English

Middle English

by Enormous on November 20, 2009

Living in this uninteresting village in the middle of England is not such a bad thing, even though I often complain about it. And about its inhabitants.

The surrounding countryside is beautiful here in Derbyshire and provides agreeable walks for me and Audrey; local people are generally polite and unobjectionable; the weather is mild and temperate, and – most importantly – the area is renowned for its attractive females.

There is, perhaps, a surfeit of villains and murderers residing in the Midlands, but one tends to avoid such people, as a general rule.

And you can’t really blame the area’s youth too much for their negative attitude to life, their casual vandalism and antisocial behaviour; that is more the fault of their parents and of the piteously poor education system in the country as a whole.

In fact, being verbally abused on a regular basis by teenagers in the village has had a positive effect on my vocabulary.

And I was pleasantly surprised yesterday when a boy stepped off the pavement to allow Audrey and I to pass. I thanked him but he merely grunted in reply. Anything else would probably have stretched his manners to the point of injury.

Insulting remarks and general abuse from disenchanted youngsters doesn’t always bear scrutiny in matters of reason or social diplomacy, but I have learned some new swear-words.

‘Dil’, ‘ferjino’ and ‘mo’ are pejorative outbursts I can imagine using for my own means in the future, as are the wonderfully descriptive adjectives ‘vommy’ and ‘cocking’.

Such terms are not even required to make any sense.

‘You’re a f*cking poledancer, mate. You cocking pole.’ (Or was it Pole?)

‘Is yer dog’s dildo up yer arse?’ There really is no suitable reply to such an inquiry.

‘You is goalie for rams, innit.’ (I have no idea – but the term rams is used regularly as a personal insult in Derbyshire and Nottinghamshire.)

‘Is yer dog gay?’ is a question I get asked a lot, for some reason. (She’s not, as far as I can tell.)

And: ‘Do yer lick yer dog’s lipstick?’ was a question which, when asked, had a young girl and her three friends chuckling uncontrollably with mirth, but the meaning of which escaped me entirely.

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Village Secret

by Enormous on September 20, 2009

When Audrey and I bumped into Reg this morning he was with his horrible new friend Nigel.

‘Hello you two. How’s things?’ I ejaculated in a cheerful manner.

(I didn’t feel like saying that at all, to be honest with you. I actually felt like saying something more effective to Nigel, like ‘Piss off, you bigoted idiot.’ I didn’t. But sometimes ‘Piss off, you bigoted idiot’ is a very effective ejaculation to employ when one bumps into people one cannot stand.)

‘Nigel has been telling me all about the Village Secret,’ Reg informed me.

I must admit, I was vaguely intrigued. I asked: ‘What’s that?’

‘It’s a secret,’ said Nigel, somewhat imperiously.

I truly hate that man.

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Electric Baby Grand

by Enormous on June 28, 2009

Electric Baby Grand: The Enormous Early Years is a massive back-catalogue compilation of Enormous recordings.

It is a great starting point for anyone who wants to get into the musical head of an English band who place great value in the simple beauty of a classic pop song.

Warp Magazine said:

Love songs so catchy and unabashed they have to be fenced off. Sing-along choruses so big you can see them from space.

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