Mit der Sprache zu spielen, will geübt sein. Jede Art von Unsinn ist dabei erlaubt. Kann ruhig so abstrus sein, wie unser heutiger Beitrag.
Sprachspiele sind ein Turbo für das Assoziationsvermögen. Sie trainieren das Archiv-Männchen im Kopf und jagen es durch den Wortschatz. Je öfter du übst, desto schneller hast du die Wörter parat. Übrigens nicht nur beim Schreiben, sondern auch beim Reden. Du wirst sehen, dass es auch deiner Schlagfertigkeit hilft. Und ganz ehrlich, es macht verdammt viel Spaß.
Diesmal: Was immer dein Partner dir sagt, kommt dir spanisch vor? Du hat das Gefühl, er redet Fachchinesisch? Er versteht nicht einmal mehr, wenn du Tacheles mit ihm redest? Bevor du dich auf Französisch verabschiedest und Scheidung auf Italienisch in Betracht ziehst, versuch es noch einmal mit britischem Humor. Oder dem, was man in Wien dafür hält. Ein Englischkurs für den Hausgebrauch von Andrea Fehringer und Hermann Herunter.
Sie: Now, you overclever manpicture, don’t hold me for a fool, I know all. The sparrows whistle it from the roofs, that this little american bitch in your office plays the first fiddle in your poor-blessed love-life.
Er: I have it till here, that you cannot hold your big slipper. Overhead would it be such much productiver, to make your clap to and communicate silent with me.
Sie: I make my eyes to, that falls me lighter. So long I see you not, I can introduce me, that you are the man, which I once one time married.
Er: On you is hop and malt lost. Drink a bear with me and hear up with your housebaken aspic.
Sie: I have some undressed applestrudel from yesterday over …
Er: Don’t steer away, I want to know now, what it has on it with this pearl of a secretary from Cupertino.
Sie: I knew, she comes from Silicon Valley! In every rumor lives a little corn of truth.
Er: And you are the fart-eyed chicken, which found the kernel of the poodle.
Sie: You always turn the words around in my mouth, but you cannot guide me anymore behind the light, my sweathard. It’s out and over, one for all times. Now you fall from all clouds, don’t you?
Er: Only to, only to, I know my Pappenheimers. You empty the bath-tub together with the child. But don’t let yourself grow grey hair, in every end houses a new beginning.
Sie: No problem for me, but I’m curious, how you will master your life alone. You are too lazy to stink and too un-sent to shut your trousers-door with your two left hands.
Er: I’m looking more for one, who opens it. This was never one of your poor knowledges.
Sie: Better weep before your own door, unfortunately there was never something behind, which could count as the yellow of the egg.
Er: Even your english lets something to wish over.
Sie: You are also not the world-champignon in tongue-breakers. It open-sighted slipped out of your memory, that you are the one, who two times stayed seated in the grammar-school.
Er: Must you always warm up this old fairy tales? Or do I ride on it around from early to late, that your intelligence-quotient goes into minus?
Sie: Now it reaches. Pack your seven things, take your legs under your arms and go me out of my eyes.
Er: This you must not say me twice, but bury your illusions that you live in my house and eat out of my pocket. This comes not in question!
Sie: So as it looks, we will meet again before the judge. And there is no if and but, that he will speak me to everything, have and good, house and yard, sack and pack. Beat out of your head, that your mattress from Cupertino will wallow around in the mire with you on my linen-shit.
Er: Don’t come me with your empty throats. I have the longer breast, and therefore the air will go you out before me.
Sie: In front of the law is everyone equal, justice will win and the goods always keep overhand.
Er: Your word in gods hearing-aisle, darling! I wish, you would not force me, only to remember the last ten years with you.
Sie: Oh, my sweetener, I knew, our overwhelming carriage is stronger than silikon.
Tipp: Probiere dein eigenes Wortspiel und schicke dein Archiv-Männchen, wie Dagobert Duck in den Geld- bzw. Wortspeicher.
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