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Finnegan’s Week 173: Too much caffeine [...] I’m so amped I could jump-start Frankenstein’s monster.at amped, adj.
Finnegan’s Week 173: Too much caffeine [...] I’m so amped I could jump-start Frankenstein’s monster. Finnegan’s Week 317: So he’s out fucking around on you too, huh?at fuck around, v.1
Finnegan’s Week 340: Bobbie’s blown away Jules Temple!at blow (someone) away, v.
Finnegan’s Week 248: ‘Here, pus brain,’ she said.at pus-bag, n.
Finnegan’s Week 45: Scope those bazooms!at bazoom, n.
Finnegan’s Week 339: He [...] kissed her lightly on the nose, saying ‘I adore that bent beak’.at beak, n.2
Finnegan’s Week 146: All the ants went tits up [...] Sorry, ma’am. Belly-up.at belly up, adj.2
Finnegan’s Week 82: The guy [...] jist handed us an envelope with five big ones in it.at big one, n.
Finnegan’s Week 143: The bobtail van belonging to Green Earth Hauling and Disposal had not been in the stolen vehicle system for long.at bobtail, adj.
Finnegan’s Week 45: It takes a bimbo boffer like him to straighten out all the bitches in Washington.at boffer, n.
Finnegan’s Week 265: That bogus asshole don’t know dick about the real world.at bogus, adj.
Finnegan’s Week 275: These babes are thrashed. I’d rather get cranked and jack off. That way I can have anyone I want instead a these bowsers.at bowser, n.2
Finnegan’s Week 176: My old lady was seriously bummed.at bummed (out), adj.
Finnegan’s Week 135: Her baby was going to look like her carrot-top husband.at carrot-topped (adj.) under carrot, n.
Finnegan’s Week 167: It doesn’t pay to tomcat around in singles bars.at tom cat, v.
Finnegan’s Week 30: Jules was in several adult magazine and book shops in downtown San Diego looking for chickenhawk and pedophile publications.at chicken-hawk, n.
Finnegan’s Week 264: Man, my life’s become totally fucking amazing! I am in titty city, dude! I am gonna live in a meadow of meth!at -city, sfx
Finnegan’s Week 253: His cold foot was in a hot shoe!at cold, adj.
Finnegan’s Week 271: That bitch could douche with battery acid and never feel it. Cold. She’s cold, man.at cold, adj.
Finnegan’s Week 50: My brain got fried from snortin all that crank.at crank, n.2
Finnegan’s Week 51: You ever do cringe? That’s what we called meth, cringe. [Ibid.] 281: I think there’s somethin wrong with this cringe. I ain’t feelin a rush.at cringe, n.1
Finnegan’s Week 314: This is a cruddy age, isn’t it?at cruddy, adj.
Finnegan’s Week 277: The early Saturday evening mob of U.S. teens and young adults who descend on Tijuana to get drunk, slam dance in nightclubs.at slam dance, v.
Finnegan’s Week 265: That bogus asshole don’t know dick about the real world.at dick, n.1
Finnegan’s Week 156: He didn’t seem to know diddly.at diddly, n.1
Finnegan’s Week 255: I’m talking about big money. Robo bucks. Humungous dinero!at dinero, n.
Finnegan’s Week 38: Having served in Korea as a dogface grunt.at dogface (n.) under dog, n.2
Finnegan’s Week 231: Oops [...] I’m such a doofus when I eat stuff like ... what’s this called again?at doofus, n.
Finnegan’s Week 264: You ever seen that Honda Shadow eleven hunnerd? It ain’t a fag bike.at fag, adj.
Finnegan’s Week 151: I can let you have a quarter a go-fast for twenny bucks.at go-fast, n.
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