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You ever notice how people from Boston have this wicked pissah accent? I mean, you could be having the most serious conversation with them, and it still sounds like they're inviting you to a clam bake or something. I was at the airport, and this guy comes up to me, full Boston accent, and says, "Hey, you gotta get on that plane ovah there, kid. It's wicked fast, like the Green Monstah!" I'm thinking, "Dude, I just want to get to my gate, not race a plane against Fenway Park."
And don't get me started on the word "car." In Boston, it's more like "cah." They drop the "r" like it's a hot potato. "I parked my cah by the hahbah." I'm like, "Is your car having a spa day by the harbor, or did you just forget how to pronounce things?
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Bostonians are notorious for giving directions that make you feel like you're navigating a labyrinth. I asked this guy, "How do I get to Quincy Market?" He looks at me dead serious and goes, "Alright, kid, you go down the street, take a left at Dunkin', go past the packie, and it's right by the bubbler." I'm standing there thinking, "Am I going on a treasure hunt or trying to find a market?" And the street names! Good luck pronouncing those. You got words like "Worcester" that sound more like a tongue twister than an actual place. "Yeah, just head down to Woo-ster, take a right at the rotary, and you'll find it." I'm thinking, "I need a GPS and a translator just to understand your directions, buddy.
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Bostonians have this unmatched pride in their sports teams, especially the Patriots. I went to a game, and the fans were so into it. They're chanting, "We're wicked awesome! We're wicked awesome!" I'm thinking, "Is this a football game or a self-esteem workshop?" And their love for Tom Brady is on another level. I overheard a conversation, and this guy says, "Brady's more reliable than the 'T' during rush hour." For those not in the know, the 'T' is the Boston subway, and if you've ever been on it during rush hour, you know that's not saying much for reliability.
But hey, you gotta respect the passion. They bleed red, white, and blue, and maybe a little clam chowder too. It's like their sports teams are family, and Tom Brady is the favorite nephew who went off to win seven Super Bowls.
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Let's talk about the weather in Boston. It's like Mother Nature can't make up her mind. One day, it's hotter than a pot of baked beans, and the next day, it's colder than Tom Brady's goodbye to the Patriots. I asked a Bostonian about the weather, and he goes, "Oh, it's New England, kid. If you don't like the weathah, wait a minute." I'm like, "Wait a minute? I've already gone through three seasons while waiting for you to finish that sentence!"
And the snowstorms! They talk about snow like it's a friendly neighbor. "Oh, we're getting a dustin' tonight." A dustin'? I'm pretty sure my car is buried under what feels like the summit of Mount Everest, but sure, let's call it a dustin'.
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