Whenever I hear somebody speak Latin, something happens to my eye
Sometimes, as I'm wandering the streets, I hear people saying things in Latin. Sometimes they are students, doing Latin homework, and I happen to overhear. Other times they are lawers discussing legal matters and using Latin phrases like "quid pro quo". Incidentally, did you know that the French word for lawyers is EXACTLY THE SAME as the French word for "avocado"? Interesting, no? Sometimes I wonder if they ever get them confused. Like, if you go to a restaurant in Paris and order an avocado, would they place a dead lawyer (smothered in delicious BBQ sauce) on your table? Likewise, if you demanded to see your lawyer, would they show you a nice avocado? Incidentally, what IS an avocado?
But I digress. To get back to the point, something happens to my eye when I hear them speaking Latin. It feels...itchy. But I can't rub it for fear of making things worse.
"Superabimus" is Latin for "we shall overcome."
I've broken the grammar down for you by color. But not shape. I have many markers.
"Rosae" means "Of the rose" or "roses."
"OST MUST ISNT" doesn't mean anything. In any language. Neither does "Spoobly," until now. I have invented a new language. The language is called Spoobly. There is only one word in the language, and that word is "spoobly." You make different faces when you say it to indicate its meaning. For instance, if "spoobly" means "walnut," you stand on your head as you say it.
"Spoobly spoobly spoobly spoobly."
Nothing happens to my eyes when I hear spoobly. I could listen to spoobly all day.
Latin, on the other hand, has my eye getting messed up just GHINKING about it. THINKING. Excuse me. I spoobly.
If there was an army post devoted to detecting Latin, I'd be ideal. If anyone within a mile of me even whispers in Latin. My eye.
My eye is full of enclitic particles. An enclitic particle is a pair of letters that Latin people used to represent question marks. They had no punctuation. They were weird.
They used to nail people to wood. I find this odd--there are so many better uses for wood. Houses. Toilet paper. I actually don't know if they used paper. I shall write down "Did Latin people use paper?" in my list of things I don't know. I keep a list of things I don't know. It's a very long list. Someday I hope it'll get big enough to use as a blanket.
Every time I hear Latin, I'm reminded of my lack of papery knowledge, I ask myself a question that ends in a question mark (which doesn't exist in Latin) and more enclitic particles build up in my eye. Always my left eye. My right eye is ignorant. I hate it.
Itchy. Like sand. Spoobly. Like Spoobly.
Until finally it all gets overwhelming, so I fling open a window and dump all my worries and anxieties into the streets below. Onto the heads of some innocent civilians. The unsuspecting public.
I'd like to apologize to you all, I yell. I'd like to take this opportunity. I shouldn't be dumping my own worries on your head. I need some other way of emptying my eye. That doesn't involve vandalism of baldness of bicycles of spoobly.
I have a bathtub.
I leave the window open.