Shonky wrote:two oh one wrote:Well, those are all wrong. It's actually breeding.
I'm a Lord with a seated title, you see. I'm afraid that if your childhood home isn't an expansive country estate with a Peacock filled lawn and a river bursting with Salmon running through it, you're a dirty Charva. If you can't quote from Shakespeare and know the Latin name for a Copse in a sun-filled valley, then you're a Pikey. When I see you looking through a hedge for owl pellets to eat, I'll pee on you out of my Rolls window as Higgins drives us by.
I feel humbled to be in your prescence sirrah. Although I am thinking it might be worth robbing some antiques when you're passed out from too much claret
Sherry, dear boy, always Sherry. I hesitate that I would give chase upon seeing you making away with the family silver, but I'm afraid a terrible case of gout cripples me. I would put this task of pursuit upon the gamekeeper, who I dare say would give you both barrels out of earshot in the woods.
Another thing to consider (If anybody is bothering considering) that Class is sometimes viewed in different ways by different classes.
Upper class do indeed classify with breeding. They believe that their status is elite and nobody can reach that stage unless being born into it.
Middle classes can believe that education, upbringing and then profession is the basis of the class.
Lower classes often think that money is where the class is derived.
Criminal classes think that class is you know, Sovs, Beyonce and shit.
Upper Upper classes think bumfuckery and doo da haddock nipples to be the key.
I went to school with Chavvy stnuc who had way more money than me. I had to wear British Home Stores hand-me-down trainers. Trainers with ridiculous names and to make matters worse, hand me downs from my bloody NAN. She had manky arthritic toes, so the trainers bulged and looked odd and lumpy. Just imagine what happened when I went to school wearing those.
