Pfft. Obviously she’s from Alcatraz.
I dunno - Alaska.
You have a deal (I don’t think I’d ever have said any of those things anyway, under any circumstances).
It’s the only way we can eat them, on account of all having poor teeth.
Yeah, but what did Della wear?
Alaska? 
You’re taking the mickey out of me, aren’t you. :dubious: Damned British–you never know if they’re joking or thick as two planks. 
I’m from just outside Chicago, dummies. The first time I went to London, people would ask me where I was from. As soon as I said Chicago. their hands formed into guns and they said “bang bang”. The first time it happened, it was cute. By day 3, I was a bit tired of it. By day 11, I was actively wracking my brain for a decent, subtle insult, but I never came up with one. So, I just smiled and kept going…
I had some great food in London–it was Italian, but it was still great.
That’s different. You’re getting sweet, delicious saturated fat. Boiling french fries is just boho mashed potatoes without the fun of buttermilk or cream.
Come to Britain, where the humour flies over your head.
Not What It Was, Mustn’t Grumble
Britain: Isle of WHOOSH!
Sorry for the hijack, but you might appreciate this, jjimm (and I’m led to believe it’s true - I hope it is):
An English traveller found himself in a western New South Wales town in the 1950s. Hungry, he ordered a steak over the bar at the local pub. It came with chips. The English bloke said, “I say, could I possibly have some vegetables with that?”
The publican looked confused for a second or two, then called over his shoulder, “Hey Mavis! Chuck an egg on, will ya luv?”
BRITAIN.
My land
I dunno how good “chowder’s land” would look as a motto.
Nah, that’s reserved for New England. Mmmm clam chowder luvverly stuff avec clam cakes.
When I’m dictator of merrie England I’ll make certain that foodstuff is on every table cos we don’t have it over here
So do you bootleg much whisky?
You like Italian food so I’m assuming that you must be a member of the Mafia.
Asking the British people to come up with a national slogan? Ouch.
The only ones with the motivation to respond are probably too intelligent not to take the piss.
They did this not so long ago on the Isle of Man. We are now the proud owners of the national slogan “Freedom to Flourish”. Woo! And apparantly, we’re getting a giant plastic seagull to underline the point.
I don’t know about anyone else, but all the suggestions I heard for a national slogan were far better than what we got stuck with. My favourite:
“The Isle of Man: no-one knows who the fuck we are.”
Britain. Keeping Your Personal Information Secure Since: Tuesday.
“…so let’s trash the place!”
“Britain: We’ve already apologised, now deal with it.”
Britain, that dinky little island that once ruled the world.
Beat that