Transcribed from: ZTV (Sweden)[Mark as an old lady, solving a crossword puzzle in her garden.]
Transcribed by: email@example.com
Mark: I'm all in favor of certain people having their own, you know, lifestyle, but...why did they have to take the word "gay"? It's such a lovely word! They've...they've robbed the English language of a beautiful word. I...they have. I mean, now if I say to one of my friends, or one of my friends asks me, "How is your son or daughter feeling?", and I say "Oh, they're feeling gay"...it's a scandal. I've had to stop using the word altogether. Oh. So they've taken "gay" away from us. What was wrong with "pervert"?
And you can't use the word "faggot" anymore either, you...it used to be a lovely bundle of sticks. On cold winters' nights you'd throw another faggot on the fire. But now they work in restaurants, making your salads, being snotty and still expecting fifteen percent.
"Cunnilingus"? My grandfather drove one across America. With pride. He bought the first one off the lot in 1923. Oh, but now they're all gone, forgotten - the Cunnilingus, the Rambler. Oh. I suppose "Rambler" means something filthy now too, does it, does it mean something...?
Can't use the word "fisting" anymore either, oh no. No, no. But back in the forties the girls and I used to fist every Sunday afternoon. It was a knitting stitch, and a very difficult one. I made a lovely yellow afghan full of tiny, intricate fistings, that won a, that won a grand prize at a, at a jamboree. Yeah. Gave up knitting altogether, though, in 1979, finally found out what the word meant, oh no. No, no. I took that afghan with all that lovely fisting and put it up the poop-hole. Oh, that's, that's what we used to call attic. Now they're all gone, locked away, like those beautiful words.
Well, I guess I'm just supposed to fade away, in silence...or be modern and accept it. Fine. I guess I'll just have a Fuck Off. Oh, that used to be a summer drink, you know.