En un classe de terminolgia de ma licenca a la universitat, nos aprendèron coma cal faire per formar neologismes en catalan. Tot foguèt plan complicat, mai de fèit, segons mon experiéncia, formar neologismes es bastant simple.
1) Trapatz un mot del diccionari de la lenga anglesa.
2) Botatz un "-ing" al final, o donatz-lo un significat complètament diferent al qu'a en anglés.
Lo conte suivant es en anglés. Mai los mots en italic son los que venon de l'anglés e que an pres un autre sentit en d'autres lengas europeas. Botatz lo mouse sobre un mot en italic per a veire quinas lengas lo utilizon e quin es lo terme correcte en anglés.
Like every Saturday morning, I got out of bed, put on my jogging, and went to do a bit of footing. When I got home, I crashed on the sofa, put the TV on, and did a bit of zapping. The hit-parade was on. At no.1 this week was a boysband made in France. The guys didn’t come to sing live, so all we got was a video-clip. They were surrounded by pom-pom girls dressed in nothing more than a string and doing a dance that resembled a French cancan. Once the horrible song was over, the adverts began, and we had to hear them again as a spot came on for their latest best-of, which had just come out on compact.
I couldn’t sit in front of the TV any longer, as we were going on holiday and we had to get ready. I had loads of clothes I needed to pack. I started with my slips, as I usually forget them when going on holiday. Where we were going tended to get cold at night, so I also made sure I packed enough sweats, also known as pulls. I also had to pack the smoking I had just got back from the pressing, as well as a paper board, because, unlike for the rest of my family, it wasn’t just a holiday for me. There was an election coming up, and as a prominent lobbyman, I had a mails when the Johnsons, who we were going on holiday with, arrived. We gave them a talkie-walkie so we could stay in contact during the journey without paying the excessive costs of calling each other on the handy. The journey was long, so we tried to find as much to do as possible to help the time fly by. Alice had all her tourist guides out and began to arrange a planning for the week, which was never something I would do, as I prefer to base everything on the feeling. The kids played Trivial in the back with the guy we picked up when we saw him doing auto-stop. After driving all the way to the south coast, I was happy to be getting a rest when we got on the overnight ferry-boat. There was a foot match in the Champions that evening, and the screens showed the game between Manchester and Racing Club de Lens. The English side were lucky not to go a goal down after their goal let a shoot go six feet over the goal-line. Many people watching said he should have been fair-play and admitted to the goal. United then went and scored themselves, which seemed unjust, but there was an happy-end when, after 90 minutes of forcing, Lens went and got two late goals to win. Both goals were scored by Carrière, who was an absolute crack that evening, despite once being left KO following an awful challenge.
At full-time, we went and recreated the match with the footballing, which was also known as a baby-foot. We then wanted to go and watch the steeple in the Paris Golden League meeting, as it was Kipkaya’s first race since becoming world recordman. But Alice moaned that we were watching too much sport, and we went to the on-board cinema to watch a film. It wouldn’t have been too bad, but after the film there were extras, and we had to sit and watch the casting and the making-off, in which the director would spend ten minutes talking about every travelling, and then the speakerine would waffle on for a further ten minutes.
In the morning we were ready to set off, but there was a delay because some skins had carried out a hold-up during the crossing and the police wanted to arrest them. Five hours later we finally arrived at the camping where we were staying. It was a long journey, but we were happy to drive down, as when we had come vueling last year, we had problems because of the company’s surbooking policy.
We were hungry, so we decided to go out for a meal. We took the tramway, as we didn't want to have to drive around looking for a parking. Of course the kids wanted to go to a fast-food, but we were having none of that, so we went to a nice restaurant where we adults had a lovely bistec of pork and the kids just got some cheap choppeds.
The following day the ladies went for a peeling and a lifting, while I went for a game of tennis, with Bill Johnson. He put on his tennis and I put on my baskets, which are normally for playing basket, but I didn’t have anything else. He was easy pickings, and I reached match-ball within an hour. I then hit a wonderful passing to win the match. Bill’s excuse was that he was a rugbyman, not a tennisman.
In the afternoon both my family and the Johnsons went on a trekking together. At the end of the walk, Bill noticed there was a place nearby to go puenting.
TIMOTHY BARTON
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