Green’s Dictionary of Slang

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The Mint choose

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[UK] ‘J.H. Ross’ Mint (1955) 89: ‘A good game this: shot at dawn, probably,’ I said to myself, not really caring a tinker’s curse.
at not care a tinker’s (curse), v.
[UK] ‘J.H. Ross’ Mint (1955) 145: Not one of his efforts tried to be a P.T. exercise: just ‘mucking about,’ inflicted maliciously in his meanest style.
at muck about, v.
[UK] ‘J.H. Ross’ Mint (1955) 44: I wasn’t going to fuck about for those toffy-nosed buggers. [Ibid.] 118: Bloody binding to fuck round this cunting fence all night.
at fuck about, v.
[UK] ‘J.H. Ross’ Mint (1955) 161: There were Zepps in a cloud (sausages and mashed) and Adam and Eve on a raft (Hoxtonian for fried eggs on toast) as main dishes.
at Adam and Eve, n.1
[UK] ‘J.H. Ross’ Mint (1955) 146: Sailor was a little aerated this Friday night [...] Suddenly he grappled Paul.
at aerated, adj.
[UK] ‘J.H. Ross’ Mint (1955) 55: The barman only shook his bloody apron at him, and he went arse-ways on the fucking floor.
at smell of the barman’s apron (n.) under apron, n.
[UK] ‘J.H. Ross’ Mint (1955) 98: The slow ones [i.e. recruits] are haggard with being chased and chewed up (to arse-paper, as we say). [Ibid.] 113: I won’t take it out of you urks just because my bollocks were chewed to arse-paper.
at tear someone up for arse-paper, v.
[UK] ‘J.H. Ross’ Mint (1955) 108: Look me in the face, you short-arsed little fuck-pig.
at short-arsed, adj.
[UK] ‘J.H. Ross’ Mint (1955) 121: The silly twat didn’t know if his arse-hole was bored, punched, drilled, or countersunk.
at not know if one’s arsehole is bored or punched (v.) under arsehole, n.
[UK] ‘J.H. Ross’ Mint (1955) 55: Gave my fucking arsehole a headache.
at arsehole, n.
[UK] ‘J.H. Ross’ Mint (1955) 55: The barman only shook his bloody apron at him, and he went arse-ways on the fucking floor.
at assways (adj.) under ass, n.
[UK] ‘J.H. Ross’ Mint (1955) 31: The ‘axed’ Devonport apprentices [...] despise our mob.
at axe, v.
[UK] ‘J.H. Ross’ Mint (1955) 141: [He] shifted his other hand to that fatal ‘bollock-hold’ of our impolite wrestling code.
at ballock, n.
[UK] ‘J.H. Ross’ Mint (1955) 49: ‘Christ,’ he called to us after, ‘I didn’t half drop a bollock then. It was old man Jim himself.’.
at drop a ballock (v.) under ballock, n.
[UK] ‘J.H. Ross’ Mint (1955) 61: The biggest balls-up ever.
at balls-up, n.
[UK] ‘J.H. Ross’ Mint (1955) 55: Cunt shouldn’t bastard-well drink if he can’t carry it.
at bastard-well (adv.) under bastard, n.
[UK] ‘J.H. Ross’ Mint (1955) 110: In the four large camps of my sojourning there have been five fellows actively beastly.
at beastly (adj.) under beast, n.
[UK] ‘J.H. Ross’ Mint (1955) 118: Bloody binding to fuck round this cunting fence all night.
at bind, v.
[UK] ‘J.H. Ross’ Mint (1955) 42: Someone [...] begins ‘The green eye of the Yellow God’: and carries on unnerved though a dozen storm ‘Binder’ at him.
at binder, n.2
[UK] ‘J.H. Ross’ Mint (1955) 49: Some fellows picked up their ‘bits of skin’ even at the camp gates.
at bit of skin (n.) under bit, n.1
[UK] ‘J.H. Ross’ Mint (1955) 55: Lofty was being charged with blanket drill. ‘Swinging the dolphin’ Sailor called it with a lapse into seafaring.
at blanket drill (n.) under blanket, n.
[UK] ‘J.H. Ross’ Mint (1955) 115: There’s more fucking cheese on your knob than hair on your block.
at block, n.1
[UK] ‘J.H. Ross’ Mint (1955) 89: I’m bobbing on not getting that intelligent job from him!
at bob on (v.) under bob, v.3
[UK] ‘J.H. Ross’ Mint (1955) 94: She could enter the RAF hospital there and get it over. A bramah hospital.
at brama, n.
[UK] ‘J.H. Ross’ Mint (1955) 19: Buck up, old seat-wiper: I can’t tip you and I’m urgent.
at buck up!, excl.
[UK] ‘J.H. Ross’ Mint (1955) 94: Well, I’m buggered, who’d have fucking well thought it.
at buggered, adj.1
[UK] ‘J.H. Ross’ Mint (1955) 123: ‘They’ve been properly buggered these last days.’ He very bluntly told the Adjutant the harmfulness of the bullying we’d had.
at buggered, adj.2
[UK] ‘J.H. Ross’ Mint (1955) 85: He knew my painstaking was a defiant judgement upon himself. ‘You’re good at bull-shit,’ he wheezed [...] ‘now come and set out my knives and forks.’ [Ibid.] 88: ‘Proper bull-shit,’ grumbled Lofty when made to Silvo his boot-blacking tin till it simulated silver. Bull-shit it was.
at bullshit, n.
[UK] ‘J.H. Ross’ Mint (1955) 55: Anyway, it doesn’t take six cunting towns to make our burg.
at burg, n.1
[UK] ‘J.H. Ross’ Mint (1955) 118: ‘Get yourself a cha,’ he insisted gently.
at cha, n.1
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