With apologies to the company in question – whose lovely, natural, Swiss-made cosmetic and body care products The Swinglisher often uses, often gifts to others, and just generally greatly appreciates – one doesn’t really want to have to give 2 pshits in order to fill one’s home with the magnificent scent of figs. At least not in English.
Although clearly not the case among half or so of the United States population, the Swinglisher would say that on the whole, Switzerland is pining along with the other half of the United States population for the days of yore. The hopeful, progressive “Yes We Can” of the era of Barack Obama has become the menacing, imperialistic Trump-era Yes We Can, for example, nuke the f*ck out of you / build a wall to keep your rapists from entering our sacred land, part of which, oh, by the way, used to belong to you and your so-called rapists / grab you by the pussy, if not by the col.
After a year of Trumpishness — to the day, as the Swinglisher posts this on the one-year anniversary of the inauguration — throwbacks to the Obama campaign are appearing around this region. Let’s Go Fitness — you remember what a fitness is, right? — has borrowed the stylized look of Obama’s iconic “Hope” poster, as well as his “Yes We ___” slogan. The Swinglisher likes the concept, but there’s something slightly off in the execution.
Yes We Go, or should, to this fitness or any, to strengthen our bodies and simultaneously clear our minds, at least for a moment, of what the world is becoming. But first, Yes We Go, or yes we should go, to check the syntax of our revised slogan.
Although the Swinglisher’s love and admiration for Swinglish is the driving force behind this blog, she does admit this post seems rather curmudgeonly. Chalk it up to the 365 days of Trumpresidency that have just been endured. Perhaps you feel the same way?
Black Friday means Black Friday, right? Friday, the day after Thursday; Black Friday, the Friday after the Thursday of Thanksgiving?
Sure, in the US (with recent exceptions made by certain stores to allow Thanksgiving Day late-afternoon shopping – what better way to recover from turkey and stuffing overload, not to mention escape from one’s pesky relatives, than by heading to the mall to try one’s hand at shoving enough people out of one’s way to pick up a (probably unneeded) big-screen TV at a bargain price?).
But not here in la Suisse. Here, Black Friday had already begun at one shop on Tuesday, when the Swinglisher snapped the pic on the left, and was set to begin at another the day after, running for three days – “3 special Black Fridays” – until the afore-mentioned original Black Friday itself. But let’s call those two preceding days neither Wednesday and Thursday nor mercredi et jeudi; rather Black Friday the First and Black Friday the Second, capped off by Black Friday the Third, the erstwhile original.
No matter. This place is well-known as un îlot de cherté, which can be translated as “an island of really fucking expensive things among the European Union sea of cheaper, albeit not good-old-American-cheap, goods.” So here, three days of discount shopping is really three days during which you can look at things you still can’t afford. This leads to the Swinglisher’s final verdict on the situation: while Switzerland wins on days of opportunities to shop, the US wins on the providing the possibility that one can actually afford to purchase something.
Thus concludes this post, although the Swinglisher would be remiss in hitting the “publish button” before sending wishes to all devoted readers for a very merry Thanksgiving – or, translated literally and thus ridiculously by yours truly, un joyeux merci-donner.
What could be scarier for Halloween than an exhortation to “cream on”?
A valiant attempt at capturing the spirit of old-fashioned Wild West “Wanted” signs is hampered only by the suggested heights of the suspects. And their ankles.
No sooner had The Swinglisher arrived back in La Suisse than she was flipping through a flyer, looking for a good deal on a new computer, so as to more rapidly process and post photographs of the country’s finest Swinglish (among other activities, slightly more pressing), only to come across an advertisement for a most unusual type of floating toy.
Interestingly, it’s the animals’ heads rather than their asses that are visible in the accompanying picture, perhaps for reasons of modesty. Must the swimrings be turned over to get a better view? No better incentive to get oneself to the store tout de suite!