Our buddy Poro has a bit of a problem…

Despite his flawless skill with written English (to the proficiency where he can understand what I’m saying when I’m being ridiculous), Poro cannot speak English worth a whit (which is exactly one quarter of a flying fig, or 7/19 of a rat’s ass).

“Who cares?” you may ask “The man lives in Greece where most everyone speaks Greek, and his overseas contact takes the form of written communication!” Well you selfish twit, maybe you should think past just your own needs! What about ME? I am planning on mooching off Poro by sleeping on his couch and defiling his women next summer! I need to be able to communicate to the man things like “More beer” and “I have bed sores, please turn me”.

Perhaps if I brought a chalkboard…

(Ian arrives by taxi from whatever the airport in Greece is called – maybe it’s called the Hammer of Zeus or the Jock-strap of Thor or something – showing up at Poro’s summer home)
Ian: Word, Malakas!
Poro: Double-yoo tee eff?
Ian: No English? Mama Mia! (Pulls out chalkboard. Writes) <I thought I told you to learn English!>
Poro: Oqongfe qefoinf pbvslknd (Translation: Complete gibberish)
Ian: <What? Ah ferget it. Get in the cab, we’re going to the beach>
(At the beach)
Ian: (Spies a hottie) <Wow, that chick has nice firm tits>
Girl: (Something in Greek)
Ian: <What did she say?>
Poro: <She says she can read English and doesn’t appreciate your derogatory comments>
Ian: <Whisper Wow, let’s pass on this bitch>
Poro: <I think she can still read it if you put the word ‘whisper’ beforehand>
Ian: <Whisper No, but I put asterisks before it.>
Poro: <Ah, it’s okay then>
Girl: (Pulls out her own chalkboard) <So which one of you assholes is gonna fuck me?>
Ian and Poro: MAMA MIA!!!



Of course, it may not be this hilarious… real life seldom is.