<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7680312</id><updated>2012-02-03T14:42:28.218Z</updated><title type='text'>great yarbles of london</title><subtitle type='html'>"There are fewer more distressing sights than that of an Englishman in a baseball cap" ~ A Time for Heroes by the Libertines</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://greatyarbles.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7680312/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://greatyarbles.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>DD</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18003745773645030791</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>23</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7680312.post-109653673771564012</id><published>2004-09-30T10:31:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2004-11-15T14:53:40.416Z</updated><title type='text'>A</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AMPED&lt;/span&gt; : basic abbrev. of amplified but used to denote a heightened effect or reaction.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-style: italic;"&gt;(I AM) AWFULLY FOND OF A SHERRY BEFORE DINNER&lt;/span&gt; : said by a star, a &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-style: italic;"&gt;top banana&lt;/span&gt;, who likes a little aperitif or two before the show starts - whatever said show may be. Said to be a favourite catchphrase of the great &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Keith Moon&lt;/span&gt; aka The Loon. I guess he and his old mucker John Bonham would have it out in the quest to find Britain's &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;loudest&lt;/span&gt; drummer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just to give you that little bit extra of a jolly for your time wasted here, if I remember rightly The Loon was one of many of the &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Glam Rock&lt;/span&gt; set of the pre-punk 70s who &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;enjoyed sharing a bed with a pert young boy&lt;/span&gt;. I'm sure that legendary LA scenester &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Rodney Bingenheimer&lt;/span&gt; (visually, think of an Andy Warhol who couldn't be bothered to dye his hair) fessed up as much during a &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;Q&lt;/span&gt; magazine feature. Well, these were the times when nothing was said when &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Jimmy Page&lt;/span&gt; was &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;parting the legs of thirteen year-old honeys&lt;/span&gt;. I'll reprint this - lifted from the &lt;strong&gt;&lt;a style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);" href="http://groupiedirt.com/"&gt;Groupie Dirt&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/strong&gt;skinny on &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Led Zep&lt;/span&gt;:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;Jimmy Page is considered a legend when it comes to sex with groupies. We've heard that he hasn't given up his S&amp;M ways and he likes his women to be submissive. We also hear that Jimmy is into role-playing and often asks his sexual conquests to pretend that they're little girls. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;And sometimes maybe those conquests really ARE little girls. Just ask Lori Maddox or Sable Starr, two of many females who had sexual relationships with Jimmy before they reached the age of 15.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;Robert Plant has earned high praise as a lover and he has a huge penis (reportedly almost 10 inches). According to groupies who've had the pleasure of intimate encounters with Mr. Plant, he is a kinder, gentler version of Jimmy Page.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;Robert is playful, flirtatious, and treats most groupies with respect. We also hear that Robert finds it a turn-on when women fawn all over his golden locks. Robert is damn proud that he still has a lot of hair, unlike many of his peers who are rapidly losing theirs!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7680312-109653673771564012?l=greatyarbles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://greatyarbles.blogspot.com/feeds/109653673771564012/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7680312&amp;postID=109653673771564012' title='57 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7680312/posts/default/109653673771564012'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7680312/posts/default/109653673771564012'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://greatyarbles.blogspot.com/2004/09/blog-post.html' title='A'/><author><name>DD</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18003745773645030791</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>57</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7680312.post-109653373451331486</id><published>2004-09-30T09:40:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2005-01-21T10:46:33.250Z</updated><title type='text'>B</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold; COLOR: rgb(255,0,0); FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BANJO&lt;/span&gt; : open a door - with force. Often uttered on &lt;span style="FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;The Bill&lt;/span&gt;, Britain's 'real-life' cops drama. Suffice to say that it's closer to &lt;span style="FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;Friends&lt;/span&gt; than &lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,0,0); FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;The Shield&lt;/span&gt;. The mighty &lt;span style="FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;Shield&lt;/span&gt;!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A couple of brief digressions: &lt;span style="FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;The Bill&lt;/span&gt; itself has only ever been good for one thing - ie one character - &lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"&gt;Tosh Lines&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tosh Lines. A &lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,0,0)"&gt;cartoon blimp&lt;/span&gt; of a police officer (short, fat, dishevelled, fond of a tipple, irascible, with the requisite 'complicated' love life), in &lt;span style="FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;real&lt;/span&gt; real life the actor playing him was an alcoholic; notoriously he went on a week-long bender - luridly pursued by the British 'gutter' press - that killed him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I confess that I - and many others - found the whole thing hysterical back then (late 90s): we were warped young minds seeking warped living legends; but now it's sad. Very sad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course, in the annals of British TV there is a cop drama that sits above all others: &lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold; COLOR: rgb(255,0,0); FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;The Sweeney&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,0,0); FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;Inspector Morse&lt;/span&gt;, I hear? No. Not having that. Here's why. Morse is closer to Agatha Christie's &lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,0,0); FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;Poirot&lt;/span&gt; et al than a street-legal police procedural. He was an &lt;span style="FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;interior&lt;/span&gt; detective, solving a whodunnit - whereas the Sweeney operated as the exact opposite. &lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"&gt;Regan &amp; Carter&lt;/span&gt; pretty much knew who had done it each time - it was all about the chase: finding the &lt;span style="FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;fence&lt;/span&gt; and the &lt;span style="FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;slag&lt;/span&gt; and the &lt;span style="FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;ponce&lt;/span&gt; and the &lt;span style="FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;nonce&lt;/span&gt; with a &lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,0,0)"&gt;"Put&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,0,0)"&gt;'em away, darlin'"&lt;/span&gt; and "Get yer trousers on, you're nicked, sunshine" - and more often than not, a bollocking from 'upstairs' for bending the rules.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A brief bio of the show is &lt;a href="http://www.nostalgiacentral.com/tv/cops/sweeney.htm"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;, and a site with more features is &lt;a href="http://www.plustv.co.uk/listings/programme.php?Programme=The%20Sweeney"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As a clincher, I insist that the melancholic &lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"&gt;exit&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"&gt;music&lt;/span&gt; to &lt;span style="FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;The Sweeney&lt;/span&gt; remains the best there has been on TV. And the opening theme tune itself is right up there in &lt;span style="FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;that&lt;/span&gt; department as well, though there the competition is really stiff: &lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,0,0); FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;Van Der&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,0,0)"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,0,0); FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;Valk&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;span style="FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,0,0)"&gt;The Persuaders&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,0,0)"&gt;The Simpsons&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,0,0)"&gt;The Sopranos&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; . . .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold; COLOR: rgb(255,0,0); FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;BEARD&lt;/span&gt; : my oh my, how the world of show is littered with beards. Even now, so late in the goddamned day. All these people pretending to be in 'conventional' heterosexual relationships, when every chance they get they're off sating their real desires - comparing and nuzzling cocks or conjoining clit rings. An odd, inexplicable quirk is that beards seem to be the predilection of the vertically challenged.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No, I'm not falling into temptation and naming names here - for one thing, the list would go on and on. &lt;span style="FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;Hello!&lt;/span&gt; magazine and its bitchier sister rags are stuffed with beards: indeed, there are C-list celebs whose whole aison d'etre is to serve as a beard - anything, anything to be anywhere near the flashbulbs and spotlights.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To finish, here's &lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold; FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;Roger's Profanisaurus&lt;/span&gt;' tight definitions:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,0,0)"&gt;Ancient: Hairy Pie; mapatasi.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,0,0)"&gt;Recent: a woman married to a gay man in order to conceal his true sexuality. As in: "Do you reckon that Sophie is Edward's beard then, or what?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold; COLOR: rgb(255,0,0); FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BEER GOGGLES&lt;/span&gt; : a great contemporary institution; but being the mincing iconoclast that I am, nowadays I prefer to see them worn by others. That's pure yarbles, of course: I have them on about twice a week, same as just about everybody else I know in this town.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold; COLOR: rgb(255,0,0); FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;BINGO WINGS&lt;/span&gt; : the first of a fair few steals from &lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold; FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;Bo! Selecta&lt;/span&gt; (almost exclusively Series 2). Said wings are the arm flaps on the average middle-aged woman: the bite in &lt;span style="FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;Bo!&lt;/span&gt; is to assign this sadly pretty inevitable physical development to younger female celebs - who, as we all know, spend up to an hour each morning worshipping at the &lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,0,0)"&gt;porcelain altar&lt;/span&gt; to cleanse themselves of the sins (read calories in alcohol) of the previous night's bender.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold; COLOR: rgb(255,0,0); FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;(the) BIN LINER TREATMENT&lt;/span&gt; : settle down, children. Pop an &lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"&gt;Adderall&lt;/span&gt; - or whatever it is you're using to ease yourself up, down or level off. Right: once upon a long ago - &lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,0,0)"&gt;when donkeys wore high hats&lt;/span&gt; - suckers on the corporate vines would receive a pat on the back and a clock come their graceful retirement at 65 or 70; they bwere then free to sit by the old two bar fire and viddy down the tick-tock of their lives.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then something happened. In London, the big bad &lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"&gt;Iron Lady&lt;/span&gt; cometh . . . and everything went strange. In actuality, things went American. And before we knew it, before tinkers had abandoned the search for &lt;a href="http://news.bbc.co.uk/onthisday/hi/dates/stories/february/9/newsid_2538000/2538595.stm"&gt;Shergar&lt;/a&gt;, poor little city types found themselves on the receiving end of the Bin Liner Treatment - with its vocal companion, &lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,0,0)"&gt;"Oi, you've got fifteen minutes to clear your desk and hop it."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And oh how we youngsters laughed at their misfortune. And now . . . now we tremble. Our snide, snarky digit salutes at the head honcho, when his back is turned and the humming lights tressed above anoint his pate, betray not the tremble of anger, scorn, or even our dearest friend - &lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,0,0)"&gt;delirium tremens&lt;/span&gt;: no, the story they tell is that of fear.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold; COLOR: rgb(255,0,0); FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;BLANG BLANG&lt;/span&gt; : when a brother points to another brother bequeathed in tiresome &lt;span style="FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;bling bling&lt;/span&gt;, then points to his own head, meaning &lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,0,0); FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;It's not what's outside, it's what's inside&lt;/span&gt;. (As spotted, and sported, oddly enough, by celebrity chav Tim Westwood.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold; COLOR: rgb(255,0,0); FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;BLOOD PUDDING&lt;/span&gt; : what you get when your daily ablutions are afflicted with stools that struggle to make it to freedom. And, small comfort though this be to the denizens of the Third World, the richer your diet the greater the struggle - or so I've been told.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because I want to, I'll digress slightly here to slip in a bit of &lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,0,0)"&gt;Salvador Dali&lt;/span&gt; - as he was a man with a fixation about the &lt;span style="FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;quality&lt;/span&gt; of his stools and other bodily secretions. Try this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,0,0)"&gt;The stool of today is of the purest ... I attribute it, without question, to my quasi absolute asceticism - and remember with repugnance ... my stools at the time of my debaucheries, when I was twenty years old and living in Madrid with Lorca and Bunuel. It was of unnameable ignominie, pestilential, discontinuous, spasmodic, splashing . . .&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Any further questions?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold; COLOR: rgb(255,0,0); FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;BO&lt;/span&gt; : taking its meaning from rhyming slang: Bo Diddley = diddly squat. So bo can mean nothing, useless, empty - generally dismissive. &lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,0,0)"&gt;"U2's new single is bo, and the album title is completely up its own arse."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold; COLOR: rgb(255,0,0); FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;BONGO-BONGO LAND&lt;/span&gt; : no, not Hackney - quite. What it is is a description of countries where tinpot dictatorships tend to flourish, and it was floated into the public realm by the late &lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"&gt;Alan Clark &lt;/span&gt;MP. A casual read of his Diaries would suggest that in his mind the term covered just about anywhere south or east of Gibraltar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold; COLOR: rgb(255,0,0); FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;BOX-HILL BEHAVIOUR&lt;/span&gt; : as slyly referred to in The Streets' &lt;span style="FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;A Grand Don't Come for Free&lt;/span&gt;, whereby he doffs his beer-stained burberry cap to the Grand Dame of English Literature, &lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"&gt;Jane Austen&lt;/span&gt;. Essentially it refers to the sorry act of belittling your social inferiors, purely for sadistic pleasure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm sure that I don't need to direct you to chapter 43 of &lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,0,0); FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;Emma&lt;/span&gt;, wherein the original incident is delicately unfolded.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Need I add that in London &lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,0,0)"&gt;the inability to complete correctly on demand the opening sentence of &lt;span style="FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;Pride and Prejudice&lt;/span&gt; often begets insolent service at bars and restaurants - or no service whatsoever&lt;/span&gt;. Furthermore, as the Streets proclaims, "No sexual favours shall come your way for free either. &lt;span style="FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;Neithe&lt;/span&gt;r." I do my bit by passing on this information to every tourist I converse with. Please feel free to do likewise.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold; COLOR: rgb(255,0,0); FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;BREAK DOWN THE BACK DOOR&lt;/span&gt; : okay, bear with me a short while ... Early doors in &lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,0,0); FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;Yellow Dog&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"&gt;Martin Amis&lt;/span&gt; riffs about the loss of pudeur in modern manners - you know the sort of thing: couples fulminating at each other right in front of you, or, somehow worse still, via their mobiles. The thing is: you become an eavesdropper against your will; and your only choice of escape is to move from where you are.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, early one evening, as I was travelling through south London by train in an almost empty carriage, there was this guy on the phone to some girl. He was highly miffed that she was planning to stay out on the piss, and the few of us in the carriage couldn't help but hear it. &lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,0,0)"&gt;One of his lines in cajolling her home early was his stated desire to "break down her back door". He continued, "After all, you didn't mind last time."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold; COLOR: rgb(255,0,0); FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;BUKKAKE&lt;/span&gt; : friends with the time and inclination to do these things tell me that this is the most popular search nowadays, when you're looking for some late afternoon (the alone at work scenario) or late night (home alone, curtains drawn) entertainment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I assume we all know what it is, so I'll just add my wish as to how it should be pronounced. I insist that for poetic effect it should rise and rise, before melismatically falling at the death (boo - car - key!) - rather like the act itself, if you see where I'm coming from, and I think all of you do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;BUMBACLOT&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; : Motherfucker. As used by Caribbeans, particularly those who wish to &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;"burn a sodomite raw".&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;See this - culled from the &lt;em&gt;Guardian&lt;/em&gt; in January 2005:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;"When I first came to Peckham we just wanted to be accepted by the West Indian community," says Posh - an acronym constructed from Paul Olufunbi Shokoya (his name) and Harrison (his mother's). He is remembering 1988, when a young Nigerian student of child psychology came to London on holiday, got a girl pregnant, and decided to stay to look after her. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;"I used to have a lot of problems back then," he continues, leading the way down into the Big Choice basement. What kind of problems? "Very violent problems. If you go into one of their pubs and you check one of their girls, you are in trouble if they know you are African. They'd go bumbaclot and all that." (Bumbaclot, the acme of Jamaican swearing, translates literally as "arsewipe". Its real meaning is more like a slow, surprised "motherfucker".)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7680312-109653373451331486?l=greatyarbles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://greatyarbles.blogspot.com/feeds/109653373451331486/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7680312&amp;postID=109653373451331486' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7680312/posts/default/109653373451331486'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7680312/posts/default/109653373451331486'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://greatyarbles.blogspot.com/2004/09/b.html' title='B'/><author><name>DD</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18003745773645030791</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7680312.post-109653686183515184</id><published>2004-09-29T10:34:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2005-01-03T15:25:05.766Z</updated><title type='text'>C</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"CAN YOU SMELL FISH?"&lt;/span&gt; : after a heavy but somewhat succesful night out, upon congregating next day for the inquest (and a usually very necessary Hair of the Dog) you may well feel the need to sniff your friend's digits and enquire aloud, "Can you smell fish? I can."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's a phrase that's entered the culture via one of Viz's &lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;Fat Slags&lt;/span&gt; animations - one in which the star turn, &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Roy Chubby Arse&lt;/span&gt; (any similarity with Roy Chubby Brown completely intended - and, I believe, approved of by the man himself) bites off more than he can chew.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Can you smell fish?" is just one of Chubby Arse's endearments to the threadbare audience; another is &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;"Drink piss do you?"&lt;/span&gt; [Woman with husband in tow in the 'front row' shakes her head vigorously] "Yessss," declares Chubby. "Come here then, cause I've got a bucketload for yer."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh yes: it's sexist talk from a disgustingly sexist act. And in real life, women lap it up. Chubby's comedy act, that is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As for his doppelganger, the late Chubby Arse will be sorely missed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;CHAIN OF JOY&lt;/span&gt; : when one macabre event has a macabre link to another macabre event, thus providing achain of joy. This example from &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Popbitch&lt;/span&gt;:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;Barry George [the murderer of BBC presenter Jill dando] posed as Barry Bulsara, Freddie Mercury's cousin. He spent the night before Princess Diana's funeral outside Westminster Abbey to get a good place and held up a &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;placard to his "Queen of Hearts" signed  "Barry Bulsara, Freddie's Cousin (RIP)".&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;CHAZBAPS&lt;/span&gt; : as referred to in this snippet from - yet again - &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Popbitch&lt;/span&gt;:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt; We thought we’d seen the last of Billie. The teenager with the double knob-gob mouth was our favourite wild child, earning the nickname Chazbaps after an alleged breast-drug incident, and generally behaving so badly that her former teacher despairingly referred to her as “a mouse on the motorway”.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt; But then she was dragged off by Chris Evans, and seemed set to spend the rest of her life sitting in the shed at the bottom of his garden, drinking beer.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt; And with reports of her marriage being over Billie should be back to enliven the blighted pages of Britain’s celeb magazines. But she can’t resist fulfilling the fantasies of older men: she’s going to be appearing as the Doctor’s assistant in the new seriesof Doctor Who.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;    (FYI: Billie was once voted most popular pin-up by the hardened criminals of Britain’s jails.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;CHEB HEAD&lt;/span&gt; : a doper, a joker, a midnight toker . . .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;CHOOT&lt;/span&gt; : one for the ladies, mostly - a conribution from our Indian community. used as in, "After he filled my choot, I wiped him clean with my &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;dupatta&lt;/span&gt;."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;CHUGGER&lt;/span&gt; : particularly annoying street beggars. See &lt;a href="http://www.wordspy.com/words/chugger.asp"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;CLOUGH CHEEKS&lt;/span&gt; : named after the frazzled doyen of English football managers,&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; Brian Clough&lt;/span&gt; née Clout. Marching hand in hand with old Cloughie's ability to turn base metal in to gold when it came to footballers, was an ability to nurse a bottle of spirits through each day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, as any old soak can testify, year after year of that leaves you with &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;corpse-candle&lt;/span&gt; cheeks. Drink a bottle of red every day for a week and you can quickly achieve a fetching miniature of said face paint.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;COCKMUNCHER&lt;/span&gt; : reputedly, this activity is practiced by at least two members of the latest British boy band, McFly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;COLON CHOKER&lt;/span&gt; : a gay, happy person, keen on gay, happy things. Personally, I prefer to (d)ream.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;LES CONS&lt;/span&gt; : don't excuse my French, because I'm not apologising. This is used by my circle to describe the new influx of Converse wearers, &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;NOT&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt; the originals: the early New York and London scenes that knew -instantly - that the Strokes were the real deal. Ah, that glorious summer of 2001 (and we all know what event ended that Eden), but like all such things . . .&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Like all such things the look has now been co-opted by effete fashionistas out in the sticks (and, sorrry to say, closer to home) who would guess that &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Fabrizio&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Moretti&lt;/span&gt; designs expensive Italian shoes, and whose just-so lifestyle contradicts every fucking instinct that the Strokes and others are about. Ready-ripped jeans!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Les Cons will all fuck off soon, but I think the Converse label will retain some of its cachet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;CORNFLAKE KNOWLEDGE&lt;/span&gt; : I plead guilty to this. Don't you too have the feeling that you know bits and pieces about lots of things (from the useful to the pointless) but that you don't possess a thorough knowledge of anything, any one area?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In short, &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;THERE IS NOTHING ABOUT WHICH I KNOW EVERYTHING&lt;/span&gt; - and it bugs the hell out of me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What is worse is the fact that there's so much more information coming at us day after day - all these little cornflakes of knowledge, just like the &lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;Did you know?&lt;/span&gt; stuff on the back of cereal packets.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;CUTE&lt;/span&gt; : throw away your dictionary definition, but retain your sexual definition . . . and then weird it out. Cute is the latest phenomenon in Japan where young women dress up as schoolgirls - because, surprise fucking surprise, it's what Japanese businessmen go for.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I kid you not: there's even a range of products so that the young damsels can perfect their "please Daddy" image. The full story is &lt;a href="http://www.lrb.co.uk/v26/n08/haus01_.html"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7680312-109653686183515184?l=greatyarbles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://greatyarbles.blogspot.com/feeds/109653686183515184/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7680312&amp;postID=109653686183515184' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7680312/posts/default/109653686183515184'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7680312/posts/default/109653686183515184'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://greatyarbles.blogspot.com/2004/09/c.html' title='C'/><author><name>DD</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18003745773645030791</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7680312.post-109248085470151188</id><published>2004-08-14T13:53:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2004-11-15T15:01:07.960Z</updated><title type='text'>D </title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(BUT) DID YOU MAKE THE POLICEMEN DANCE?&lt;/span&gt; : to be used like this: "So, you had a great night out without me . . . but, did you make the policemen dance?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's a story - an awful story? - behind this. Several years ago in the &lt;strong&gt;UDI state of&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;strong&gt;Wandsworth, south London,&lt;/strong&gt; some policemen were shot at by a car full of brothers. Only they didn't shoot directly at them, but aimed their shots at the pavement in front, thus making them 'dance' out of the way. It made the papers and everything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, there are some people out there in the &lt;strong&gt;Big Smoker&lt;/strong&gt; who think this story is a right laugh. And I, for my sins, once committed the shameful faux pas of mentioning this event to an off-duty copper at a dinner party. I did so somehwat unthinkingly, as his then heavily pregnant wife was standing next to him at the time of our little conversation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;DISTURB YOUR PARENTS&lt;/span&gt; : the story behind this is that back in the early days of Jamaican dancehall soundclashes Sir Coxone Dodd would hire some rude boys to mosh over to a rival's dancehall and scare people away . . . to his own show.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Said fuel to encourage the rude boys came in the form of a home-made rum, so wild that the addition of anything else - ice, water, soft drink - would cause vapours to rise from the base liquid. It was said this drink would cause you to "disturb your parents" ie they would not believe what this tipple had done to you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Incidentally, in the 19th century &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;disturbance&lt;/span&gt; was slang for alcohol in the USA, and - just beacuse I adore this line - in 1968 &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Mick Jagger&lt;/span&gt; proclaimed "My name is called Disturbance" in the great &lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;Street Fighting Man&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-style: italic;"&gt;DO ONE&lt;/span&gt; : as in "Are we off then?" "Yeah, let's do one."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;DON'T DROWN THE DRINK&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; : don't smother the lovely Stoli etc with too much mixer. I want to feel the &lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;whoosh&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;! Of course, this is really just a morph of "don't lose the baby with the bathwater!" (Easy uncle, it's &lt;em&gt;so easy&lt;/em&gt; to slide into tired &lt;em&gt;old&lt;/em&gt; slang.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-style: italic;"&gt;DOWN WITH IT (THAT / WHATEVER)&lt;/span&gt; : simple reverse slang ie flipping &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;up for it&lt;/span&gt;. A &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-style: italic;"&gt;fact jacked&lt;/span&gt;: it is impossible to take a &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;cappucino&lt;/span&gt; at 4pm (it's &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;rightful&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;time!&lt;/span&gt;) without uttering said phrase at some point in any conversation. And believe me, I've tried.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-style: italic;"&gt;DUFFER&lt;/span&gt; : apologies for a slight lowering of the source tone, but this phrase has been domained by the chamois-leather textured ubiquitous TV antique expert &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;David Dickinson&lt;/span&gt; - as &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-style: italic;"&gt;Alan Partridge&lt;/span&gt; would say, he's "particularly popular with students".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay: that's one use. Here's the way &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I&lt;/span&gt; use it: consulting the Bible - &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Jonathan&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Green&lt;/span&gt;'s &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 153, 0); font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;Dictionary&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;of Slang&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; - you will find:&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-style: italic;"&gt; duffer&lt;/span&gt; [1980s+] (drugs) a girl or woman who offers sex in return for drugs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You see? Sooner or later, something pops up that reminds you of college . . .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7680312-109248085470151188?l=greatyarbles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://greatyarbles.blogspot.com/feeds/109248085470151188/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7680312&amp;postID=109248085470151188' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7680312/posts/default/109248085470151188'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7680312/posts/default/109248085470151188'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://greatyarbles.blogspot.com/2004/08/d.html' title='D '/><author><name>DD</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18003745773645030791</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7680312.post-109653697134444989</id><published>2004-08-13T10:35:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2004-11-15T15:08:27.176Z</updated><title type='text'>E</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;EARLY DOORS&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; : I think I'm safe in attributing this to &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Big&lt;/span&gt; Ron Atkinson&lt;/strong&gt;, football analyser extraordinaire. He uses it to refer to the first ten, fifteen minutes of a game, but in the wider social context it's used for anyone who &lt;em&gt;goes &lt;/em&gt;or &lt;em&gt;scores&lt;/em&gt; - &lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;tops off&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt; - early of a session/evening.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By the way, you can find more of Big Ron's gems &lt;a href="http://www.dangerhere.com/"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt; - and because I fucking well can, I'll state old Ron's defining moment, when, following an especially rank performance by Marcel Desailly for Chelsea in a key Champions League game, he commented that Desailly [had become a] "lazy nigger".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-style: italic;"&gt;EMO&lt;/span&gt; : like &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-style: italic;"&gt;bo&lt;/span&gt;, an instant dismissal of something (especially a musical act or song) as shit. &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;"Keane? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;Keane&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;? They're fucking emo, they are."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Personally, I can't tell the difference between them and &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;McFly&lt;/span&gt;. Is there any?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7680312-109653697134444989?l=greatyarbles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://greatyarbles.blogspot.com/feeds/109653697134444989/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7680312&amp;postID=109653697134444989' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7680312/posts/default/109653697134444989'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7680312/posts/default/109653697134444989'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://greatyarbles.blogspot.com/2004/08/e.html' title='E'/><author><name>DD</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18003745773645030791</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7680312.post-109653702134359322</id><published>2004-08-12T10:36:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2004-09-30T10:37:01.343+01:00</updated><title type='text'>F</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-style: italic;"&gt;FACT JACKED&lt;/span&gt; : something that is incontrovertibly true. You know, something like the sexual predilections of &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Tom Cruise&lt;/span&gt;. And nothing like the rumour (filthy rumour, or a woman's sopping fantasy? Who am I to decide?) concerning &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Jude Law&lt;/span&gt; and &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Dame&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;David Beckham&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-style: italic;"&gt;FEELIN' (IT)&lt;/span&gt; : mainly as in "yeah, I'm feelin' that track - are you &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-style: italic;"&gt;down with it&lt;/span&gt;?" And sometimes used as a kind of &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;if I must act like I care&lt;/span&gt; statement of empathy. The latter use is, of course, a case of pure London yarbles.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-style: italic;"&gt;FISHED UP HIS (HER / MY) BOAT&lt;/span&gt; : to show up i.e. make an appearance. Especially if the appearence was unexpected, or something of a chore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-style: italic;"&gt;FLIPPERS&lt;/span&gt; : = feet, as in "My oh my, the &lt;a href="http://news.bbc.co.uk/sportacademy/hi/sa/swimming/features/newsid_2141000/2141173.stm"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="text-decoration: underline;"&gt;Thorpedo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt; has big flippers."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-style: italic;"&gt;FRIENDLY&lt;/span&gt; : as in "these toilets are friendly" - meaning that the set-up (lockable door, clean flat surface) is favourable for the necessary racking out of &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-style: italic;"&gt;nightfighter&lt;/span&gt; fuel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-style: italic;"&gt;FUCK OFF A MINUTE&lt;/span&gt; : dragged into distinction by &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;Bo! Selecta&lt;/span&gt; (chiefly by the &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Craiiig Daviiid&lt;/span&gt; caricature). Used to question the sanity and/or validity of what someone else has just said or done. As such, there's an often apt written abbreviation: FOAM.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7680312-109653702134359322?l=greatyarbles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://greatyarbles.blogspot.com/feeds/109653702134359322/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7680312&amp;postID=109653702134359322' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7680312/posts/default/109653702134359322'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7680312/posts/default/109653702134359322'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://greatyarbles.blogspot.com/2004/08/f.html' title='F'/><author><name>DD</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18003745773645030791</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7680312.post-109247962537848672</id><published>2004-08-11T11:29:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2005-01-21T10:49:40.500Z</updated><title type='text'>G </title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold; COLOR: rgb(255,0,0); FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(0,0,0)"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;GAY BROTHER MUSIC&lt;/span&gt; : take a look around you, it's almost always there. Right now step forward yer Coldplay's, yer Keane's and yer Snow Patrol's ... Also known as &lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold; COLOR: rgb(255,0,0); FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;Valium Rock&lt;/span&gt;. Either way, this epithet really works in &lt;span style="FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;pissing off the hordes&lt;/span&gt; who swallow this stuff &lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold; COLOR: rgb(255,0,0); FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;H, L &amp; S&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold; COLOR: rgb(255,0,0); FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;GET ON THIS&lt;/span&gt; : pay attention to this record, band etc. It'll do you good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold; COLOR: rgb(255,0,0); FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;GET THE VIOLIN(S) OUT&lt;/span&gt; : a cry uttered when someone in your circle is about to give you the sob story of their terrible day/life/childhood etc. "Hold on, hold on; get the violins out ..." Occasionally amped to "&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,0,0); FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;warm up the string quartet&lt;/span&gt;".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold; COLOR: rgb(255,0,0); FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;GIVE US A BELL&lt;/span&gt; : as in this message: "Oi, Pete Libertine, when you've sorted yourself out once and for all, give us a bell" - Carlos Libertine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;GO SUCK YOUR MAMA&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; : piss off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,0,0)"&gt;GO WITH THE BOY WHO LICKS HIS PLATE&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; : a little advice for those sweet, sweet virgin girls out there. Should you be undecided as to which lucky boy shall get to &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,0,0)"&gt;do the business&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;, follow this tried and trusted creed, which should be passed on by every mother.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tangentially - and without wishing to go all &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,0,0)"&gt;Bongo-Bongo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; about it - there are tribes in Africa for whom the "dry hump" is akin to a delicacy, highly-prized to the extent that the "juicy" wife is seen as some sort of slattern. I'm sorry, but to me such a notion is pure yarbles.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold; COLOR: rgb(255,0,0); FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;GROCKLE&lt;/span&gt; : a tourist, an outsider. Funnily enough a phrase that first turfed up in the West Country, and is now used by Londoners to scoff at visitors from places like . . . the West Country. Yes, we have no scruples.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7680312-109247962537848672?l=greatyarbles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://greatyarbles.blogspot.com/feeds/109247962537848672/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7680312&amp;postID=109247962537848672' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7680312/posts/default/109247962537848672'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7680312/posts/default/109247962537848672'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://greatyarbles.blogspot.com/2004/08/g.html' title='G '/><author><name>DD</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18003745773645030791</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7680312.post-109653717835543253</id><published>2004-08-10T10:39:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2004-10-18T00:28:33.963+01:00</updated><title type='text'>H</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-style: italic;"&gt;HARAMZADI&lt;/span&gt; : Indian for &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Bastard&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;HE'S HAD HIS CHIPS&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; : oh, it's always a &lt;em&gt;he&lt;/em&gt;. He's finished. Done with. Over. Deceased. I want nothing more to do with. As David St Hubbins once said (rashly) of Nigel Tufnell, "We shall never work together again."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-style: italic;"&gt;HIGHLY MIFFED&lt;/span&gt; : there is your simple &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-style: italic;"&gt;miffed&lt;/span&gt;, as in pissed-off about whatever, and there's this notch up to eleven.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-style: italic;"&gt;HOLD TIGHT&lt;/span&gt; : signature greeting of brothers and sisters across the pirate radio waves of London. It says hello, and it says goodbye.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-style: italic;"&gt;H, L &amp; S&lt;/span&gt; : abbrev. of Hook, Line and Sinker, and used to describe a person's gullibility. "He swallowed that H, L &amp;amp; S ... " First used by &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-style: italic;"&gt;Baker &amp; Kelly Upfront&lt;/span&gt; (aka the Two Dannies) - a football free-for-all packed with juicy anecdotes and scurrilous rumours, and quite simply the best radio sports show that I have ever heard. I fear I shall not hear its like again - but thanks to this fabulous website - &lt;a href="http://www.dannybaker.force9.co.uk/"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The Internet Treehouse&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;  - you can hear some of what you may have missed!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A sample of its mad genius? What rushes upfront in my mind is the gay man who wrote in to the show detailing his private fantasies - fantasies based around his collection of &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;Panini&lt;/span&gt; football cards of the leading stars of the day (the mid-90s). His letter went something like this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;John Spencer&lt;/span&gt; is the bit of rough from the building site, and I imagine us sharing a shower after he comes home from work, all covered in sweat. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Steve&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;McMananman&lt;/span&gt; is more the gentle, touchy-feely type, and we just cuddle up together on the bed. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Big Duncan Ferguson&lt;/span&gt; is another kettle altogether; he's very dominant and takes no nonsense and punishes me hard in the bedroom. Last but by no means least there's &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Jamie&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Redknapp&lt;/span&gt;: I have 'spares' of other players that I'm willing to swap, but I'd never swap the two I have of him. He's too precious.&lt;/blockquote&gt;If that's the kind of stuff that floats your boat (as opposed to the usual "the ref was a disgrace ... blather) then you can sense what you missed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Incidentally, both presenters now take the shilling at BBC Radio London (94.9 FM) - Danny Kelly hosting a rather more prosaic sports show than the meisterwork of old (and I'm pretty sure he's also something big and important with &lt;a href="http://www.football365.com/Home/index.shtml"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;Football365&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;); meanwhile Danny Baker has reverted to the tried and trusted (though I find it tiresome) zoo format.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;ADDENDUM&lt;/span&gt;: perhaps I was a little harsh to call Danny Kelly's latest show 'prosaic' - given that this very evening (September 6) he's been on the phone to a real Viennese quack who proscribes a drug called &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;Horny&lt;/span&gt; to various football teams; apparently England have turned down an offer of supplies while the Austrian and Polish national teams - among others - have gobbled them up. That little item was followed by a vox pop concerning who should be in goal for England: opinions being taken from customers in the &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;Blue Pirate&lt;/span&gt;, a renowned &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;sex shop in Soho&lt;/span&gt;. (Apparently, the standard 6" dildo remains &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;the&lt;/span&gt; bestseller - so guys, no need to be so fretful.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7680312-109653717835543253?l=greatyarbles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://greatyarbles.blogspot.com/feeds/109653717835543253/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7680312&amp;postID=109653717835543253' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7680312/posts/default/109653717835543253'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7680312/posts/default/109653717835543253'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://greatyarbles.blogspot.com/2004/08/h.html' title='H'/><author><name>DD</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18003745773645030791</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7680312.post-109653723091366051</id><published>2004-08-09T10:40:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2004-09-30T19:48:26.880+01:00</updated><title type='text'>I</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;I'M HERE TO TELL YOU&lt;/span&gt; : used as a way of emphasising a point, often a bit of knowledge gained from bitter experience. As a female acquaintance recently remarked to me: "I'm here to tell you that Colin Farrell is a fucking freak, because Dublin is full of mingers."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;IN BITS&lt;/span&gt; : one of too many entries for my liking that stray into footballer-speak, but it's new(ish), it's still in use, so it's in. It comes up in back (and nowadays, front) page exclusives wherein, say, one Jason Burke confesses how "the unjust stigma surrounding all of us because of the notorious 'Seven-Up' incident left me and my family in bits ..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Come to think of it surely some sensitive singer-songwriter (I know - the phrase is a hackneyed oxymoron) out there shall use it soon for a new release. Courtesy of &lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;Seven&lt;/span&gt; - and subsequently &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Evan Dando&lt;/span&gt;'s rollicking &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Six&lt;/span&gt; - we've had "Gwyneth's head in a box" so why not Coldplay &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;In Bits&lt;/span&gt;?  And the thought of that should be capable of brightening up your darkest day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;ADDENDUM&lt;/span&gt; : a day or so after entering this phrase, I read &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Vladimir Nabokov&lt;/span&gt;'s short story &lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;Scenes from the Life of a Double Monster&lt;/span&gt;. There's a point where the narrator, a conjoined twin - the brothers are wilfully paraded as freaks by their parents for beer money - remembers the pivotal moment that his 'other half' Lloyd "picked up a twig and drew a ship with three masts in the dust". Then they attempt to gain their freedom ... He's a tough ie tough to the core writer (for instance, Nabokov had no time for what he saw as the mawkishness of &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Crime and Punishment&lt;/span&gt;); the story is tough to the core too. And it had me in bits by the end.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7680312-109653723091366051?l=greatyarbles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://greatyarbles.blogspot.com/feeds/109653723091366051/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7680312&amp;postID=109653723091366051' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7680312/posts/default/109653723091366051'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7680312/posts/default/109653723091366051'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://greatyarbles.blogspot.com/2004/08/i.html' title='I'/><author><name>DD</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18003745773645030791</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7680312.post-109226695969003357</id><published>2004-08-03T01:28:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2004-12-16T12:01:49.966Z</updated><title type='text'>J </title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;JACKALS &lt;/span&gt;: out of the wonderful &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;Swingers&lt;/span&gt; movie where "you're so money and you don't know it" Mikey hands over the food ordered by Trent and Sue. "Eat that, you jackals." So, a term of affection, sometimes ... and other times not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;JUDAS&lt;/span&gt; : once yelled by some demented northern commoner at Bob Dylan during a now fabled concert in Manchester in 1966, but now flung at anyone who flies in the face of loyalty (or pretty much any other of the old moral standards).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's particularly prevalent among football fans: it's a rare weekend that sees no Judas figure returning to the club he once left, and receiving untold abuse  when he did what they would have done knowing that (a) that club were/are shite; (b) another club, usually hated rivals, offered a considerable increase in sponduliks; and (c) said new club is known to get the best &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;spit-roasts&lt;/span&gt; in town.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;See also &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;Lion Judas&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;JUICY&lt;/span&gt; : when records sound right ie on vinyl, as opposed to the dry, cured ham of most CDs. "That was &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Spoon&lt;/span&gt; by Can, original 7" - that's why it sounds so juicy."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7680312-109226695969003357?l=greatyarbles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://greatyarbles.blogspot.com/feeds/109226695969003357/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7680312&amp;postID=109226695969003357' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7680312/posts/default/109226695969003357'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7680312/posts/default/109226695969003357'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://greatyarbles.blogspot.com/2004/08/j.html' title='J '/><author><name>DD</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18003745773645030791</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7680312.post-109653835427993736</id><published>2004-08-02T10:58:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2004-09-30T10:59:14.280+01:00</updated><title type='text'>K</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-style: italic;"&gt;KIPPERS FOR BREAKFAST&lt;/span&gt; : when a lady &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;loves&lt;/span&gt; a lady, she prefers kippers for breakfast.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7680312-109653835427993736?l=greatyarbles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://greatyarbles.blogspot.com/feeds/109653835427993736/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7680312&amp;postID=109653835427993736' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7680312/posts/default/109653835427993736'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7680312/posts/default/109653835427993736'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://greatyarbles.blogspot.com/2004/08/k.html' title='K'/><author><name>DD</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18003745773645030791</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7680312.post-109653840858386552</id><published>2004-08-01T10:59:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2004-12-16T12:42:01.956Z</updated><title type='text'>L</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(A) LARGE SPLODGE OF WONGA&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; : my, oh my. As I enter this poor old Mark Thatcher is in the news (and in jail or out on bail) after falling for a supposed opportunity to &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;trouser&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; a large splodge of wonga down in &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;Bongo-Bongo land&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;. If he's half as wealthy as he claims he is (let alone the higher numbers posted by others), why he's such a &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;mug punter&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; can only be ascribed to greed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then again, his nickname at Harrow was "Thickie Mork"; of late he's been known as "Scratcher". And, if memory serves, around the time - or soon after - the Iron Lady suffered her coup d'etat her son was said to be over in the Persian Gulf harassing sundry Arab oil merchants as it was "time to pay for mumsy".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, there's no mistake about it: he's a &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;shit of the first water&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;ADDENDUM&lt;/span&gt; : Have no fear - the judgement above is beyond query. But &lt;a href="http://www.guardian.co.uk/comment/story/0,3604,1293940,00.html"&gt;this&lt;/a&gt; piece nails that the phrase was in fact used by Thickie's jailed ex-Etonian buddy.  The piece is by &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;George Monbiot&lt;/span&gt; - a real "Let me land one on" case, high up on my list. But you know how it can be: sometimes your enemy's enemy needs must become your friend - for a moment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As a means to resolving who has the right to claim &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;the title of the white Tariq Al&lt;/span&gt;i, ("No, I hate the Americans more than you do") I picture &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Mon&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;B&lt;/span&gt; and &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;John Pilger&lt;/span&gt; slugging it out over pre-prandials at the roof bar of some war-torn zone's International Hilton. I suggest they should settle it by comparing the quality of the weave of their respective cream linen &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;'TV&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;neutral'&lt;/span&gt; suits. (My wonga's on John P.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;LIBERATED&lt;/span&gt; : just as there are countless millions living under the dictatorial genocidal cosh out there in Bongo-Bongo land, so there are countless millions of €s, £s, and $s worth of consumer goods &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;begging&lt;/span&gt; to be liberated from their unbearably stuffy shop environs. You know, it would be cruel &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;not to &lt;/span&gt;. . .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-style: italic;"&gt;LICK-IT-BACK&lt;/span&gt; : or, as Craiiig Daviiid puts it on Bo! Selecta, "Can I get a rewiiind?" Used by radio DJs to effuse just how fucking awesome a particular track is. Best said quickly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;"Are you feeling it?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;"Yeah, I'm feeling it."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;"Lets' lick-it-back one mo time."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On reflection, oh dear. Appy polly loggies everybody, I've just made it sound &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;totally wank &lt;/span&gt;haven't I?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;LINE OF BEAUTY&lt;/span&gt; : Gak - after that talented queer bastard Hollinghurst.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;LION JUDAS&lt;/span&gt; : Exhibit A: &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Paul Ince&lt;/span&gt; parading on the back pages of the &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Morning Lark&lt;/span&gt; in a Man Utd top, while still being paid to play for West Ham. The original, and still the best.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;B: &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Sol Campbell&lt;/span&gt;. Is he a cockmuncher? Who knows? (This year's GCSE in Eng Lit featured this dilemma thus: "Discuss in relation to Richard III. 40% = Grade A.") But he is a Lion Judas in scurrying for glory from Spurs to the Arse.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And of course we all await C: when &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Stevie "Bricklayer's crop" Gerrard&lt;/span&gt; slinks across to Man Utd, joining his old mate &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Wayne "Mature Cheddar" Rooney&lt;/span&gt;. Rooney a Judas? Nah, he was just applying simple common sense.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-style: italic;"&gt;LOVE YOU TO BITS&lt;/span&gt; : appalling football(er)-speak used by &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-style: italic;"&gt;T &amp; E&lt;/span&gt; pissheads, professing their brotherly love. Necks are often ensnared by arms at the same time. Such talk is pure yarbles - &lt;strong&gt;at all times&lt;/strong&gt;. Don't believe a word of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;LUCKY&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; : some of us believe in the talent moat: essentially you get where you get depending on how good you are at what you do. Others ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Others feel the full, frank outrageous fortunes and misfortunes of life are too much, and pronounce that someone who's made it (meaning they've &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;coined it in&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;) is plain lucky. As in "That JK Rowling? She's &lt;em&gt;lucky&lt;/em&gt;." (The word needs to be said as if it's a swear word denoting &lt;strong&gt;disgust&lt;/strong&gt; - else, as in JK's case, it just becomes a droll statement of fact.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7680312-109653840858386552?l=greatyarbles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://greatyarbles.blogspot.com/feeds/109653840858386552/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7680312&amp;postID=109653840858386552' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7680312/posts/default/109653840858386552'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7680312/posts/default/109653840858386552'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://greatyarbles.blogspot.com/2004/08/l.html' title='L'/><author><name>DD</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18003745773645030791</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7680312.post-109226614444350679</id><published>2004-07-29T01:02:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2004-12-16T12:26:53.606Z</updated><title type='text'>M </title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MA DI CHORD &lt;/span&gt;: Indian for motherfucker.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;MAN BREASTS&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; : I confess. No, not that; I confess that this is in solely because the Word Spy link &lt;a href="http://www.wordspy.com/words/manbreasts.asp"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt; acknowledges the tribal leader: arise &lt;strong&gt;Sir George Costanza&lt;/strong&gt;. Come now, don't act like you don't know what they are . . .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;MENTAL PATIENTS&lt;/span&gt; : and still on the mammaries, apparently this term refers to a pair of weird tits. And I mean weird, not just slightly askew in size - that, dear boys, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;is&lt;/span&gt; the norm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-style: italic;"&gt;MODERATE ARABS&lt;/span&gt; : denoting a country (or group/race/breed of people) who only keep a grudge for, say, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;400 years&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-style: italic;"&gt;MONGREL HOURS&lt;/span&gt; : those dead hours of late afternoon where the move (to the bottle, my friends!) a little too early can cost you dearly. To wit: &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Sir Kingsley Amis&lt;/span&gt;' maxim that the &lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;effect&lt;/span&gt; of an amount of alcohol drunk before say, 6pm is like drinking &lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;double&lt;/span&gt; that amount &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;in one go&lt;/span&gt; at ten to six.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That said, others have flaunted this 'rule' and flourished. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;William Burroughs&lt;/span&gt;' routine was to take cocktails at 4pm each day. (Okay, so he did &lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;shoot his wife&lt;/span&gt;, but think of the work. The works!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;MOVERS &amp; SHAKERS&lt;/span&gt; : an interesting point with this one is how it's used. Among those who genuinely are movers and shakers (eg a part of the arts establishment) this is a term of mutual approbation. Back down among the &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;hoi polloi&lt;/span&gt; it's a term of contempt for the cunts who haven't got a clue what is actually any good and what stinks the place out. Hence some right &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;rank&lt;/span&gt; movies, shows, television and music.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;MUCK&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; : pure filth, rubbish. The following exchange actually took place - and I know, because I had to try to deal with it:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;"Those films you like ... "&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;"Yeah, you mean the &lt;/span&gt;&lt;em style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;Godfathers&lt;/em&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;, and &lt;/span&gt;&lt;em style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;Goodfellas&lt;/em&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;, and &lt;/span&gt;&lt;em style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;Mean Streets, &lt;/em&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;and -"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;- "Yeah, those. They're all muck. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;em style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;Muck&lt;/em&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;. The only one who makes films that are any good is Spielberg, and even he's gone off."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;MUG PUNTER &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;: well . . . you're here aren't you? Easy customers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;MUPPET&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; : an idiot (see above!); or someone incapable of doing the job they're supposed to be doing. As such, it's frequently used by men when watching England play football. In America, of late I hear it has entered the daily lexicon at Shea Stadium. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Where have you gone, Gary Carter?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7680312-109226614444350679?l=greatyarbles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://greatyarbles.blogspot.com/feeds/109226614444350679/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7680312&amp;postID=109226614444350679' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7680312/posts/default/109226614444350679'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7680312/posts/default/109226614444350679'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://greatyarbles.blogspot.com/2004/07/m.html' title='M '/><author><name>DD</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18003745773645030791</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7680312.post-109653867741104143</id><published>2004-07-28T11:04:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2004-12-16T12:12:39.146Z</updated><title type='text'>N</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;NETTO&lt;/span&gt; : almost exclusively the verbiage of &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 102, 255);"&gt;Chelsea&lt;/span&gt; fans, after the infamous demand made by then (player -) manager &lt;a href="http://members.tripod.com/LauD/profiles/Gullit/gullit.html"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Ruud Gullit&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt; that his increase in salary be netto ie the amount he &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;trousers&lt;/span&gt; after tax. So: try it on your boss next time you're in talks. Also in use as a derogotary swipe at some &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;piffling&lt;/span&gt; amount 'earned' - the full &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-style: italic;"&gt;snarky&lt;/span&gt; "Was that netto then?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-style: italic;"&gt;NEVER TRUST A MAN WITH TWO FIRST NAMES&lt;/span&gt; : okay, not strictly street argot, but a piece of infinite wisdon worth passing around. Admit it: just a little contemplation asserts its verisimilitude. Funnily enough, I first heard this said by &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Clive James&lt;/span&gt;. So it could well be a real old yarble. Should the living legend ever visit here, I say: Oi! Get off your fat arse and sort out that no-show of a website of yours. And get back to being &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;serious&lt;/span&gt;, like &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;From the Land of Shadows&lt;/span&gt;. Unreliably yours, blah blah blah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-style: italic;"&gt;NEVER TRUST A PONYTAIL&lt;/span&gt; : come on, this is a &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-style: italic;"&gt;fact jacked&lt;/span&gt;. Fucking obvious. Need I begin a list?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;"NEWS GRAVY"&lt;/span&gt; : some days, some weeks are simply slow news days; others - an air crash, a breaking political scandal, a fresh famine, 9/11 - are pure News Gravy. Legend has it that this phrase was first uttered by Michael Buerck ("My name is the name of the game") to cameraman John Slot, on the rooftop bar of the International Hilton in Addis Ababa, Ethiopia, in 1984. The rest is as they say . . . News Gravy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-style: italic;"&gt;NIGHTFIGHTER(S)&lt;/span&gt; : coined by Frank Sinatra back in the Rat Pack daze, now the currency of the Lower Thames. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Nightfighters&lt;/span&gt; literally fight the night through til dawn; often this is done with the use of &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;nightfighters&lt;/span&gt; - hey, to quote the great man himself, &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;"Whatever helps you make it through the night"&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not that ol' blue eyes was that keen on anything bar cigarettes and alcohol; still, this is a man who used to bathe his sore feet in whisky, so we should forgive him everything - even 'duetting' with Bono and desecrating the immortal &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I've Got You Under My Skin&lt;/span&gt;. (Though we should never forgive that Irish twerp for said offence, one of a long, long, long list.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-style: italic;"&gt;the NUTS&lt;/span&gt; : excellence. &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-style: italic;"&gt;The Dog's&lt;/span&gt;. A phrase popular in the city, and its current popularity may be something to do with its usage in poker. Well, you tell me.&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7680312-109653867741104143?l=greatyarbles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://greatyarbles.blogspot.com/feeds/109653867741104143/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7680312&amp;postID=109653867741104143' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7680312/posts/default/109653867741104143'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7680312/posts/default/109653867741104143'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://greatyarbles.blogspot.com/2004/07/n.html' title='N'/><author><name>DD</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18003745773645030791</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7680312.post-109653877583898376</id><published>2004-07-26T11:05:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2004-12-16T12:13:59.823Z</updated><title type='text'>O</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OFF MY FACE&lt;/span&gt; : what happens when you are a very naughty boy or girl . . . There's also &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;off my&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;head&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; . . . and now:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;(WELL) OFF MY TROLLEY&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; : pretty much ditto to &lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;off my face&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;. I think the Manc Meister &lt;strong&gt;Sir Mark E Smith&lt;/strong&gt; uses this phrase in the ditty &lt;em&gt;British People In Hot Weather&lt;/em&gt;. Nah, don't play it round Paula Radcliffe's for a while.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;OFF THE BONE&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; : a favourite in theatrical circles, I do believe. Used to describe a performance of pure ham-hammmery, completely over the top. "Oh, she's always off the bone . . . " - and that &lt;em&gt;she&lt;/em&gt; is, of course, quite often a &lt;em&gt;he&lt;/em&gt;. Where would be without them?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-style: italic;"&gt;ON A MISSION&lt;/span&gt; : as in "tonight boys, I'm really going for it - I am on a mission"; subsequent to this declaration, you often get the "look at [name], he is on a mission".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7680312-109653877583898376?l=greatyarbles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://greatyarbles.blogspot.com/feeds/109653877583898376/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7680312&amp;postID=109653877583898376' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7680312/posts/default/109653877583898376'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7680312/posts/default/109653877583898376'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://greatyarbles.blogspot.com/2004/07/o.html' title='O'/><author><name>DD</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18003745773645030791</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7680312.post-109114630716765213</id><published>2004-07-20T01:09:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2004-12-16T12:16:24.873Z</updated><title type='text'>P </title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PEARS&lt;/span&gt; : used as in "that's your day/life/season - pear-shaped". It's often a suitable touch to offer said fruit as a gift when someone else's world goes &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-style: italic;"&gt;tits&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-style: italic;"&gt;up&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-style: italic;"&gt;POLO &lt;/span&gt;: from rhyming slang, polo mint = skint (thanks to JC!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;PORCELAIN ALTAR&lt;/span&gt; : the only place I - occasionally - worship.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7680312-109114630716765213?l=greatyarbles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://greatyarbles.blogspot.com/feeds/109114630716765213/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7680312&amp;postID=109114630716765213' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7680312/posts/default/109114630716765213'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7680312/posts/default/109114630716765213'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://greatyarbles.blogspot.com/2004/07/p.html' title='P '/><author><name>DD</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18003745773645030791</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7680312.post-109653898091860350</id><published>2004-07-16T11:09:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2004-12-16T12:20:02.643Z</updated><title type='text'>R</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(THERE'S A) RANDY BULL IN THE TOP PADDOCK&lt;/span&gt; : somewhat inspired by the randy bull scene in &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Withnail &amp; I&lt;/span&gt;, this refers to (a) the effects of  a serious amount of alcohol and the donning of &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;beer goggles&lt;/span&gt;; and (b) the subsequent humdinger of a hangover.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-style: italic;"&gt;RATHER LARGE&lt;/span&gt; : we can thank &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;John Thomson&lt;/span&gt; (and, dare I admit, the filth from the &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;News of the Screws&lt;/span&gt;) for this. (See &lt;a href="http://londonyarbles.blogspot.com/"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-style: italic;"&gt;Pure London Yarbles&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;, August 23, 2004 for story.) He used it as a sign of appreciation for the lines that had just been racked out for him. And, judging by the zoom lens pic, they were indeed &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;rather&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;large&lt;/span&gt; . . . The lucky bastard.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-style: italic;"&gt;RETARDED&lt;/span&gt; : when someone or something really pisses you off, it's a fairly decent indecent way of making how you feel clear. An example from my life: "Starsailor? Starsailor? &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-style: italic;"&gt;Fuck off a minute&lt;/span&gt;. They are retarded. And &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-style: italic;"&gt;no further questions, your honour&lt;/span&gt;."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-style: italic;"&gt;RUGGER-BUGGER&lt;/span&gt; : &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;any Englishman&lt;/span&gt; who takes the game of Rugby&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; remotely &lt;/span&gt;seriously. The Welsh, Jocks and Paddies can be forgiven - they know no better, and don't have the obvious massive alternative of a ball that bounces properly. And &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I suppose one must forgive Englishwomen too&lt;/span&gt; - the fact is, football is way too graceful for their needs ie they are searching for &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;the other&lt;/span&gt; when they look upon &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;the testosterone land of sweat&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes. O yes. I speak as I find. Rugger-buggers: they tend to identify their indelible wankery by wearing their collars up. &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;What the Fuck&lt;/span&gt; is that all about?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But you know what? The awful thing, the really awful thing is...that I've met loads of said types and they are so &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;terribly terribly nice&lt;/span&gt;. And &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;almost always&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;loaded&lt;/span&gt;. And before you know it, you're supping wine out of pint glasses and finishing off each other's favourite lines from &lt;strong style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;Withnail &amp; I&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;RUSSIAN WATER&lt;/span&gt; : vodka. Drink in this moment recollected in a review of a recent gig by the living le&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;g&lt;/span&gt;end that is &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Edwyn Collins&lt;/span&gt;:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;"Collins is on beaming form: he stops songs to deliver anecdotes, offer a member of the audience 50p to safeguard his plectrum, knock the Libertines, tap-dance and sip other people's drinks. "It tastes Russian,"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Knocking the Libertines? Much as I like Edwyn's work, that's a little rich.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7680312-109653898091860350?l=greatyarbles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://greatyarbles.blogspot.com/feeds/109653898091860350/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7680312&amp;postID=109653898091860350' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7680312/posts/default/109653898091860350'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7680312/posts/default/109653898091860350'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://greatyarbles.blogspot.com/2004/07/r.html' title='R'/><author><name>DD</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18003745773645030791</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7680312.post-109110292232794061</id><published>2004-06-29T13:07:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2004-12-16T12:23:22.546Z</updated><title type='text'>S </title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SEX WEE&lt;/span&gt;: another gem courtesy of &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Bo! Selecta&lt;/span&gt;, this phrase comes up when a decent bit of bed fluff appears or is mentioned on the show. What is it? It's a sex wee. "Halle Berry, she makes me want to do a sex wee."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;SHAMPOO&lt;/span&gt; : champers, dear boys and girls.  Old hat, but here just so I can include &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Francis Bacon&lt;/span&gt;'s celebrated toast: &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;"Champagne for my real friends; real&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;pain for my sham friends."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-style: italic;"&gt;SHE DIDN'T SEEM TO MIND &lt;/span&gt;: said with heavy irony after some sensible type tells you to fuck off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-style: italic;"&gt;SHEDLOAD &lt;/span&gt;: as in "I've had a shedload tonight, baby, and I wanna &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;break down your back door&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51);"&gt;."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-style: italic;"&gt;SHE LIKES YOU&lt;/span&gt; : meaning &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;exactly&lt;/span&gt; the fucking opposite my friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;SHERBERTS&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; : drinks, as in "Fancy a few sherberts after work?" "Yeah, why not? My head's still spinning from lunch and I'm afraid more is the only known cure."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-style: italic;"&gt;SHOCKER&lt;/span&gt; : as in "I've had a shocker". A sad case of being very much the worse for wear after way too many &lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;sherberts&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;, and every known &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;booster&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; has been used up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;ADDENDUM&lt;/span&gt; : perusing the &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Encyclopedia of Sex&lt;/span&gt;, I saw this entry:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;Shocker, the (noun): t&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;he act of slipping one's middle and index finger in a woman's vagina, while simultaneously slipping the pinky into her anus in a thrusting motion. The pinky is supposedly the "shocking" part.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-style: italic;"&gt;SICK AS A PIKE&lt;/span&gt; : self-explanatory - pure yarbles, pure genius, pure &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Withnail &amp; I&lt;/span&gt;. All bow down and salute &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Bruce Robinson&lt;/span&gt;, screenwriter extraordinaire - even if a harsh mistress would call him a one-hit wonder.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;SKIING&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; : apparently this is what you're doing if you're in the (fortunate) position of wanking off two cocks at once, one in either hand. There was a recent &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Bo! Selecta&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt; sketch which had "George Michael" using just such a term to describe his LA adventures.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Though I am (like the 'dead blonde' Lady D) partial to a bit of fresh snow (oh, you don't think she was so? Well, check out &lt;strong&gt;Will&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;strong&gt;Self&lt;/strong&gt;'s banned obituary to her in &lt;em&gt;Feeding Frenzy&lt;/em&gt;) I have never been skiing. Well, not since school. And &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;no further questions&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;. &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;Issue closed&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-style: italic;"&gt;the SKINNY&lt;/span&gt; : yes, an American import. As it suggests, the skinny is the essential element(s) of any new story, fad, idea etc. Perversely in the world of show, the American experience leads one to conclude that the thinner the celebrity, the juicier the skinny. And let's face it, some of them are little more than a bag of bones.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-style: italic;"&gt;SNARKY&lt;/span&gt; : another American fetish in blog land - and elsewhere. Kinda bitchy to the max; snide with added sarcam. We shouldn't adopt it . . . but you know we will.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;SOPPING&lt;/span&gt; : it has been known for a girl on a night out to turn round and declare to a friend, "I'm sopping. Absolutely sopping wet."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-style: italic;"&gt;SPANISH MEASURES&lt;/span&gt; : when the drinks - especially spirits - are on the generous side. But also now with the corollary that the seemingly large drink is in fact watered-down, and a waste of a drink - and your dosh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;SPASTIC&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; : very un-PC, and very &lt;strong&gt;Alan Clark&lt;/strong&gt;. Meaning a useless, pathetic person or idea. As AC had a habit of putting it about: "Why's that spastic in charge of Defence? He hasn't got a fucking clue."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-style: italic;"&gt;SPAZZ&lt;/span&gt; : yes, I confess, there is something of the old school playground in this yarble. But my argument is that the term was resuscitated somewhat by &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Lars Von Trier&lt;/span&gt;'s wonderful &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Idiots&lt;/span&gt;, where a commune "spazzes up" to reveal society's queasy patronage towards the disabled - oops, differently abled.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I also like to use &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;spazzy&lt;/span&gt; to descibe how someone/something goes tits up - or as TV legend has it, the talent "&lt;a href="http://www.jumptheshark.com/"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;jumps the shark&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;". Examples? When someone like Bob Dylan - or earlier, Evelyn Waugh - gets religion big time . . . and it's bye bye wit with a jaunty eye for a while or for ever (i.e. what the fuckers are &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;really&lt;/span&gt; good at), as the worlds needs putting right . . .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And let's not deny the base, the coarse sense: to wit the Daily Mirror's current insistence on a two dot (&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;. .)&lt;/span&gt; ellipsis as opposed to the traditional &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;. . .&lt;/span&gt; Well, that's pure spazzery, and no mistake.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;STRAWBERRIES&lt;/span&gt; : oh when the sun is out and the fruit is ripe . . . Hmmm. Well, hmmm. They're teen tits. Tits on a teen. Strawberries. And who doesn't adore strawberries? I've also seen them referred to as "strawberry tops". Okay then, for an example (and what an example) click &lt;a href="http://www.eroticprints.org/hegreluba.asp"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt; you jackals. Oh, what the hell, you may as well click &lt;a href="http://freeadultpictures4you.com/ha/017/bigtit-european-babe23.html"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt; too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-style: italic;"&gt;SWIMMERS&lt;/span&gt; : shaven heads, and all that follows in the wash. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Update&lt;/span&gt;: as a little added bonus, I hear - from someone who knows someone who &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;knows&lt;/span&gt; - that the darling of Australian sports &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Ian Thorpe&lt;/span&gt; (the&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Thorpedo&lt;/span&gt;) is a swimmer all the way down the fucking line. Apparently, his close friends address him as Muriel. Or, jack this: he speaks good French, and he gives good French.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PS: Actually, as I rip this entry, the Olympics are on, so &lt;a href="http://news.bbc.co.uk/sportacademy/hi/sa/swimming/features/newsid_2141000/2141173.stm"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;here &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;are the &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Thorpedo&lt;/span&gt;'s tips for the trip. BTW, his feet size is&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; 17&lt;/span&gt; - yes, seventeen - and you know what they say about a guy with big &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-style: italic;"&gt;flippers&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7680312-109110292232794061?l=greatyarbles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://greatyarbles.blogspot.com/feeds/109110292232794061/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7680312&amp;postID=109110292232794061' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7680312/posts/default/109110292232794061'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7680312/posts/default/109110292232794061'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://greatyarbles.blogspot.com/2004/06/s.html' title='S '/><author><name>DD</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18003745773645030791</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7680312.post-109653916777631725</id><published>2004-06-25T11:12:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2004-12-16T12:11:24.413Z</updated><title type='text'>T</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;TAKING THE SHILLING&lt;/span&gt; : classic examples abound of a once great, possibly even still great, or a coulda shoulda been great talent bending over (metaphorically) for big bucks. And never mind the stench. Basically we're talking&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; Marlon Brando &lt;/span&gt;after &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Godafther&lt;/span&gt;. But it applies to lesser lights too. Right now, for instance, there's Joely Richardson scrubbing up in &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Nip/Tuck&lt;/span&gt;. In her case, I guess we can say that she's &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-style: italic;"&gt;kissing the Benjamins&lt;/span&gt; . . .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;THALIDOMIDE&lt;/span&gt; : used when folding a crap hand at cards. "I'm out. Thalidomide."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-style: italic;"&gt;THRAPPING THE BEAN&lt;/span&gt; : as in "What you been doing all day then, girl?" "I've been thrapping the bean . . . until I hit the &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-style: italic;"&gt;wank wall&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-style: italic;"&gt;T &amp; E&lt;/span&gt; : tired and emotional. Usually drink is involved. Scratch that: drink is &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;always&lt;/span&gt; involved.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-style: italic;"&gt;TITS UP&lt;/span&gt; : when everything goes wrong.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-style: italic;"&gt;TITTY TOUGH&lt;/span&gt; : we're talking hard luck, baby. Deal with it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;TOO MUCH INFORMATION&lt;/span&gt; : as in "No, it's okay, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Your Royal Highness&lt;/span&gt;, I have no further interest in how much &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;blood pudding&lt;/span&gt; scuttled its way down into oblivion this morning."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-style: italic;"&gt;TOP BANANA&lt;/span&gt; : kind of old hat now, a little soiled by overuse, but still around. The thing is, you never get called a top banana by anybody who is your top banana. That's the way it is, baby. But I still prefer - much prefer - it to the tired and emotional football speak of &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-style: italic;"&gt;love you to bits&lt;/span&gt;. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;That&lt;/span&gt; fucker really has to go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;TOXIC BACHELOR&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; : another entry gleaned from &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Word Spy&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;. I dithered some before slipping it in, as I'm not sure this phrase has ever taken off here in the Holy Smoke. I mean, do you know one who isn't &lt;em&gt;one&lt;/em&gt;? 'Toxic' is redundant - at least in my circs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-style: italic;"&gt;TROUSERED&lt;/span&gt; : A bunch of crisp ones. "Thank you very much, that'll do me. Trousered." Also, one must be careful, as &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;trousered &lt;/span&gt;can also mean pissed, and &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;the old trouser&lt;/span&gt; is the old fellow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-style: italic;"&gt;TURN UP THE BOOSTERS&lt;/span&gt; : when you're dead, and you're only halfway through the typical weekend marathon of excess, there's only one thing to do to make it through: turn up those boosters!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;TWINK(S)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; : a fresh young thing, just like my &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;latest twinks&lt;/span&gt; over in &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;a href="http://londonyarbles.blogspot.com/"&gt;Pure London Yarbles&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;. If you haven't been there, go there at once! Otherwise, back in boring old real life it's a &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;fact jacked&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; that twinks are awfully fond of wearing &lt;strong&gt;Abercrombie &amp; Fitch&lt;/strong&gt;, and hanging out in an A&amp;amp;F store.* And you should see what they like to do to each new A&amp;F catalogue . . .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Of course, at present London is bereft - positively bereft - of an A&amp;amp;F heaven. Still, a catalogue is just a few online clicks away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;TWONK&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; : an idiot, a wanker of the first water.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-style: italic;"&gt;TWUNT&lt;/span&gt; : a nifty little convergence of &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;twat&lt;/span&gt; and &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;cunt&lt;/span&gt; which allows you to rest the 'c' word that still seems just little bit too aggressive for public use - or is that just my oversensitive ears? Indeed, am I being a twunt?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7680312-109653916777631725?l=greatyarbles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://greatyarbles.blogspot.com/feeds/109653916777631725/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7680312&amp;postID=109653916777631725' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7680312/posts/default/109653916777631725'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7680312/posts/default/109653916777631725'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://greatyarbles.blogspot.com/2004/06/t.html' title='T'/><author><name>DD</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18003745773645030791</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7680312.post-109079812190728885</id><published>2004-05-26T01:28:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2004-12-16T12:31:49.230Z</updated><title type='text'>V </title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;VALIUM ROCK&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt; : see also &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;Gay Brother Music&lt;/span&gt;. Step forward the whole "Quiet Is The New Loud" schmoovement of 2000-01 that was blown out of the water by the glorious double whammy of the &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;White Stripes&lt;/span&gt; and the &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Strokes&lt;/span&gt;. However, remnants have survived, and some might say that the biggest bands in the world are &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;VR&lt;/span&gt;. Don't be alarmed: such taste is not an STD - yet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I should add that in London there is the corollary factor of Valium FM - a term coined by &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Jonathan King&lt;/span&gt; after he first heard the then new Virgin radio service. Now this term applies with ease not only to Virgin but to vast swathes of the airwaves. Daytime radio? There's Robert "&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Dutch&lt;/span&gt;"  Elms on Radio London 94.9FM (noon till three) - and that's it. The rest is pure yarbles.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course, I'm pretty sure that none of these stations have realised that they are living on borrowed time; soon the whole idea of a mass of people listening to the same thing at the same time shall disappear for ever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;ADDENDUM&lt;/span&gt; : there's a self-styled "rawk chick" at my shoulder telling me that &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Eric Matthews&lt;/span&gt; is VR or GBM. No he is not. He &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;is&lt;/span&gt; the brother I never had. This will cost me: she is not fixing her hair, she's taking off her belt . . .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7680312-109079812190728885?l=greatyarbles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://greatyarbles.blogspot.com/feeds/109079812190728885/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7680312&amp;postID=109079812190728885' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7680312/posts/default/109079812190728885'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7680312/posts/default/109079812190728885'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://greatyarbles.blogspot.com/2004/05/v.html' title='V '/><author><name>DD</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18003745773645030791</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7680312.post-109653931711582915</id><published>2004-05-21T11:14:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2005-01-06T15:05:24.610Z</updated><title type='text'>W</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the WANK WALL&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;: well boys and girls, one can only have fun for so long before one hits the wank wall. First mentioned on Bo! Selecta, the 'wall' is said to be &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;seven&lt;/span&gt;. Fairly recently, Will "entertainer of the year" Young cited an ambition to - ahem - &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;beat&lt;/span&gt; his own personal best of six in one day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, I'm here to tell you that &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Coathanger face&lt;/span&gt; Will just wasn't trying . . .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;WHAT GOES ON TOUR STAYS ON TOUR&lt;/span&gt; : a simple and obvious mantra, mainly but not exclusively for gentleman. Ladies reading this will either guffaw - or go all coy, but I've seen the alchemy of a &lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;shedload&lt;/span&gt; of booze so, so many times.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is a moral code, and the moral here is this: essentially, what you don't know doesn't hurt you. For example, what good will it really do your prospective wife to hear the tale of how you &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;snorted lines of coke off a Czech whore's tits&lt;/span&gt;?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Incidentally, for those who want to be in the know, Prague was last year (&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;so&lt;/span&gt; last year), Budapest was this, and next year the &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;toxic hordes&lt;/span&gt; give the fringe benefits of their new found wealth to  &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Tallinn&lt;/span&gt; and &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Riga&lt;/span&gt;. How anyone can claim that we British are anti-Europe is beyond me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;WHEELS&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; : your wheels, your motor, your car. Here we spin them, over in San Francisco I hear they have to 'curb' them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-style: italic;"&gt;WIFEBEATER &lt;/span&gt;: a way of life. Simply opting for &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;Stella&lt;/span&gt;: "What are you having?" "Oh, a Wifebeater, please." I suppose I should explain the why: because of its staunch 5% alcohol level, drinking several &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Stella&lt;/span&gt;s in a row will lend oneself to going home and beating up the missus.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Its synonomous with Stella alone, even though, as we all know, there are several 'strong' 5%+ lagers out there. And I should add that there is a Real Ale equivalent of Stella: &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;Chapman's Peculiar&lt;/span&gt;. Then again, that little bit of info may well be . . . pure yarbles.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;the WORLD OF SHOW&lt;/span&gt; : wherein so, so many of the nefarious activities adumbrated within this site take place. And I think I can quote the line from &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;Penny Lane&lt;/span&gt; (one half of the greatest AA single of all time, people) as it applies to all Londoners (and I'd argue that &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;New Yorkers&lt;/span&gt; and &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;Berliners&lt;/span&gt; complete the exclusive trinity):&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;" . . . She feels as if she's in a play&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;She is anyway"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7680312-109653931711582915?l=greatyarbles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://greatyarbles.blogspot.com/feeds/109653931711582915/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7680312&amp;postID=109653931711582915' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7680312/posts/default/109653931711582915'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7680312/posts/default/109653931711582915'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://greatyarbles.blogspot.com/2004/05/w.html' title='W'/><author><name>DD</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18003745773645030791</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7680312.post-109653936297242279</id><published>2004-05-18T11:15:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2004-12-16T12:35:58.300Z</updated><title type='text'>Y</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-style: italic;"&gt;YARBLES&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt; : bollocks. This and a whole caboodle of other steals from Anthony Burgess' &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 153, 0); font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" &gt;Clockwork Orange&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt; are available &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a style="font-family: verdana;" href="http://www.clockworkorange.com/nadsat.shtml/"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;here&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;. Burgess himself was one of the last of the famous international polymaths - and a great thieving magpie in his own write.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-style: italic;"&gt;YOU'RE A STAR&lt;/span&gt; : as in "Your behaviour has been totally spiffing . . . You really are a true friend."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Obviously somewhat superfluous if you actually &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;are&lt;/span&gt; a star. Yet another instance of how such benighted lives must be very, very confusing. Maybe this is one reason why Rachel "&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I am not watered-down &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Goldfrapp&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;" Stevens cannot find 'true love'. Or maybe this is Max "I do it all for my beloved crippled child" Clifford doing his finest to convince us that she's straight, when all along she prefers &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;kippers for breakfast&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7680312-109653936297242279?l=greatyarbles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://greatyarbles.blogspot.com/feeds/109653936297242279/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7680312&amp;postID=109653936297242279' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7680312/posts/default/109653936297242279'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7680312/posts/default/109653936297242279'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://greatyarbles.blogspot.com/2004/05/y.html' title='Y'/><author><name>DD</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18003745773645030791</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7680312.post-109653940654706075</id><published>2004-05-01T11:16:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2004-12-16T12:39:31.450Z</updated><title type='text'>Z</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ZUCCHINI GIRL&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt; : used as in "She's a bit partial to zucchini . . . " meaning some educated metropolitan sort who likes to potter around her &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:verdana;" &gt;kitchen&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt; of an evening. Yes: &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;that&lt;/span&gt; kitchen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You see a chick in a supermarket with a bottle of wine/vodka etc and some packed-fresh zucchini at the checkout? Yes? Have a guess how she's relaxing &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;as soon as she gets home&lt;/span&gt; . . .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And there are of course plenty of &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-style: italic;"&gt;Zucchini Boys&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Completely made up? Possibly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7680312-109653940654706075?l=greatyarbles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://greatyarbles.blogspot.com/feeds/109653940654706075/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7680312&amp;postID=109653940654706075' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7680312/posts/default/109653940654706075'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7680312/posts/default/109653940654706075'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://greatyarbles.blogspot.com/2004/05/z.html' title='Z'/><author><name>DD</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18003745773645030791</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
