. It just SOUNDS funny.
And I used to drive a Vega. Heaven help us.
It amazes me how people get so worked up over things. People in Spain get just as worked up over soccer and it cracked me up. I'm glad you showed him what was what.
The truth is I have no idea what you wrote after that picture of David Beckham. Because I started licking my screen and that's the last thing I remember.
Also? I loved your tweet!
xo
Damn it all...Becks is Hawt!
And "Mericuh" cracked me up.
This is just further proof my hot tempted, smart mouth should stay far from the Twitter.
you are my hero. and I, like you, can say just what I want to say in an email or a tweet, but to call someone, or be in front of them and tell them off, scares the crap out of me.
Have tears running down my cheeks I'm laughing so..... Poor guy, it must be tough for him to walk around England all day with a stick up his a**...
Yur the best gurlfrend!
Oh my - this IS FUNNY! There are some people out in the weird world that will hear what they want to hear based on who you are. I love your sense of humor in this situation. Great post!
How did I miss this Twitter fight??? Darn it!
I believe you won.
Stupid Limp Limey (I lived in England for 3.5 years and can attest to the fanaticism these English blokes/ dudes have for football/ soccer. They believe they can influence the game by yelling at the TV)
You were so polite!
I wouldn't have been that polite but then again I probably would have been sued by now.
Way to stick to your guns, Joann! And way to make me laugh out loud this morning.
I think what you said was perfect. That guy was just looking for a fight. I had someone who was looking for a fight the other day. They were talking about how if bloggers use guest posters that they are insecure. Umm..ok. You could tell they were totally looking for a fight. They kept tweeting some mean crap about bloggers who use guest posters. I was good and ended up venting with another blogger about it and kept my peace. I wanted to engage so bad!
Ah, overseas hate mail from someone that does not know the awesomeness of Joann Mannix! He never knew what hit him.
Clearly, this guy had WAY too much time on his hands. I got cussed out for being a bitchy American because I had the audacity to post an unfavorable review of an Irish hotel. I got hate mail from all over the UK! Weird how people read into your experience and feelings and attack you for it. It's called insecure, I think?
I got your back in any Twitter fight. (Mostly because, like yourself, I'm a badass anywhere else but in real life)
And people that take things too literal really bother me.
Yes, our crabby old queen with fantastic shoes in her closet!
I got into a pissing contest in the comment section of another blog a couple of months ago. He sounded very much like your guy. I was getting pretty tired of his arrogant prattle, so I wrote, "I have finally figured out exactly who you really are, and unless you go back on your meds, I am going to tell the world!" Never heard from him again!
Steak and kidney pie is the grossest thing in the world! Trust me...
Hang tough, there, Joann, the world needs a good dressing down every now and then!
Ya know, I bet it was your "I used to drive a Pinto" line. That gets 'em every time. :)
Way to stand your ground! To me, it's not a US thing, but a Chicago thing. We Chicago girls don't take that shit lying down.
OK, first of all, I can't believe I missed the whole twitter fight because I was without wifi for 5 days! Crap!
Second, my son has played soccer his whole life and I ALWAYS miss his goals because I am talking. And also, I have no idea about offsides either. I just don't get it.
Third, Ahh....David Beckham. Thank you.
Fourth, What a patroniSing scumbag that British Dude was!
Fifth, Don't you think it's a tiny bit cool that someone in England read your tweet? Woo hoo! You've hit the big time, girl!
And finally, American Pie...best. song. ever.
`````OMG, I hope it wasn't my hubs that tweeted you...he's a Brit! Anyhow,
The game was great, wasn't it? I was getting all ready to Tweet: CONGRATS USA!!!!
PS. love your taste in men: Bono & Becks ... Obviously, you dig the Brits, too.
You lost me at David Beckam and I had to lick my computer screen.
What doesn't everyone do that?
PS. You are awesome and that is all that limey dude needs to know.
I so thought you were going to say you were tweeting with David Beckham and then I was going to have to just die of jealousy. Dear God, that is one hot body. And yes Kimberly, if ever there was someone I would lick, it would be that man.
A. I know NOTHING about soccer. I was at a party while we were "giving" the win to Japan and I kind of pretended to care then said, "Yeah. I don't really care." out loud.
B. I was a little ashamed of myself when I thought, "Dear God I want to lick my computer screen" as the picture of David Beckham scrolled into view.
C. Thank God for Cheryl because now I don't feel so dirty (or alone. or dirty.)
D. Waffles? Yum. But not as yummy as David Beckham.
E. To me, everything in life boils down to intentions. Really. I can forgive virtually anyone anything if his/her intentions are pure. And yours? Totally pure. Please.
F. (do I need to come up with an F with regard to DB? I think not.)
I love Becks. SO MUCH. So very, very much.
People who take anything on Twitter seriously really need to rethink their priorities. Oh, but then how would you know if you were being patronising if someone wasn't patronisingly telling you? Silly dumb me.
JoAnn, I'd have your back in a Merican minute!!! Really? Ridiculous. I don't think Bono would be pleased with his behavior. Yours of course, was stellar:)
And yes, soccer is foreign to me too. Good to know I'm not the only one.
Ahhh, David. Thanks for the picture. As for the Dude, he was way too serious. And then he argued about it. Dumb. Seriously, don't guys know they'll never win a word fight with a woman blogger? Ever?
This post had me cracking up!
Obviously and it is true, we Americans speaks a different English than the Brits. Even when we say something as nice as possible, some Brits may read it differently and start a ridiculous Twitter war over it! The nerve of that guy and you were not being nasty in what you were saying.
Seriously the dude needs to learn what a spellchecker is or at least a dictionary perhaps cause when you talk via writing and you can't spell, it just makes you look like a jackass especially when you are engaged in a writing war basically.
That dude needs to get a life or get laid or something cause he has a problem. He waged a war on the wrong American woman!
I never got into Twitter. I'm happy with Facebook and my blog. That's enough virtual socializing for me.
By the way, the comment from Matzekatze above had me in tears laughing. You obviously have some awesome followers.
Jen :)
This post is so pateronizing. Did I spell that right? I only use King's English too. Is King's English the english that kings use? I want to learn that. I think I may have. That is why I spelled it that way.
He was smug. English are always smug. Smug is way worse than pateronizing. (Mainly because I have no idea what pateronizing means.)
First off, thanks for the awesome gratuitous picture of Becks.
Second I saw your tweet that day and realized that some important game was being played.
Then I thought your message was nice. I didn't interpret it that the Japanese didn't win it out of talent.
That Brit was just wonky, because he is jealous of Americans (like so many others).
It was wise of you to refrain from a Twitter war, no point in that.
Vomiting feels bad enough without people yelling at you to go vomit outside?! Priceless! Ditto for those times when I just really want to chew on the dining room table... :-)
I don't tweet, but when I read the "give" to Japan tweet in your blog post, I did a mini squirm. I see where the waffle bloke took offense, but that's why I have no interest in Twitter -- it's so hard to say exactly what you want to say, conveying just the right attitude and everything, in so few characters. That's why really good haikus are so amazing. But who can write an amazing haiku about the World Cup while the dog is throwing up and you're feeling bad for the American soccer players, bad for the vomiting dog, alarmed about the vomit mess in the house, guilt for sending the vomiting dog outside, and guilt for Tweeting while the dog is vomiting? What would an amazing haiku about soccer even LOOK like?
I'll bet some Japanese writer is penning a fabulous we-won-the-World-Cup haiku at this very minute. And, for the record, I had no idea the Big Deal Soccer Game was going on at all until I read your post.
I'm proud of you for walking away from the Bloke, though. There's just no sportsmanship in having a battle of wits with an unarmed opponent.
First of all, you still crack me the fuck up!
Secondly, congratulations on your first Twitter War! That means you are important enough to piss someone off! What a compliment!!!
C, this dude obviously doesn't know who he is fucking with. You are the queen of sarcasm and wit and you would win any argument!
Fourthly of all, I am so glad someone else in the world is willing to admit that they know as much about soccer as I
Fifthly (or is it "E"?) I bet he was referring to the Ego thick and fluffy waffles...not because you are thick and fluffy by any means but because my mouth waters over those. They are God's gift to waffles!!!! Soooo...yet another compliment by English Dude! Man, he really must have the hots for you!
And 6, our country and his country were hanging the clothes. Our country punched his country right in the nose...
Seventhly, Congratulations, Japan! Funny, how Japan didn't get pissy with you about your tweet.
I think you won that twitter fight. Congratulations, well done. (that's how you're supposed to do it, right?)
Do you want to cut the douche?
I feel safe in saying you definitely know MUCH more about soccer than I do.
The only twitter war I've been involved in was with Billy Bush (yeah, that guy from one of those hollywood gossip shows). He called me a meanie.
Maybe we should send Billy Bush to England to live with your
"patronising" fella in exchange for an English hunk. It would balance the world.
You go get 'em. Love everything about this post, but most especially that I wasn't the only mom who attended soccer games for years never knowing what offsides meant.
hehehee, I think you would be the yummy belgian waffle! LOL
HILARIOUS!!!!!
That twitter fight - good grief! I think it was nice of you , by the way!
And Mercy - yes siree- Mr Becham and his abs were most certainly a gift . Amen.
Have a PRETTY day!
Kristin
OOPS! Beckham!
giggle
I totally didn't read it like "we the Americans" gave you the trophy, but rather we the world gave you the trophy. I completely agreed with your sentiment, and you know if I agree then you have nothing to worry about. I set the standard on tweeting. Ad soccer.
(cough)
It's hard being nice. I thought I was going to be beaten senseless in a small, but intense riot at a high school football (American football) game when I suggested it was nice the other team scored one goal so they wouldn't have to go home on the bus feeling bad about being shut out. I could feel the hate pouring over me for the rest of the game.
I thought I was the only one who gave shout outs to the other team when they make a good play. My husband gives me the stink eye when I do that. I look at him and ask "Would you rather I pointed out all the ways our team effed up so the other team was able to score??" Okay then.
But that is American (College) (Go Buckeyes!) football, because I do not know from soccer. At. All.
I don't like sports, neither does hubby, so have no idea what's what on this stuff. But all I could do was LOL! right through your absolutely WONDERFUL post. I applaud and bow before your greatness. =D
Really?
Really?
That's it. I'm not hot for him anymore.
For the most part.
I saw this twitter fight.
I remember thinking "dude is drunk."
So drunk..
And tweeting.
LOSER.
Thank you for the picture, though: mama will take that. Yes, she will.
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