I came across a new (to me) channel on YouTube today and the first video I tried was full of good tips. She’s British so she seems to be coming at it from a practical standpoint of how to get by as an immigrant in Portugal rather than doing a lot of detailed stuff about grammar. Bookmarked for later to try the rest of her videos.
Quite interested to see this word “esquerdoide” or “esquerdoido” pop up a few times on Portuguese language twitter on both sides of the Atlantic. It seems to be the equivalent of the word “leftard” used by obnoxious maga types. It’s used in more-or-less the same way: identify some stupid thing said or done by one person or a small group of people on the other side. If it’s apocryphal or even if you just made it up, it doesn’t matter much. Then generalise that to characterise everyone in the other party as sharing the same opinion and being a bunch of leftards /esquerdoidos who aren’t smart like what we is. Sad.
The guy in the original tweet here is some Bolsonaro fartcatcher, so in American terms, this is like – I dunno – Stephen Miller, or Zac Goldsmith in the UK, mouthing off and one of their supporters jumping in and going “Yes, yes, they are all crazy aren’t they! Shit in my mouth please” or whatever people say when they wholeheartedly support the government in the face of all the evidence and are willing to let them get away with absolutely anything.
Side-note. “Coringa vírus” is presumably a reference to the movie Joker which is called Coringa in Brazil.
Trigger warning: may contain rudity.
Two weird pieces of slang grammar in the Walking Dead book I’m reading (Vol 12, which is called “Viver Entre Eles” in portuguese), during a scene in which Abraham finds out Eugene has been lying all along and that Washington is not, in fact, a safe haven.
- Seu filho de puta
- Porque, c’um caraças?
Apparently that c’um is short for “com um”, and the “seu” can mean “you are” although why the heck that should be, I have absolutely no idea! To me it just looks like he’s saying “your son of a whore” which is baffling.
Paulo on iTalki offers an extra bit of wisdom, saying that “seu filho de puta” is ironically following the very formal way of addressing a member of the aristocracy – e.g. Sua Alteza Real o princípe-herdeiro, equivalent to “his royal highness….”. My mind is still grappling with this new information. Can it be right? It seems like a lot of baroque irony to apply to – basically – a physical assault…
–update to the update–
OK, Paulo’s explanation checks out. Although the person probably isn’t going out of their way to be wittily ironic, the format “seu…” is derived from that way of speaking and indicates a higher degree of specificity – you specific son of a whore!
Thanks Ariene for helping me with these.
I’m going to use this post as a notepad for brazilian language notes.
I’ve been having skype language exchanges with a brazilian PE teacher who lives in Portugal, and that’s not too bad because he knows the euopean dialect, but I’ve also joined a sort of online gaming board made up of some brazilian dudes who talk in abbreviations, and that’s like being buffeted about inside a washing-machine full of abbreviations.
One that flummoxed me was “blz” which, from the context I thought was a borrowed “please” (they use borrowed americanisms like “man” a lot so this is not as mad as it sounds) but it’s actually “beleza” which is a regional way of saying “ok” or “understand?” You reply with “beleza” if you get it and “não entendi” if not.
Galera seems to be used in more or less the same way as the portuguese “malta” in my group but I think it’s more like “team”
Means “Puta que pariu” literally ‘bitch that gave birth’ but less literally just a general all-purpose swear. Linguee translates it as “fucking hell”
I think this might be my favourite example of weird english slang being absorbed into portuguese. So far I have only come across brazilian examples, but like the US and UK, these things have a way of making their way across the atlantic. For those of you who don’t have kids of a certain age, “shipping” is when you speculate/imagine/fantasise about two people, real or imaginary, who are, or should be in a relationSHIP. From what I can tell, tween girls seem to do it a lot with males: fictional characters, pop stars, or whoever. I’m not sure why their being gay should be so exciting, but who can understand anything when it comes to tweenagers? Often there’s a ship name like Rydon (Brendon Urie and Ryan Ross) or Klance (Keith and Lance from the series Voltron). It’s always kinda been around in celebrity gossip (Brangelina, for example) but seems to be a huge deal in fandoms, with people arguing over matches between diverse and unlikely characters.
I just love that it’s become a proper portuguese verb, although I’m a little sad to see it’s not on conjuga-me.net yet. Most new additions to the language from english end up being AR verbs because they’re more regular than ER or IR.
The video below contains (a) brazilian accent and (b) coraçõezinhos
I keep coming across this word “Tuga” on social media only and it’s not in my dictionary so I’d worked out from the context that it was maybe a portuguesified appropriation of “thug” as in “thug life”. Well apparently it’s short for Portuguese. Duh, how thick can I be?
Further on in Como é Linda a Puta da Vida and I’ve come across another thing that made me smile: the Portuguese call foreplay Marmalade.
Or rather Mermelada. As you might know, we get the word from the Portuguese. There’s a folk-etymology about the word, involving Mary Queen of Scots but don’t believe the hype – it’s Portuguese, even though their marmalade is a gelatinous substance made from quince, and ours is a delicious orange-based sticky goo.
Anyway, Miguel Esteves Cardoso bemoans the fact that Marmalade (literal and figurative) is less used these days. The modern word is “preliminares” which is drab to the point of sounding like a bureaucratic procedure, so I can see his point. The double-entendre potential alone of Marmalade should make it an invaluable word. Keep it, you fools!
Faça favor de não usar o autoclismo desta sanita para despejar fraldas, pensos higiénicos, lenços de papel, pastilhas elásticas, telemóveis velhos, contas por pagar, correio indesejado, a camisola da sua “ex”, esperanças, sonhos ou peixes dourados.