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Peculiar Memories of Thomas Penman 8: Harris = Arse – Harris derived from Aristotle – Harris-totle / Bottle (Bottle and Glass/Arse) .at aristotle, n.
Peculiar Memories of Thomas Penman 8: Harris = Arse – Harris derived from Aristotle – Harris-totle / Bottle (Bottle and Glass/Arse) . Peculiar Memories of Thomas Penman 102: Are you all right? [...] You sound arse-holed.at arseholed (adj.) under arsehole, n.
Peculiar Memories of Thomas Penman 104: ‘Live,’ said Thomas. ‘Bung it then.’.at bung, v.1
Peculiar Memories of Thomas Penman 177: A bit of a scuffle was developing. Susan Potts chipped in.at chip in, v.
Peculiar Memories of Thomas Penman 206: There was a hell of a conflab on the landing.at conflab, n.
Peculiar Memories of Thomas Penman 68: She’s a fucking mess [...] Anybody could do it to her, she’s a dog.at dog, n.2
Peculiar Memories of Thomas Penman 151: Rumbold and his pal known as ‘Flea-Bag’ turned up.at fleabag, n.
Peculiar Memories of Thomas Penman 55: It was Maurice who taught Thomas to flob. [Ibid.] 64: ‘Flob’, said Maurice. ‘Flob in the fire.’ A demonstration plug of sputum left his lips at high velocity.at flob, v.
Peculiar Memories of Thomas Penman 64: Before you can flob, you gotta suck in, you can only get flob from your lungs, and you can’t get real flob unless you smoke properly.at flob, n.
Peculiar Memories of Thomas Penman 65: ‘Fuck me dead,’ said Maurice.at fuck me dead! (excl.) under fuck me!, excl.
Peculiar Memories of Thomas Penman 65: ‘Wait till you see her up a tree, she’s got eyes looking out of her arse.’ ‘Fucking Ada!’.at fucking Ada! (excl.) under fucking, adj.
Peculiar Memories of Thomas Penman 99: ‘Only a joke,’ he said. ‘Yeah, very fucking funny.’ [...] ‘All right, keep your hair on.’ .at keep one’s hair on, v.
Peculiar Memories of Thomas Penman 8: Maris = Sperm (Maria Monk/Spunk).at maria (monk), n.
Peculiar Memories of Thomas Penman 88: Got no class, that dog [...] He’s all arsehole and maw.at maw, n.
Peculiar Memories of Thomas Penman 131: Dog came up here this morning. Messed itself. [...] Under the bed.at mess, v.
Peculiar Memories of Thomas Penman 180: It was Rob’s practice to sink a gut full of Teachers’.at sink, v.
Peculiar Memories of Thomas Penman 133: On the floor by the bed there was a bottle of slash that looked like orange juice from more than one country.at slash, n.
Peculiar Memories of Thomas Penman 60: He bought a packet of Park Drive filters [...] Park Drive were not only the cheapest twenty you could get, they were also the strongest. Maurice rated them a ‘fair snout’.at snout, n.2
Peculiar Memories of Thomas Penman 62: ‘How do you snuff ’em?’ said Thomas. ‘Butcher comes round every Thursday, smashes them on the head with a coal hammer.’.at snuff, v.2
Peculiar Memories of Thomas Penman 46: Hang the Irish . . . he could solve the Irish problem overnight . . . get into Dublin and string up some Micks.at string up, v.
Peculiar Memories of Thomas Penman 68: ‘Freda Pew hasn’t got black hair, you cunt.’ ‘I’m talking about on her thing.’ ‘What thing?’ ‘Her clump.’.at thing, n.
Peculiar Memories of Thomas Penman 79: He [...] wore slippers and an open dressing gown, which looked strange because he was togged underneath.at togged, adj.
Peculiar Memories of Thomas Penman 8: Tom = Shit (Tom Tit/Shit).at tomtit, n.
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