Although most people from Joburg are likely to call you their ‘china’, not many of them know that that the term comes from the cockney slang, ‘china plate’, which translates to ‘mate’.
When my mother-in-law visited from England she often encouraged me to have a “butcher’s” at something or other; butcher’s – butcher’s hook – look.
Further investigation led me to watching the entire box-set of Only Fools and Horses, with the inimitable Delboy saying things like, “The old dog’s knackered!” and “You’ve got a right rash on your boat race!”
So now, for no reason other than it makes my wife laugh, I share my first rhyming slang lesson with you.
LESSON #1: DOWN THE PUB
“Let’s swing by the Battle for a Gary!”
Battle Cruiser – Boozer
Gary Glitter – Bitter
“I’ll get the drinks, you grab us a lion’s and we can have a bowler.”
Lion’s Lair – Chair
Bowler Hat - Chat
“I’ll have an Ari of Nelson…”
Nelson Mandela – Stella (Artois)
Aristotle – Bottle
“…and my fruit wants a Winona.”
Fruit Gum – Chum
Winona Ryder – Cider
“Ooh, have a butcher’s at the Bristols on that twist!”
Butcher’s Hook – Look
Bristol Cities – Titties
Twist and Twirl – girl
“Oi, that’s my bricks ‘n mortar!”
Bricks and Mortar – Daughter
“That guy with her looks a right doctor.”
Doctor Dre – Gay
“Nah, he’s a Julius.”
Julius Caesar – Geezer
“Just the one for me, the wife’s Pope and babbling a Ruby tonight.”
Pope in Rome – Home
Babbling Brook – Cook
Ruby Murray – Curry
“No worries, I’m off to the Rick for a gypsey’s.”
Rick Whitter – Shitter
Gypsey’s Kiss – Piss
“Great. You grab the Jack. I haven’t got a sausage.”
Jack and Jill – Bill
Sausage and Mash – Cash
That should be enough to get you started. Now, I’m off to the pub with the trouble.
Way of the Weekend Warrior
When Saturday comes round there always seems to be a surplus of faux Hell’s Angels – fully clad in leather jackets, potty helmets and chaps.
They cruise the highways in large groups, snarling at little children and giving the finger to old people. They'll tell you their name is Sammy Sawtooth or Ted the Decapitator. They'll get boozy and pinch waitress's bums.
These men (and their obligatory ‘old ladies’) are examples of the rather sad Weekend Warrior.
CHAPS IN CHAPS!
The guys on Harley hogs and Japanese superbikes are merely moonlighting.
From Monday to Friday they are mild mannered accountants and lawyers – but when the working week is over the banker becomes the bad-ass, and the dentist becomes the demon.
You can almost see them on a Saturday morning bringing the wife tea and a rusk in bed, and then sneaking off to the hidden room behind the decoupage workbench in the garage.
This room is their Batcave – containing a fake beard, leather-jacket-with-sleeveless-denim-jacket-on-top, and the complete Steven Seagal collection on Blu-Ray. They suit up solemnly and hit the streets… no doubt with a ZZ Top tune playing in their head.
SAD-O OR SUPERHERO?
We all know that Clark Kent’s milksop was the hardcore Superman. And playboy fop Bruce Wayne was really a cover for his nightly pursuits as Batman. So the only imaginable motivation for these sad-o’s would be a deeply buried desire to be a man of mystery.
That explains the denim over leather – didn’t the man of Steel and Dark Knight wear their undies on top of their trousers? And the fake beard would hide their visage in case they came across Betty from the marketing department.
I’m sure some of their colleagues from work join them on their weekend rampage, but these activities are kept hidden from the boringly average ‘citizens’.
The first rule of Superhero Bike Club is: you don’t talk about Superhero Bike Club.
YOU CAN DO IT TOO!
If you can’t afford a Harley, don’t be discouraged. We can all indulge in childhood fantasies.
I once met a guy who donned a top hat and tails and performed magic tricks in his spare time. A friend of mine knew a guy who dressed up in a ninja suit at night and climbed buildings. True fact.
The women of the Beaufort West Scrabble Society dropped their doilies when I thumped their champion with ‘xylophone’ on a Triple Word Score to win – little did they know that I was mentored by the most cutthroat and diabolical Scrabble player of the 20th Century: my mum.
We all hide secret lives – be they ninja surmounter, Scrabble hustler or hog rider – and these lives are the red cape beneath our dinner jacket... so please don't laugh.
They cruise the highways in large groups, snarling at little children and giving the finger to old people. They'll tell you their name is Sammy Sawtooth or Ted the Decapitator. They'll get boozy and pinch waitress's bums.
These men (and their obligatory ‘old ladies’) are examples of the rather sad Weekend Warrior.
CHAPS IN CHAPS!
The guys on Harley hogs and Japanese superbikes are merely moonlighting.
From Monday to Friday they are mild mannered accountants and lawyers – but when the working week is over the banker becomes the bad-ass, and the dentist becomes the demon.
You can almost see them on a Saturday morning bringing the wife tea and a rusk in bed, and then sneaking off to the hidden room behind the decoupage workbench in the garage.
This room is their Batcave – containing a fake beard, leather-jacket-with-sleeveless-denim-jacket-on-top, and the complete Steven Seagal collection on Blu-Ray. They suit up solemnly and hit the streets… no doubt with a ZZ Top tune playing in their head.
SAD-O OR SUPERHERO?
We all know that Clark Kent’s milksop was the hardcore Superman. And playboy fop Bruce Wayne was really a cover for his nightly pursuits as Batman. So the only imaginable motivation for these sad-o’s would be a deeply buried desire to be a man of mystery.
That explains the denim over leather – didn’t the man of Steel and Dark Knight wear their undies on top of their trousers? And the fake beard would hide their visage in case they came across Betty from the marketing department.
I’m sure some of their colleagues from work join them on their weekend rampage, but these activities are kept hidden from the boringly average ‘citizens’.
The first rule of Superhero Bike Club is: you don’t talk about Superhero Bike Club.
YOU CAN DO IT TOO!
If you can’t afford a Harley, don’t be discouraged. We can all indulge in childhood fantasies.
I once met a guy who donned a top hat and tails and performed magic tricks in his spare time. A friend of mine knew a guy who dressed up in a ninja suit at night and climbed buildings. True fact.
The women of the Beaufort West Scrabble Society dropped their doilies when I thumped their champion with ‘xylophone’ on a Triple Word Score to win – little did they know that I was mentored by the most cutthroat and diabolical Scrabble player of the 20th Century: my mum.
We all hide secret lives – be they ninja surmounter, Scrabble hustler or hog rider – and these lives are the red cape beneath our dinner jacket... so please don't laugh.
How Sue Sylvester C's It!
Too many of my friends refuse to watch the telly show Glee because they fear that liking it might make them question their sexuality. My wife and I bang on about it so much someone remarked that we sound like freshly brainwashed Christians.
I’m not sure what it is about Glee – the singing, the slushies-in-the-face, but one thing that stands out is the heinous, Machiavellian monster that is Sue Sylvester.
So in an attempt to convert my too-macho-for-their-own-good mates, I’ve compiled fifteen of the most despicable Sue Sylvester quotes from the first season of Glee.
In her own words: “You are about to board the Sue Sylvester Express. Destination: Horror!”
1. “You know, for me, trophies are like herpes. You try to get rid of them, but they keep coming. You know why? Sue Sylvester has hourly flare-ups of burning, itchy, highly contagious talent.”
2. “I've never wanted kids... don't have the time, don't have the uterus.”
3. "You know what, I checked out of our conversation about a minute back, so good luck with your troubles, and I'm gonna make it a habit not to stop and talk to students because this has been a colossal waste of my time."
4. “You have all the sexuality of all those pandas down at the zoo who refuse to mate."
5. "I'm reasonably confident that you will be adding revenge to the long list of things you're no good at, right next to being married, running a high school glee club, and finding a hair style that doesn't make you look like a lesbian.”
6. “I thought I smelled cookies wafting from the ovens of the little elves who live in your hair.”
7. "I will go to the animal shelter and get you a kitty cat. I will let you fall in love with that kitty cat. And then on some dark cold night, I will steal away into your house and punch you in the face."
8. “Your delusions of persecution are a tell-tale sign of early stage paranoid schizophrenia.”
9. “I'm having a really difficult time hearing anything you have to say today because your hair looks like a briar patch. I keep expecting racist, animated Disney characters to pop up and start singing songs about living on the bayou.”
10. "Every time I try to destroy that clutch of scab-eating mouth-breathers, it only comes back stronger, like some sexually ambiguous horror villain."
11. “I am engorged with venom and triumph.”
12. "I, for one, think intimacy has no place in marriage. I walked in on my parents once and it was like seeing two walruses wrestling."
13. “Boy, the only thing missing from this place is a couple dozen bodies – limed and rotting in shallow graves under the floorboards.”
14. “Oh I will bring it, William. You know what else I'm gonna to bring? I'm gonna bring some Asian cookery to wipe your head with. Cause right now you've got enough product in your hair to season a wok.”
15. “Your resentment... is delicious.”
And that’s how Sue… C’s it!
I’m not sure what it is about Glee – the singing, the slushies-in-the-face, but one thing that stands out is the heinous, Machiavellian monster that is Sue Sylvester.
So in an attempt to convert my too-macho-for-their-own-good mates, I’ve compiled fifteen of the most despicable Sue Sylvester quotes from the first season of Glee.
In her own words: “You are about to board the Sue Sylvester Express. Destination: Horror!”
1. “You know, for me, trophies are like herpes. You try to get rid of them, but they keep coming. You know why? Sue Sylvester has hourly flare-ups of burning, itchy, highly contagious talent.”
2. “I've never wanted kids... don't have the time, don't have the uterus.”
3. "You know what, I checked out of our conversation about a minute back, so good luck with your troubles, and I'm gonna make it a habit not to stop and talk to students because this has been a colossal waste of my time."
4. “You have all the sexuality of all those pandas down at the zoo who refuse to mate."
5. "I'm reasonably confident that you will be adding revenge to the long list of things you're no good at, right next to being married, running a high school glee club, and finding a hair style that doesn't make you look like a lesbian.”
6. “I thought I smelled cookies wafting from the ovens of the little elves who live in your hair.”
7. "I will go to the animal shelter and get you a kitty cat. I will let you fall in love with that kitty cat. And then on some dark cold night, I will steal away into your house and punch you in the face."
8. “Your delusions of persecution are a tell-tale sign of early stage paranoid schizophrenia.”
9. “I'm having a really difficult time hearing anything you have to say today because your hair looks like a briar patch. I keep expecting racist, animated Disney characters to pop up and start singing songs about living on the bayou.”
10. "Every time I try to destroy that clutch of scab-eating mouth-breathers, it only comes back stronger, like some sexually ambiguous horror villain."
11. “I am engorged with venom and triumph.”
12. "I, for one, think intimacy has no place in marriage. I walked in on my parents once and it was like seeing two walruses wrestling."
13. “Boy, the only thing missing from this place is a couple dozen bodies – limed and rotting in shallow graves under the floorboards.”
14. “Oh I will bring it, William. You know what else I'm gonna to bring? I'm gonna bring some Asian cookery to wipe your head with. Cause right now you've got enough product in your hair to season a wok.”
15. “Your resentment... is delicious.”
And that’s how Sue… C’s it!
Snort-A-Tan with Ubertan!
The one and only time I was offered cocaine elicited a personal rule that maybe more people should adopt.
My response to the question was, “The only thing I stick up my nose is my finger.”
It seems logical to me that of all the male body’s orifices, there are three that should be used solely for substance expulsion – one of them is the nasal cavity.
Maybe this fairly straightforward rule should be taught in biology classes throughout the UK, because the Daily Mail reports that “hordes of young women” have been buying and snorting Ubertan – “It’s estimated that British users number tens of thousands.”
Ubertan’s alleged side effects include nausea, allergic reactions and heart palpitations.
A Google search directed me to a non-existent ubertan.com and a forum where the substance is enthusiastically punted by a woman named Catherine saying it was “totally brill” and that the only side effects were a “loss of appetite”.
The fact is that this Catherine sounds less like a real person and more like the boiled slugs that roll around in dodgy marketing departments. She claims that Ubertan is “a plant extract, with Amino and Fatty Acids that increases the Melanin in your skin.”
On the same forum Scott Stevenson tells us, “This is almost definitely rebranded Melanotan II…Claims that it is simply made of 'plant extracts' are dubious at best.” He carries on about something I’d never heard of called Melanotan, which is another tanning product sold as a nasal spray.
Further investigation found this site that calls Melanotan ‘The Barbie Drug’ and reveals that the product has been having trouble gaining regulatory approval in Australia and the US, whose FDA said, “The U.S. Food and Drug Administration (FDA) has issued a Warning Letter to Brian Manookian, owner of Melanocorp, Inc. in Hendersonville, Tenn. for the illegal sale and marketing of the product Melanotan II, which is not FDA-approved, on Melanocorp's Web site. FDA recommends that consumers who are currently using Melanotan II stop using this product and consult their health care provider if they have experienced any adverse events that they suspect are related to its use.”
Apparently, it is flat-out illegal in the UK.
The infamous Catherine gives her UK number (07542 287 148), so call her if you've had a bad day and want to hurl abuse at someone.
My advice is that if your hairdresser or beauty therapist offers this product to you, slap them across the face… and if you know someone who is using it slap them too.
And some more good advice: Don’t drink moisturiser!
My response to the question was, “The only thing I stick up my nose is my finger.”
It seems logical to me that of all the male body’s orifices, there are three that should be used solely for substance expulsion – one of them is the nasal cavity.
Maybe this fairly straightforward rule should be taught in biology classes throughout the UK, because the Daily Mail reports that “hordes of young women” have been buying and snorting Ubertan – “It’s estimated that British users number tens of thousands.”
Ubertan’s alleged side effects include nausea, allergic reactions and heart palpitations.
A Google search directed me to a non-existent ubertan.com and a forum where the substance is enthusiastically punted by a woman named Catherine saying it was “totally brill” and that the only side effects were a “loss of appetite”.
The fact is that this Catherine sounds less like a real person and more like the boiled slugs that roll around in dodgy marketing departments. She claims that Ubertan is “a plant extract, with Amino and Fatty Acids that increases the Melanin in your skin.”
On the same forum Scott Stevenson tells us, “This is almost definitely rebranded Melanotan II…Claims that it is simply made of 'plant extracts' are dubious at best.” He carries on about something I’d never heard of called Melanotan, which is another tanning product sold as a nasal spray.
Further investigation found this site that calls Melanotan ‘The Barbie Drug’ and reveals that the product has been having trouble gaining regulatory approval in Australia and the US, whose FDA said, “The U.S. Food and Drug Administration (FDA) has issued a Warning Letter to Brian Manookian, owner of Melanocorp, Inc. in Hendersonville, Tenn. for the illegal sale and marketing of the product Melanotan II, which is not FDA-approved, on Melanocorp's Web site. FDA recommends that consumers who are currently using Melanotan II stop using this product and consult their health care provider if they have experienced any adverse events that they suspect are related to its use.”
Apparently, it is flat-out illegal in the UK.
The infamous Catherine gives her UK number (07542 287 148), so call her if you've had a bad day and want to hurl abuse at someone.
My advice is that if your hairdresser or beauty therapist offers this product to you, slap them across the face… and if you know someone who is using it slap them too.
And some more good advice: Don’t drink moisturiser!
South Africa Ready for the Undead!
Luckily, by the time the zombie apocalypse hots up, we’ll all be ordering off Amazon.
Our groceries will be delivered by armed men in armoured trucks, police will be on high alert and stop people randomly in the street to question them, and our homes will all be surrounded by high walls and electric fences.
Of course, the best place to live at the end of the world will be South Africa. If only because it won’t be such a lifestyle adjustment.
We all carry guns with us everywhere and live with thick bars on our windows. The roads are already absolute mayhem – with people staggering in the middle lane, groaning with their hands in front of them.
And Joburgers are already stopping at deserted petrol stations holding jerry cans like they do in Walking Dead and George Romero movies.
Plus, South Africans all have a natural suspicion of anyone they don’t know personally – so none of this eek-it’s-a-zombie! nonsense.
In all likelihood, the scourge of the undead will be the best thing that ever happened to SA.
Black and white will find that we’re not so different after all – at least we breathe air and turn our noses up at bloody chunks of human flesh – and we can unite at the polling stations to vote for more lax gun laws.
Of course, Julius Malema will blame the whole End of Days scenario on Helen Zille and the white racists in the DA… and Jacob Zuma will impregnate one.
Our groceries will be delivered by armed men in armoured trucks, police will be on high alert and stop people randomly in the street to question them, and our homes will all be surrounded by high walls and electric fences.
Of course, the best place to live at the end of the world will be South Africa. If only because it won’t be such a lifestyle adjustment.
We all carry guns with us everywhere and live with thick bars on our windows. The roads are already absolute mayhem – with people staggering in the middle lane, groaning with their hands in front of them.
And Joburgers are already stopping at deserted petrol stations holding jerry cans like they do in Walking Dead and George Romero movies.
Plus, South Africans all have a natural suspicion of anyone they don’t know personally – so none of this eek-it’s-a-zombie! nonsense.
In all likelihood, the scourge of the undead will be the best thing that ever happened to SA.
Black and white will find that we’re not so different after all – at least we breathe air and turn our noses up at bloody chunks of human flesh – and we can unite at the polling stations to vote for more lax gun laws.
Of course, Julius Malema will blame the whole End of Days scenario on Helen Zille and the white racists in the DA… and Jacob Zuma will impregnate one.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)