Full site here – historical thesaurus of drinking words – but I’m going to take screen shots in case you can’t be arsed to follow the link. Perhaps you might be half-shaved, toxic, poggled, shickery, or peloothered yourself right now. Why not, it is a Monday, after all!
I love language. And I love drinking. We still do use a lot of these terms commonly, of course.
In Ireland we have quite a few that may or may not be on the list. I’ve had a few cans and I’m not going back to look!
Rotten (usually preceded by absolutely), rat-arsed, baloobud (likely regional to my town), steamboats, mashed, pished, totalled, poleaxed, writ off (also regional, apparently is said ‘rit aff’), buckled, spannered, slaughtered, wankered (sounds like a really good night, that), pissed as a fart (I love that one), langered or langers, locked, off yer head… it does go on!
Did you find favourites in the list, or have any new ones for the class?
That’s the face. The face I get before he starts talking…
I heard you!
Oh god shut up.
What? What do you want?
Anything, anything to make you shut up…
What do you want from meeeeee?!?
Right, so. I’m behind on posting, on writing, on interacting with all my lovely blog-friends. My brain just hasn’t wanted to share. It’s been months actually since I’ve made an effort. So, I have very little today.
I have a lot of followers from the USA, and I wanted to talk about the differences between the meat I buy in Ireland, and what you all get in the US.
First of all, we have a national quality standard.
Secondly – dude! I can go to this farm and meet your man, if I want to. His name, his address, is right there on the package of steaks.
The provenance is always listed on non-processed food – not only meat, but fruits and vegetables. It makes me wonder why the US can’t, or won’t, do the same for their food. Wouldn’t you like to know that you are buying potatoes from Israel when you live in Idaho?
It’s been yonks since I did anything creative.
Oh: yonks is Irish slang around here for ‘a long time, probably too long.’
Recently – okay a month ago, or longer – I had the time, and the iPad, and a strange enviro men in which to play. Probably about 15 minutes.
I need to play more often, I miss it.
If you have cats, you probably have experienced what we call ‘Now, where the hell am I supposed to sit?’ wherein said cat(s) immediately curl up in the space your warm butt has just vacated. Spot is a master at this, taking only seconds to claim as His the butt-heated chair/cushion/couch/bed.
So. A few months ago, I obtained a slightly ripped, slightly dirty but still brand-new duvet. As I had no real need for it myself, I folded it up and put it into Neko’s bed, because it is an old dog bed and rather thin on the padding.
(round one of seasonal “blowing the coat”. No freakin clue why she does this in the middle of winter)
Considering how much fur she has, Neko still likes a nice warm and soft bed to sleep in. Until she gets too hot and lies on the wood floor, of course.
How do these two stories become one evil cat-habit?
Spot has learned that if he tries to sleep with (or on) Neko, she gets irritated and gets up out of her bed. I’m sure at first, Spottie just wanted doggie cuddles. Once she left the bed, he suddenly had kitty-acres of warmth all to himself. After a few days, Spot had realised he could make Neko leave her own bed, and he now does it every night. Several times a night. Neko got so disgusted she actually left our bedroom and slept downstairs, the poor thing!
(before Spot copped on and they were “sharing” the bed)
I’m still trying to figure out a way of breaking this habit without having to wake up several times…