Listen, I love Ian.
But he talks weird.
In a hilarious way.
I would describe his speech as a hodgepodge of random consonant clusters, redundant vowels, rhyming and obscure pop-culture references.
It rubs off on me, too. Which is fine. Whatever. When I’m talking to him, I don’t notice. Sometimes we will quote viral videos to the point where they are not quotes anymore, they have become regular vocab. Have you seen this? If you have, good work. If not, remedy it immediately. How do you sleep nights? Becuse these babby cant frighth back. This is serious crap! Sometimes I have it on repeat in the background while I am doing homework. It soothes me. When I have a babby of my own, I will play that to her while I rock her to sleep.
Anyway, the video is all about the babbies. So I use that word instead of baby, and sometimes I say it to people who don’t know the video, and who have babies inside their stomachs or outside their stomachs, and then I am cruelly mocked because that’s the way my friends are.
Another example. Person: “GUESS WHAT, [insert great thing that happened]!” Me: “Snoo snay, that is sno snood!” (translation: No way, that is so good!)
Here is a real life example from Ian.
“It is too cold! Too cold…snoo snold…”
That is genuinely a way that Ian talks, and now I talk that way, and it is all his fault.
As an English Linguistics major, I am required to do mini-studies a lot, and I frequently use Ian as my test subject. The results are intriguing. For one particular project I made notes about irregular speech patterns I heard, as well as recording him at least once a week for a semester. This lead to me recording a bunch of bizarre crap that I have become used to, but really, Ian is an odd duck. It’s hilarious. Some of these have some insular references that will be hard to understand if you are not from Provo, so I’ve provided helpful links. So you can get the jokes.
(Driving in the car, not saying much of anything. Suddenly Ian spoke.)
“Did you know Mark Wilburg used to be my dad?”
Just so you know. Ian has NO history with Mark Wilburg. No relation, no friendship-connection. They have never met. Later that day he had an eggo waffle served with cream cheese and half a block of cheddar grated and melted on top. That’s not relevant to Mark Wilburg, but it is disgusting.
(Driving to 7-11 to get a soda)
“Why is the Y lit up??? This must be what hell feels like.”
When the Y is lit up, it’s pretty low key. Just a shiny Y on the mountain. Kind of fun. Before this declaration, Ian had never expressed displeasure concerning putting electric lights on mountains in the shapes of modern roman letters. Nor has he since. When I pressed him for details on what made this incident so hellish, I was given none.
(A conversation between Ian and me, while walking on campus)
Me: “I thought that was a joke.”
Ian: “Would I joke about that?”
Me: “You joke about everything.”
Ian: “I know. That was a joke.”
And, to take us out…
(I am trying to get a pot out of the cupboard, so it’s noisy. Ian suddenly rushes out of the bathroom.)
Ian (who upon seeing me, and what I am doing, is very disappointed): “Oh, I thought you were getting out the toybox.”
Then he walked sadly away.
YES, WE HAVE A TOYBOX AND NO CHILDREN. Several. What? Maybe. Yes. K, bye.