![[Ire]](/static/img/flags/ire.png "Ireland")
Confessions of Proinsias O’Toole 106: Drunk as a fiddler’s bitch.at drunk as (a)..., adj.
Confessions of Proinsias O’Toole 106: Drunk as a fiddler’s bitch. Confessions of Proinsias O’Toole 98: Boys-a-boys! That’s one quare shooter, lads.at boys-a-boys!, excl.
Confessions of Proinsias O’Toole 96: A broth of a bhoy, strong but merciful, articulate, humorous, tolerant.at broth of a boy, n.
Confessions of Proinsias O’Toole 38: We haven’t been lumbering him with duff ammo.at ammo, n.
Confessions of Proinsias O’Toole 38: Ah, Christ save us from arty-crafty perverts!at arty-(and-)crafty, adj.
Confessions of Proinsias O’Toole 39: In the next couple of hours I tried hard to dampen the fires in her puddings with half-pints of draught stout – but I could do nothing about the tears.at puddings and pies, n.
Confessions of Proinsias O’Toole 43: Give me a bout of karate with Kate or a bit of slap and tickle with spotty Tess any day.at slap and tickle, n.2
Confessions of Proinsias O’Toole 47: ‘Ah yer arse,’ I said colloquially; ‘don’t believe everything you read.’.at your arse! (excl.) under arse, n.
Confessions of Proinsias O’Toole 27: Save that guff for the arse-banditti and let’s hear what you’re after.at arse bandit, n.
Confessions of Proinsias O’Toole 78: Ma hair’ll niver grow again an’ all because that pig’s arse wanted a patsy for a shortage in last week’s collection.at pig’s arse, n.1
Confessions of Proinsias O’Toole 74: In some boozer or tart’s bed, I’ll bet, an’ me stuck with six childer in the arsehole of nowhere.at arsehole, n.
Confessions of Proinsias O’Toole 139: Queer as a three bob bit and as happy as pigs in shit.at ...a nine-bob note under queer as..., adj.
Confessions of Proinsias O’Toole 11: I visualized a platoon of priest-eaters [...] ready to storm in and catch such a notorious Taig baby-farmer in bed – with a Prod!at baby-farmer (n.) under baby, n.
Confessions of Proinsias O’Toole 40: Living up to that life-philosophy succinctly outlined by baddie Lee Marvin to goodie John Wayne in The Comancheros.at baddie, n.
Confessions of Proinsias O’Toole 49: She then stood back and held the door for the sticky-eyed ragbag that tumbled out.at rag bag, n.
Confessions of Proinsias O’Toole 68: The Isle of Man has been invaded by a legion of Pakistani bag-men.at bagman, n.
Confessions of Proinsias O’Toole 3: For one wild moment I came near to bollixing it all by asking, ‘What six stens?’.at ballocks (up), v.
Confessions of Proinsias O’Toole 22: A good old-fashioned, honest-to-God boot up the bollocks!at ballocks, n.
Confessions of Proinsias O’Toole 43: Between bangs she’d talk, about banging in general but primarily about the preceding bang and how good it had been.at bang, n.1
Confessions of Proinsias O’Toole 112: Things tend to get a bit bandjaxed from now on.at banjaxed (adj.) under banjax, v.
Confessions of Proinsias O’Toole 22: Now every time I open my bake he’s on the blower to one of them Prod puffs in the BBC.at beak, n.2
Confessions of Proinsias O’Toole 32: He was in such a mood, Punchy swears, that had it been anyone else he’d have thrown them his ‘beaming-up’ kit and told them to get on with it.at beam up, v.1
Confessions of Proinsias O’Toole 96: He’d lost his bap completely [...] he stood shaking a trembling fist under my nostril.at lose one’s bean (v.) under bean, n.1
Confessions of Proinsias O’Toole 86: A sort of points system, awarding himself so many for each untouched dram, forsaken fag and, I suppose, unmolested bint.at bint, n.
Confessions of Proinsias O’Toole 138: Beyond a few sessions of mutual Bishop bashing (a competitive sport called ‘Kentucky Whist’) I emerged as innocent of the ways of Sodom as I’d gone in.at bang one’s bishop (v.) under bishop, n.2
Confessions of Proinsias O’Toole 25: They were doing their undercover bit, scoop-peak caps pulled down over their eyes.at bit, n.1
Confessions of Proinsias O’Toole 109: Beset on all sides by black heathens in armoured cars; murderous Blackmouths lurkin’ round every corner armed to the teeth.at blackmouth, n.
Confessions of Proinsias O’Toole 9: Them Prods are blatterin’ away like mad over there.at blatter, v.
Confessions of Proinsias O’Toole 14: He spoke with the blimpish boom of a septuagenarian Field Marshal.at blimpish (adj.) under blimp, n.1
Confessions of Proinsias O’Toole 93: Time to pack it in [...] when even a mindless vessel like Tessy Hagan has you taped well enough to pull a blind like that!at blind, n.1
load more results