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mrstojourspret

Really Experienced
Joined
Oct 27, 2014
Posts
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I see a few other ladies share my deep appreciation for an accent. I recently went to Dublin and I swear every time a guy opened his mouth to say anything, I got wet. My favorites are British, Irish, Scottish, and Australian. You could read the phone book to me and I'd melt ;)

Do guys think American accents are cute?
 
mrstojourspret said:
I see a few other ladies share my deep appreciation for an accent. I recently went to Dublin and I swear every time a guy opened his mouth to say anything, I got wet. My favorites are British, Irish, Scottish, and Australian. You could read the phone book to me and I'd melt ;)

Do guys think American accents are cute?
Click to expand...

I do especially a southern accent.
 
Of Welsh decent myself but obviously have lost any resemblance of that accent.
 
No everyone around me thinks I speak normally, it is everyone else in the world that doesn't :)
 
mrstojourspret said:
I see a few other ladies share my deep appreciation for an accent. I recently went to Dublin and I swear every time a guy opened his mouth to say anything, I got wet. My favorites are British, Irish, Scottish, and Australian. You could read the phone book to me and I'd melt ;)

Do guys think American accents are cute?
Click to expand...

Its been suggested that the foreign accent is a sign that the person form a different place, higher chance of more diverse genes and hence more attractive. Differences are attractive...

American accents - mostly I dont find attractive and sometimes are annoying to my ear - but then I'm exposed to this a lot through media/TV etc.

Russian english - sounds attractive to me.
 
I'm right there with you on the accents Mrs..... English and Irish just make me weak in the knees. To go even further, some Brit. accents more so than others.

For my own American accent... I'm a little up in the air. Having lived half my life in Ohio and the other in WV. I've got the mid-west accent with just a hint of the southern twang. In WV everyone comments that "I'm not from around here" and in Ohio... people I knew when younger, just laugh about how it's changed to the WV accent, (which I can't even hear on myself).

It's all about what you're used to hearing, I guess.
 
I have real trouble when speaking French.

My last formal tuition in French was over 50 years ago in Australia.

It was and is a long way from Melbourne to any French-speaking territory so all my French teachers were Australian, taught French in Australia.

Even now, when I speak French, I have the Australian accent I lost 50 years ago in English. The normal reaction of a French person in France is an unspoken WTF!, a shake of the head, and for them to attempt to speak in English, because it couldn't possibly sound as bad as my French.

What makes it worse is that my wife's French is crystal clear, cut glass academic Parisian French. When she was at University - studying French of course - she used to spend all her holidays as an Au Pair in Paris. Her main role was to look after the grandfather who was blind. But he had been a Professor of French Literature at the Sorbonne. He wanted her to read French Classics to him. Of course he insisted that she spoke in clear, precise, educated French.

She still does. But if we both speak French in Calais we cause confusion.

If she speaks first, the normal reaction is that she must be French, from Paris, and she is obviously from the upper echelons of Parisian society.

If I speak next, the feeling is: "Why did such an educated woman marry such a hick?"

If the other way around, and I speak first, they assume I'm an Englishman. A few recognise the Australian accent. When she speaks, they think I've had the good taste to marry a cultured Frenchwoman. If she tells them she's English, they don't believe her. Even the local secondary school teachers don't speak French as well as she does.

But I can understand everything the French of Calais say to me. Sometimes my wife can't, because their accent is so thick compared to Paris.

One French Mayor told me, after I had made a speech in French, that although he had understood me with difficulty, I reminded him of the 1950s dock labourers of Marseilles, who had an incomprehensibe argot of their own. Perhaps, next time, I could get my wife to read my speech? Please?
 
That's interesting, oggbashan. I have a not dissimilar story - my English accent is a more or less standard Oxford/modified RP English. People assume I'm fairly well to do, well educated, etc. But I lived for a year in the Beaujolais region of France when I was 9, which is where I learned my French - an incredibly rural village in the 80s. So whenever I am in Paris visiting friends, etc, and I switch between English and French, you can see the social barometers in people's minds going haywire.
 
DesEsseintes said:
That's interesting, oggbashan. I have a not dissimilar story - my English accent is a more or less standard Oxford/modified RP English. People assume I'm fairly well to do, well educated, etc. But I lived for a year in the Beaujolais region of France when I was 9, which is where I learned my French - an incredibly rural village in the 80s. So whenever I am in Paris visiting friends, etc, and I switch between English and French, you can see the social barometers in people's minds going haywire.
Click to expand...

I can understand that.

My Spanish is even worse. I learned it from Dockyard Workers in Gibraltar when I was the same age as you in Beaujolais. Their Spanish was thickly accented and used swearwords as adjectives - the English equivalent would be:

"This fucking piece of wood is the wrong fucking length, asshole!"

I could communicate in Gibraltar. At the time we had a Spanish maid. She tried, unsuccessfully, to suggest that some Spanish words and phrases I was using were inappropriate for a 9-year-old.

Several years and two schools later one of my friends was half Spanish. He was interested in the idea that I could understand when he spoke Spanish. None of his other friends could. His mother wanted to see this boy who could speak Spanish so I was invited to their house for tea.

Even at my then age of 14 I knew that my Spanish wasn't suitable for polite society. I was reluctant to express myself in Spanish, but she and her English husband insisted. So I spoke Spanish. I explained, in Spanish, how and from whom I had learned my Spanish. The husband thought I was hilarious. His wife clapped her hands over her ears and fled to the kitchen. She too was laughing but embarrassed.

They had an interesting history. He had been a British consultant Civil Engineer working on bridge building for a new road in Spain when their Civil War started. Part of the road was crossing the estate lands of a local grandee, and the Civil Engineer had negotiated details with the family, and had met their daughter.

The grandee and his wife had been anti-Franco, had been captured and shot. Franco's forces were advancing on the area and work on the road had ceased. The daughter was alone in the family mansion. If caught, she too would have been shot. The Civil Engineer, being English, could leave the country and was not threatened by either side in the war. But he couldn't take the daughter with him. She was on a list of those scheduled to be executed.

But - he could leave with a wife. He proposed. She accepted. The local priest married them that day, and they left for the British Embassy in Madrid where she was added on to her husband's passport. No one was looking for a Mrs (Englishman) so they were able to travel via France to England.

As the husband of the sole surviving member of that Spanish aristocratic family, he acquired a Spanish Title that he couldn't use without the threat of being shot if he went to Spain. His wife's titles were even more exalted than her husband's - as were those of their son, direct heir to the family estates in Spain.

His and her Spanish was aristocratic.

Mine? Guttersnipe.
 
oggbashan said:
I can understand that.

My Spanish is even worse. I learned it from Dockyard Workers in Gibraltar when I was the same age as you in Beaujolais. Their Spanish was thickly accented and used swearwords as adjectives - the English equivalent would be:

"This fucking piece of wood is the wrong fucking length, asshole!"

I could communicate in Gibraltar. At the time we had a Spanish maid. She tried, unsuccessfully, to suggest that some Spanish words and phrases I was using were inappropriate for a 9-year-old.

Several years and two schools later one of my friends was half Spanish. He was interested in the idea that I could understand when he spoke Spanish. None of his other friends could. His mother wanted to see this boy who could speak Spanish so I was invited to their house for tea.

Even at my then age of 14 I knew that my Spanish wasn't suitable for polite society. I was reluctant to express myself in Spanish, but she and her English husband insisted. So I spoke Spanish. I explained, in Spanish, how and from whom I had learned my Spanish. The husband thought I was hilarious. His wife clapped her hands over her ears and fled to the kitchen. She too was laughing but embarrassed.

They had an interesting history. He had been a British consultant Civil Engineer working on bridge building for a new road in Spain when their Civil War started. Part of the road was crossing the estate lands of a local grandee, and the Civil Engineer had negotiated details with the family, and had met their daughter.

The grandee and his wife had been anti-Franco, had been captured and shot. Franco's forces were advancing on the area and work on the road had ceased. The daughter was alone in the family mansion. If caught, she too would have been shot. The Civil Engineer, being English, could leave the country and was not threatened by either side in the war. But he couldn't take the daughter with him. She was on a list of those scheduled to be executed.

But - he could leave with a wife. He proposed. She accepted. The local priest married them that day, and they left for the British Embassy in Madrid where she was added on to her husband's passport. No one was looking for a Mrs (Englishman) so they were able to travel via France to England.

As the husband of the sole surviving member of that Spanish aristocratic family, he acquired a Spanish Title that he couldn't use without the threat of being shot if he went to Spain. His wife's titles were even more exalted than her husband's - as were those of their son, direct heir to the family estates in Spain.

His and her Spanish was aristocratic.

Mine? Guttersnipe.
Click to expand...
A wonderful story! Thank you - wholly enjoyable.
 
Oghbashan, you seem to be entirely too interesting to be allowed. :)
Cheers.


I personally adore women with American accents.
 
Excuse my ridiculously long post. You just reminded me of a story I felt compelled to tell.

I work at a hotel and everybody makes fun of me because if a guy comes in with an accent (British or Australian), I about lose it. I make nicknames for them so I can freely discuss them with my co-workers. My boss even joked that I made the wrong keys for one Aussie guy (twice!) on purpose so he'd have to keep coming back (I didn't, I swear!). He suggested I call his room and offer him a free drink in the bar (where I was actually working that night) for all the trouble I caused trying to "help" at the desk. I thought that was about creepy and desperate, though fairly brilliant if I were attractive enough to pull it off. He may have been worth breaking a few rules.

Name brand hotel. Fraternize=fired.

Though, as far as I know there's no camera on the back doors.

Anyway, apparently the Aussie was in town on a whim but kept extending his stay because the American girls were eating him up (literally, I assume). The night guy found this out because, on his last night, the Aussie left at 2am, lamenting that he wasn't able to pick up the girl he was after, so he might as well get on the road.

Apparently the night guy said something to the tune of, "Too bad [boredpisces] isn't here. She really liked you."

To which the Aussie replied, "Well, I'll be back in February."

The other girl I work with (who he paid much more attention to) has a similar name to mine, and she's this tiny, adorable perpetually-teen-lookin' hot thing. But I'm told my co-worker made it abundantly clear which of us he was talking about (I'm "the loud one"), so I live in perpetual anxiety over some ridiculously attractive Australian guy who may or may not be back in February, may or may not recognize me and may or may not expect me to sleep with him...
 
Last edited:
boredpisces said:
Excuse my ridiculously long post. You just reminded me of a story I felt compelled to tell...........

................ so I live in perpetual anxiety over some ridiculously attractive Australian guy who may or may not be back in February, may or may not recognize me and may or may not expect me to sleep with him...
Click to expand...

It sounds like a fantasy that you could enjoy reliving until February, which is almost weeks away now.
 
Had the opportunity to exchange audio with a sweet woman from the UK and her voice was amazingly sexy. She said my midwestern American accent wasn't bad either. :)
 
I love women with british accents. And those southern belles too.
I get comments on my brooklyn accent from those two as well. Most seem to like it.
 
I've got a bit of a mixed accent and according to one enthralling litster, she had a lot of fun listening to me :)
 
I'm pulling this thread from the ashes just because I have to tell somebody. The Aussie is coming back! He made a reservation for next weekend. My co-worker rolled her eyes about him coming for Valentine's Day to "prey" on the single women of Boulder. And all I've been able to think is, "Will I be one of them?" :devil:
 
I'm sorry If we are talking accents.....there is only one that matters....Brooklyn Italian.....lol
 
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