There are many problems that plague us. Shirts coming untucked when you sit down. Shoes that pull your socks down past your heels. Coffee that takes too long to cool off. Punks who pronounce the name of a certain German carmaker incorrectly. Of all the petty problems in the world, this is by far the most egregious.
You know what I’m talking about. The people start the word strong and promising, with the lips pursed and the tongue lying flat along the bottom of the mouth, ready to eject the rich “por” sound into the world like a newborn. Then the lips draw back, baring the teeth ever so slightly and the tongue flattens more, allowing the hiss of air that carries the “sh” sound to slip through the teeth. And then they just stop there: “Porsh.”
What the fuck is “porsh”? It sounds like an atrocious perversion of what the word should be—an oral fart, if you will. The kind that just sort of whooshes away in the wind with no purpose or declaration. The kind that you’re internally excited for but then infinitely let down when there isn’t any actual release.
Pretend like you don’t even know that Porsche is a German word. If you were to take what you know about how the English language is spoken and pronounced (which, I admit, doesn’t seem like it follows any system of rules at times) you’d end up with something like “Porsh-chee.”
“Porsh” just disregards the last three letters of the word, which is nearly half of the entire goddamn thing.
Anyway, that’s the end of my rant. Good day to you and good riddance.
via Road & Track