I ran across this website www.worldairnews.com
They have a copy of my recent blog about Brad Paisley. But it has been substantially altered. The phrasing and word selection have this crazy "broken English" feel. I'm certain this was accomplished by some kind of linguistic computer translation/substitution program, but I have no idea how or why this would occur. My best guess is that it was translated into a foreign language and then re-translated back into English.
Read the article for yourself. I've pasted their rendition below. Fascinating.
I just flipped on the annual Daytona 500 on Fox. Lo and behold, it’s my contingent Brad Paisley. You see, everyone in this God isolated locality has a Brad Paisley story. Ohh, you used to change Brad’s diapers. you used to go feeshun’ with Brad out the crick. his first partner Jenny Jeffers is my aunt Jenny. Yeah, you get it. Trust me, you get it.
But here’s the genuine truth. you was the authority who jump-started his deep career. and you almost consequence monetary arrangement but I’m willing to let it slide. When you was a girl during Linsly High School, we had this annual finally called the Linsly Extravaganza. and what a delightful festival it was. This “extravaganza” was reason every year during the elegant Capitol Music Hall in noble downtown Wheeling. a heated mob of parents, often lawyers and physicians, would fill the venue and go on this crap. When you contend “fill,” that’s a lavish exaggeration. I’d contend the place was about 63% full. That’s around 1,200 out of 2,000.
Anyway, this was the once a year finally where all the Linsly boys would get to “let it all adhere to out.” Probably not a scold choice of disproportion given 1/4 of the imagination is happy and about 15% of the students were trending homo. Linsly, which was always prying in harnessing everyone’s creativity (as enlarged as it was an try to lift supports for Reagan’s 1984 reelection discuss against Walter Mondale… almost a wash filled initiate vehicle wash would do the trick). once again, not a great feeling unless you’re a movie senior manager specializing in happy porn. my prove – this is was the eventuality for every juvenile masculine during Linsly to radiate (and sparkle, in a Liza Minellish kind of way).
There was all kinds of jubilee during the Extravaganza. usually there would be a humerous party skit. This would bleed a triumphant spattering of deferential applause. you examination one occasion. It was one of those thoughts analgesic “who’s on first, third base” routines. Cumbersome. Weak.
Then you’d have the tumblers. This was about fifteen guys who would do robust stunts. For the finale, one masculine would burst in the air and somersault over everyone. This was radically graceful impressive. At the time, you was bewildered nobody ever pennyless their neck. Not sure if you could get away with that try these days in WV, the self direct litigious heck-hole. What a appalling feeling in which to believe paralysis.
“How did you finish up in that wheelchair?
Poor thing. Hmmm, the Linsly Extravaganza. Hmmmm.
As you silently think, “Not many apply oneself there.”
Then there would be a organization of shirtless organization with faces detailed on their stomachs. In retrospect, this was graceful diverting given it was always the fat kids with exquisite guts. Speaking of guts, I’ve always been a critical proponent of trying to normalize the word “gunt” which is a mixed of stomach and cunt. In a matching vain, I’m trying to mainstream the word “gock.” Gock is simply the enlarged overdue materialisation of gunt: Gock being a mixed of stomach and cock.
Then there was almost a thirteen year elderly magician. Ohhh, how he would enfeeble the mob with tag tricks from an ridiculous distance. or how about the tiny dumbshit kid with a yo yo. honestly, it would have been cold to have the tiny “mild” in advance hecklers in the audience. This has always been a tip mental condition of mine. Sometimes on Maury, you attend to the bellow of the crowd. They have been booing with such ferocity. right during the finish when the receptive to recommendation dissipates, you intermittently attend to “SLUT” or “WHORE” often easeful as a cough. the all-time pleasure was when someone muttered “PEEPING TOM.” you indoctrinate this blog hadf sound, given the feeling in which it was said, the tonal infusion… well, it was in truth a work of art. An listened attainment of extensive intrepidity and unmixed cunning.
Participation in the Extravaganza was mandatory. so everyone had to get involved. the lamest were those who worked “behind the scenes” with the props or set-up. These were the self-admitted losers with definitely no focussed whatsoever. a tie runner-up was the certification choir. see, if you didn’t want to do shit for this shit, you’d hang on the chorus. you was a partial of of the chorus.
Finally, onto the republic aria sensation/Marshall County prime of unequaled proportions. He’d get up and sing that “Bye bye miss American Pie, Drove my Chevy to the levy, til the levy was dry, Spend all day jubilee whiskey and rye, sayin’ this will be the day that you die, this will be the day that you die” song. I’ve always hated this anthem. It just drones on way too long. and worse yet, it encourages a organization sing-a-long dynamic. It’s not that you do not identical to a great sing-a-long. Hell, you have very sexual memories of Jew sing-a-longs.
Draydel, Draydel, you finished it out of clay, Draydel, Draydel, so let’s go out and play.
Perhaps an fatiguing smoothness of Dayenu.
How about that Ha Va Na Gilah, Ha Va Na Gilah, Ha Va Na Gilah be’en Yisrael excrement?
The set-back one you stop is a passover recitation where you repeat this never ending Jewish account of the twelve days of Christmas. This one ends with an elderly masculine regaling us with the virtues of thriftiness. It closes with what he paid for for 10 “Assuzim” or “Messuzim” or something that ends in “uzim.”
Anyway, Brad would sing that Don McLean aria for twelve mins and the mob would immersion him with adulation. you must admit, the kid sounded good. you was a girl during the time, so you think he was almost in 8th grade. everyone would store unstinting courtesy upon Brad. but there was this one asshole who current to be the exception. you was that asshole.
A integrate of times when we spoke I’d say, and you quote, “Brad, you receptive to recommendation great out there, but you unquestionably need to work on letter your own material.” he would reply with, and you quote, “I know Eric, I’m user on it.” we had this design examination during least twice. Other than that, we didn’t have many interaction.
So it was me. you was the one who didn’t intonation his ego. you was the decaying manager who didn’t lift any punches. you was the one. so the successive time you attend to that “Mud on the Tires” change on the radio, think of me. or maybe think of Gil White’s mom who entertainment over my towering and then in to Fuckface’s pool. she got a tiny silt on her tires. but in all honesty, you always liked Brad. he was a great masculine with a appreciative demeanor. and as far as the bubbly beverage cunt-tree aria genre goes, he’s graceful damn good. way better than the Kenny Chesney douche baguette.
One final prove per the Passover Seder. I’m often asked, “Saf, out of all 10 plagues, which one is your favorite.” the answer, “#2 – Plague of Frogs.” Here have been all the 10 fatal plagues. Readers, feel giveaway to name your favorite!
1. Plague of Blood (?ָ?): ex. 7:14–25
2. Plague of Frogs (?ְּ?ַ?ְ?ֵּ?ַ): ex. 7:25–8:11
3. Plague of Gnats (?ִּ?ִּ??): ex. 8:12–15
4. Plague of Wild Beasts (?ָ??ֹ?): ex. 8:20–32
5. Plague of Pestilence (?ֶּ?ֶ?): ex. 9:1–7
6. Plague of Boils (?ְׁ?ִ??): ex. 9:8–12
7. Plague of Hail (?ָּ?ָ?): ex. 9:13–35
8. Plague of Locusts (?ַ?ְ?ֶּ?): ex. 10:1–20
9. Plague of Darkness (??ֹ?ֶ?): ex. 10:21–29
10. Death of the Firstborn (?ַ?ַּ? ?ְּ??ֹ??ֹ?): ex. 11:1–12:36