A few weeks ago, I wrote a column in which I complained about being forced to write fewer words than usual. As a protest, I then petulantly switched to more concise languages, including teenage Twitterspeak, aboriginal Australian and also, in some places where my column was published, Hebrew. How did I obtain the Hebrew? I Google-Translated my own lines.
Source: wiktionary
Before heading into the camera shop, I Google-Translated the appropriate photography-related vocabulary and figured out how to describe what we needed.
Source: wiktionary
I had no clue what he was talking about, but as we were by the Wi-Fi Wall I Google-Translated it on my phone and it turned out he was asking me to go to the teenage disco on Friday night!
Source: wiktionary
There was a letter inside, a Google-translated message in Ukrainian asking Slava L. to provide me and my party with pot in Uman. I had not asked the stoned guy to do this, but it had seemed impolite to refuse the note. He’d gone to the trouble of Google-translating it back and forth several times, as if by this process the translation of the pot request might be incrementally refined.
Source: wiktionary
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