Let's face it: English is a crazy language. There is no egg in eggplant 
or ham in hamburger; neither apple nor pine in pineapple.
English muffins were not invented in England nor french fries in France.

Sweetmeats are candies, while sweetbreads, which aren't sweet, are meat. 
We take English for granted. But if we explore its paradoxes, we find 
that quicksand can work slowly, boxing rings are square, and a guinea 
pig is neither from Guinea nor is it a pig. And why is it that writers 
write, but fingers don't fing, grocers don't groce, and hammers don't 
ham?

If the plural of tooth is teeth, why isn't the plural of booth beeth? 
One goose, 2 geese. So, one moose, 2 meese? Is cheese the plural of 
choose? If teachers taught, why didn't preachers praught? If a 
vegetarian eats vegetables, what does a humanitarian eat? In what 
language do people recite at a play, and play at a recital? Ship by 
truck and send cargo by ship?

Have noses that run and feet that smell? Park on driveways and drive
onparkways?

How can a slim chance and a fat chance be the same, while a wise man and 
a wise guy are opposites?

How can the weather be hot as hell one day and cold as hell another?
When a house burns up, it burns down. You fill in a form by filling it 
out and an alarm clock goes off by going on. When the stars are out, 
they are visible, but when the lights are out, they are invisible. And 
why, when I wind up my watch, I start it, but when I wind up this essay, 
I end it?