Aasleagh (n.): A liqueur made only for drinking at the
end of a revoltingly long bottle party when all the drinkable drink has been
drunk.
Aboyne (vb.): To beat an expert at a game of skill by
playing so appallingly that none of his clever tactics or strategies are of any
use to him.
Abruzzo (n.): The worn patch of ground under a swing.
Acklins (pl. n.): The odd twinges you get in parts of
your body when you scratch other parts.
Ahenny (adj.): The way people stand when examining
other people's bookshelves.
Aigburth (n.): Any piece of readily identifiable
anatomy found amongst cooked meat.
Aith (n.): The single bristle that sticks out sideways
on a cheap paintbrush.
Albacete (n.): A single surprisingly long hair growing
in the middle of nowhere.
Alcoy (adj.): Wanting to be bullied into having another
drink.
Amlwch (n.): A British Rail sandwich which has been
kept soft by being regularly washed and resealed in clingfilm.
Ampus (n.): A lurid bruise which you can't remember
getting.
Anantnag (vb.): (Eskimo term) To bang your thumbs
between the oars when rowing.
Badachonacher (n.): An on-off relationship which never
gets resolved.
Balemartine (n.): The look which says, 'Stop talking to
that woman at once.'
Bathel (vb.): To pretend to have read the book under
discussion when in fact you've only seen the TV series.
Baughurst (n.): That kind of large fierce ugly woman
who owns a small fierce ugly dog.
Bauple (n.): An indeterminate pustule which could be
either a spot or a bite.
Beaulieu Hill (n.): The optimum vantage point from which to view people
undressing in the bedroom across the street.
Belding (n.): The technical name for a stallion after its first ball has
been cut off. Any notice which reads 'Beware of the Belding' should be taken
very, very seriously.
Belper (n.): A knob of someone else's chewing gum which you unexpectedly
find your hand resting on under the passenger seat of your car or on somebody's
thigh under their skirt.
Bickerstaffe (n.): The person in an office that everyone whinges about in
the pub. Many large corporations deliberately employ bickerstaffes in each
department.
Bishop's Caundle (n.): An opening gambit before a game
of chess where the missing pieces are replaced by small ornaments from the
mantelpiece.
Bodmin (n.): That irrational and inevitable discrepancy between the amount
pooled and the amount needed when a large group of people try to pay a bill
together after a meal.
Boinka (n.): The noise through the wall which tells you
that the people next door enjoy a better sex life than you do.
Boolteens (pl. n.): The small scattering of foreign coins and halfpennies
which inhabit dressing tables. Since they are never used and never thrown away
boolteens account for a significant drain on the world's money supply.
Boscastle (n.): The huge pyramid of tin cans placed just inside the
entrance to a supermarket.
Brindle (vb.): To remember suddenly where it is you're
meant to be going after you've already been driving for ten minutes.
Canudos (n.): The desire of married couples to see
their single friends pair off.
Clenchwarton (n.): (Archaic) One who assists an
exorcist by squeezing whichever part of the possessed the exorcist deems
useful.
Climpy (adj.): Allowing yourself to be persuaded to do
something and pretending to be reluctant.
Cloates Point (n.): The precise instant at which
scrambled eggs are ready.
Clun (n.): A leg which has gone to sleep and has to be hauled around after
you.
Clunes (pl. n.): People who just won't go.
Cong (n.): Strange-shaped metal utensil found at the
back of the saucepan cupboard. Many authorities believe that congs provide
conclusive proof of the exstence of a now extinct form of yellow vegetable
which the Victorians used to boil mercilessly.
Coodardy (adj.): Astounded at what you've just managed
to get away with.
Cotterstock (n.): A piece of wood used to stir paint
and thereafter stored uselessly in the shed in perpetuity.
Craboon (vb.): To shout boisterously from a cliff.
Cromarty (n.): The brittle sludge which clings to the top of ketchup
bottles and plastic tomatoes in nasty cafés.
For more, you'll just have to buy the book.
