I think my school set out to torture me
with the French teaching assistants. Young women who would come over from France and work with the language teachers, taking a few pupils out of the class at a time to practice speaking French. Why torture? Well, as if it wasn't bad enough putting a quiet, chronically shy young man in a room with a stunningly beautiful woman and a handful of his classmates, I was quite good at French...only to find that all my l33t language skillz vanished as soon as this psiren asked me a question and my tongue ceased to function. In particular, the lithe, pert, blonde woman who introduced herself sweetly as "Emilie" and said she was from "Northern France, a small village near Brest."

Oddly enough, the German language assistants never had the same effect on me...

Fast forward three years and a student teacher enrols and takes us for a few biology lessons. I think she was Vietnamese, either way she was unbelieveable. Not to mention those short skirts she wore which I'm fairly sure led to my first real-life sighting of stocking tops. I learnt a lot about my own biology from her.
(LongJohnBaldry, Wed 28 Apr 2010, 10:05, 1 reply, 16 years ago)

this brings back traumatic memories
of French classes spent in the company of an assistant meant to be helping with accent and pronunciation. She had everyone rolling their rs like native Frenchpeople, except me who could only produce a low growl from the back of my throat
( Amberl was stripey and dominated Europe, Wed 28 Apr 2010, 10:11, Reply)

It's probably their fault
that I can roll an 'r' so lasciviously these days...
(LongJohnBaldry, Wed 28 Apr 2010, 10:14, Reply)

That's 'cause when you were younger you were a lion cub.
Possibly.
( Davros' Granddad a voice of calm reason in a world of spastics., Wed 28 Apr 2010, 10:15, Reply)