1883 J.W. Horsley in Echo 25 Jan. 2/4: The treadmill again, is more politely called the everlasting staircase, or the wheel of life, or the vertical care-grinder.at wheel of life (n.) under wheel, n.
1997 M. Walters Echo 25: For Christ’s sake smarten yourself up, or you’ll give the poor woman the screaming habdabs.at screaming abdabs (n.) under abdabs, n.
1997 M. Walters Echo 199: He started yelling that I was a rent-boy and that anyone who wanted a bit of my arse should just come in the tent and take it.at arse, n.
1997 M. Walters Echo 359: Okay, he were a pain in the butt most of the time, but I’d kind of got used to him.at pain in the arse, n.
1997 M. Walters Echo 262: ’Course we didn’t share a sodding bed. I’m no pillow biter, and he’s no sausage jockey.at pillow-biter, n.
1997 M. Walters Echo 163: They warned me off you and Lawrence because they reckoned you were a couple of chutney ferrets after my arse.at chutney ferret (n.) under chutney, n.
1997 M. Walters Echo 199: So I jumped the silly bugger and tied him up in my doss before one of the psychos could kill him.at doss, n.1
1997 M. Walters Echo 163: Oh great! So our reputations go down the pan while you come out smelling of roses.at down the pan under down, prep.
1997 M. Walters Echo 43: I could no more pose weepy-eyed over where Billy died than I could wear your fuck-me clothes or your fuck-me make-up.at fuck-me, adj.
1997 M. Walters Echo 71: Listen, mate, the poor bastard had galloping schizophrenia, just like Walt here.at galloping, adj.
1997 M. Walters The Echo 354: You look like you’re sucking lemons every time the subject comes up.at suck lemons (v.) under lemon, n.
1997 M. Walters Echo 236: None of us’d seen him for about three, four weeks before he pegged it.at peg out, v.
1997 M. Walters Echo 210: He realised that Lawrence’s advice about keeping one step ahead was about as useful as pissing in the wind.at piss in(to) the wind (v.) under piss, v.
1997 M. Walters Echo 312: Means she’s scored, doesn’t it? Means she ain’t no pushover.at pushover, n.
1997 M. Walters Echo 262: ’Course we didn’t share a sodding bed. I’m no pillow biter, and he’s no sausage jockey.at sausage jockey (n.) under sausage, n.
1997 M. Walters Echo 312: What happens to the average wife whose husband dumps her in the shit and vanishes with all the loot?at land someone in the shit under shit, n.
1997 M. Walters Echo 163: Oh great! So our reputations go down the pan while you come out smelling of roses.at come up smelling of/like violets (v.) under smell, v.
1997 M. Walters Echo 273: It breaks my heart to watch her struggling to be civil to me in case I up my stumps and leave.at stumps, n.
1997 M. Walters Echo 299: Tight as a tick, he had waved them off in a taxi.at tight as a tick (adj.) under tight, adj.
1997 M. Walters Echo 95: People started getting twitched about whether he constituted a danger to society.at twitched, adj.
1997 M. Walters Echo 164: Terry threw an anguished glance over his shoulder at Deacon which clearly said, This old guy’s got his hand in mine, and I think he’s a fucking woofter.at woofter, n.
2010 M. Walters Echo 262: He glared from Deacon to the two policemen. ‘Course we didn't share a sodding bed. I'm no pillow biter, and he's no sausage jockey. Got it?’.at sausage jockey (n.) under sausage, n.