Rhyme and No Reason!

Blogger, author and rhymester who likes to find the humour in life.

Wacky Word Wednesday — March 23, 2016

Wacky Word Wednesday

boaster, blaggart,
Look who came up in my search! If the cap fits…… Courtesy of Wikimedia

Well, here we are, Wednesday again and ready to dig up and dust off a weird, wacky or wonderful word to share with you. Now, I have been a bit naughty this week (no, that THAT kind of naughty), and nicked a word from my lovely friend David. I have to admit to not having heard of this word before, so I shall be educating myself, as well as hopefully introducing some of you to a new word too!

Blatherskite.  Well, this is a babbling and blubbering kind of a word. The kind of gobshite that talks a load of gibberish, but loves the sound of their own voice! The blusterer  and boaster, pontificating and prattling on despite the snores and groans from the unfortunate listeners!

This talking a load of twaddle, nattering on about nonsense, uttering unintelligibly, or even gabbling a load of gobbledegook! Sounds like me when I get nervous!

Wacky Word Wednesday — October 28, 2015

Wacky Word Wednesday

It’s Wednesday already and time to time to unearth another little-used word, dust it off and give breathe new life into it. The word I have for you today was made popular by Princess Anne, of all people. As some of you may know, the Queen’s only daughter can be rather feisty and grumpy, and takes after her father for not giving a toss about what people think of her!  So here is that delightful word.

Naff. For its first meaning, this word is followed by ‘off!’ It is a wonderful substitute for the ‘f-word’ when in polite company (if it’s good enough for the Royals….) It conveys annoyance at cheeky journalists snapping less than flattering pictures or invading one’s privacy. Pretty much any time someone or something gets on your nerves, this word helps to express the outrage felt!

Now for the other meaning, it is unstylish, useless, shoddy and second-rate. It is the mullet hairdo, or the cheesy pop album; a blast from the past that was pretty crappy first time around!  It is getting short-changed, diddled, scammed, and ripped off, by some shady character. Clashing colours, substandard service, embarrassing in-laws, anything that is a bit below par really. Something I know I am guilty of being.

Episode 77: Another Little Bit of Dirt Never Killed Anybody… — December 16, 2014

Episode 77: Another Little Bit of Dirt Never Killed Anybody…

Further the post I wrote in Episode 64, my younger sister reminded me of a story that I had forgotten to include, and although it is pretty stomach-churning, it did make me laugh so here it is….

Mum had made a corned-beef hash, which although we didn’t have very often we were looking forward to. Anyway she had left it to cool off on the worktop for a little while. As she was about to dish up she suddenly screeched,

“Where’s me teeth”? She had this little plastic plate with 4 or 5 false teeth on which she used to take out now and again when they started to chafe, and they would sit on the table or window sill, wrapped in a tissue until she needed them to eat! My sister and I searched the kitchen without success, We couldn’t understand where they had gone As a last resort we decided to check the corned-beef hash, as it was not unusual for a bit of fag ash to land up in the food so why not a denture!

As it happened, the teeth were not in the hash, but the obligatory ants were! Yes, they had found their way into the hash that had been left uncovered, and had dived on in! Yuk! That was yet another meal that had no takers, fussy as we all were! Oh, and Mum’s teeth turned up in the kitchen rubbish bin! As a last resort we went through it, and there they were in a soggy filthy tissue, buried beneath tea bags, potato peelings and other assorted nasties. Mum was thrilled, a quick rinse under the tap, and she popped them back into place!

My nephew when he was young, also shared my mum’s casual attitude to dirt and used to love grubbing about in the mud as most kids do, However he liked to pick up slugs and worms as I think he liked their slimy feel. He wanted to share his treasures with the rest of us and would very often come up with us, hand outstretched grasping a writhing creature and say,

” Lug!”  he hadn’t mastered how to pronounce his S’s yet, bless him. Myself and my sisters would recoil when he brought the slugs to us for inspection, and would try to swallow the scream, force a smile and tell him how lovely it was. He would amuse himself for some time playing in the dirt, making mud pies, and decorating them with the slugs and worms, singing away happily.

After a while he came up to us again

“Lug!” Only this time there was only a little bit of slug in this podgy little hand; not only that but he looked a bit mucky around the mouth. Yep, he had decided to taste his mud pies, but must have found them rather filling as he couldn’t manage a whole slug! It’s nice to know he has inherited the strong family constitution!

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