Learning English

I had made a comment elsewhere about the number of English-language schools in Almería, including one with the odd name of 'The Mancunian Academy', which presumably teaches its students to speak the Queen's English with a flat Manchester twang. A friend from that city laughed when I told him and said ... the poor things will all be speaking Espancunian. Indeed!
A student I know in the Almería educational system is sixteen and he and his 120 classmates are using a book called 'The Skin I'm In' by a black American author called Sharon Flake. It's written in the vernacular: '...Then I had to fess up and tell her I forgot to do it. She asked Mr Pajolli if it's OK for me to use my office time to do my math homework. He said, yeah, but that I'd have to make up the time later. Teachers don't do nothing but cause you grief, I swear that's all they do.'
There used to be a Scotsman living in Roquetas and who taught English. Can you imagine the sounds his more attentive students made?
McDonalds, the burger people, have a catchphrase: 'I'm lovin' it'. Bad English my friends!
So here's the deal: Learn English from someone who speaks or writes it clearly, because the point is to be able to communicate to those English-speakers you will be meeting later on. Not all of them will speak it very well, so why not make it easy for them. Yeah?