Pensitivity101 says that the following are all birds, but asks, if you didn’t know that, what would you say these words meant? At her behest, I’m going to fib my heart out, and publish my answers here.
Me! – And my League of Extraordinary Older-Gentlemen Grumps. Apparently there are no young coots. You gotta be old, to be a coot. Sean Connery was our Honorary Chairman, until he passed on, to that great Oatmeal Bowl in the sky.
That’s the name of the firm of Solicitors who constantly telephone, and send threatening letters, to get people to make monthly payments on their car-loans and mortgages.
Hobby is the non-productive expenditure of free time and energy. The hobby of the people at Hobby Lobby is harassing and abridging the civil rights of those who they feel don’t have the correct sexual orientation.
Knot is a euphemism for getting married – tying the knot. For serial offenders like Mickey Rooney, Liz Taylor, and Larry King, it’s a slip-knot. 😳
Ruff is Dennis the Menace’s cartoon canine companion – the more intelligent, less destructive and irksome of the pair.
This is an evil, online commercial deed, performed by a nefarious net-villain. Every time I want to attend a concert by Jethro Tull, The Moody Blues, ELO, or Billy Joel, some guy with a refurbished NASA computer, and a power source about equal to a small sun, temporarily suspends his Bitcoin mining operation, swoops in and scoops up all the good seats, and then offers them online for 5 to 10 times their original cost.
That’s the cultured fluid that ethical, educated, intelligent medical researchers use to make COVID19 and variants protective vaccines from. It’s the same stuff that nutty conspiracy-theorists, who watched the science Fiction movie, The Fantastic Voyage, believe that Bill Gates (or anyone else) cares enough about them to add tiny little machines to track them with.
It’s all the fault of the good, warm English ale. An American tourist stole a street sign from outside the East-End, Brantley Mews. The Roads Maintenance Department sent out a two-man team to replace it. Since they arrived near lunch-time, and the Anvil and Turtle Pub was just outside, they had some cottage pie…. and six or seven jars of beer. Somehow, when the sign went up, it read SMEW, instead of MEWS. They had to send out two teetotalers to set things right.
That was the bitch witch at my last job that I set a record with – worked with her for 14 years, and not once did I give her a well-deserved smack in the head. We called her Princess, which she took to be a compliment. She was the Princess with the pea, constantly carping about every little thing.
We were working on the wrong project, and if we were on the right one, we were using the wrong procedures, and if we were using the right methods, we were on the wrong schedule. The only person she never complained about, was the office manager, and she followed him around like Mary’s little lamb. Smooch, smooch, kiss, kiss!! The difference between a brown-noser and a shithead – is depth perception.
There are too many Brits who wouldn’t say Shit if they had a mouthful. They say Shite, and pretend that they didn’t use profanity. I can only presume that an irritating, irksome goofball is called a Twite, instead of a Twit.