On my morning commute reading a very fine novel, I came across the following euphemism to describe how a country girl in 19th century America might avoid pregnancy – “only that he should leave the church before the last hymn has been sung”.
Well, it made me laugh.
What are your current faves ?
In Liverpool the same thing is described as Getting off at Edge Hill – which is the last station before Lime Street, and just before you enter the tunnel approach to the end of the line….
In Portsmouth, it’s “getting off at Fratton”
As opposed to shooting the buffers at Portsmouth Harbour and ending up on the Isle Of Wight ferry….
In Caithness the railtrack divides as to whether you are going to Wick or Thurso, at a place called Georgemas, where nobody lives and there are no houses. So, inevitable, it is getting off at Georgemas
Have you noted that a couple of stops up the line, there’s Climax Building Supplies, who advertise thus : ‘Why jump off at Edge Hill when there’s a Climax at Broad Green.’
Brilliant – haven’t spotted it so will look out for it next time..
Anytime anyone mentions the Oxo Tower…. (apols, I really am about 13 years old.)
Bit early to Google this sort of thing, but there are some excellent fake restaurant reviews that continue the theme, with hilarious consequences.
I’m very, very sorry.
? oxo towers??
More poetry than euphemism, and the reverse of jumping off at Edge Hill. From the quill of Chris Wood, about having a daughter :
‘We drew back the bow / and let it go
Hit the target and carried on through’
Up here in Scotland’s central belt it’s known as “getting off at the Haymarket”, as opposed to to going all the way to The Waverley>
To raise our minds from the gutter for a moment, I was amused when someone from elsewhere in my workplace called by at our desks for the first time in a long time and enquired after a colleague who is no longer with us following a re-organisation. ‘He’s not here any more’, said a colleague, ‘He was released to explore alternative opportunities.’
Back down into the gutter again…”yodelling in the canyon” is one of my favourites. Then again there’s an office building near here which calls itself “Beaver Mining Equipment” – that sounds like a euphemism waiting to happen.
Not to mention this company http://www.beaverfurniture.co.uk/ which always makes me snigger.
‘Dancing at the other end of the ballroom’.
Jonathan Green’s ‘Getting off at Gateshead’ is well worth a read.
If you Google ‘I took her up the Oxo Tower’ then read the restaurant reviews. 😀
Again, many apologies. 😛
Ah…….
Is that the same as:
“Taking a stroll down Bourneville Boulevard”
Like Poseidon’s rebuked siren thronged pedalo redemption chorus.
I got a free tray of Basmati with that one once in Winsford.
at the risk of bringing the tone down (several notches)
I’m going for a meeting with Mr Brown.
Seeing the Brown family off to the coast
We’re over Dresden!
if you are referring to dropping the kids off at the pool, I like “open the pod bay doors, HAL”. But then I am a massive nerd.
“I’m afraid, Dave”
In our house, that business is known as “a Donald”, in rhyming deference to the vile Mr. Trump. This caused confusion on only one occasion when my brother assumed I was off for “a Donald Duck”. Otherwise it is known as “Downloading on a WC”, and it is often a wise precaution to make sure there’s a good “Loo Read”, handy.
When I was young we used to say “It’s not the sausage that makes you fat, it’s the sauce”.
I’ve always liked my mum’s description of certain people; “He’s all gob and hind legs”.
In my marriage there is something that is referred to as The Road Not Taken.
I always liked National Lampoon’s “driving the skin bus through tuna town”.
As someone who has recently had to come to terms with nappies and their contents, our little cherub’s wind section will sometimes produce a noise indicating a productive digestive transit, inspiring a declaration that “there’s gold in them there hills”.
I have every version of the Viz Profanisaurus sitting nearby so I could keep this thread rolling into 2016 were I to ration my contributions. Just opening the nearest volume at random…
“bag of Lego euph. Descriptive of the experience of intimacy with a lady devoid of womanly curves. e.g. Fuck me, I wouldn’t fancy fucking that Kate Moss much. It would be like humping a bag of Lego”.
one of my favourite profanisaurusisms would be describing a particularly smooth opening of the pod bay doors as being “like an otter off the bank”
When I was young and even more disgusting than I am now, I used to express my fondness for the more curvaceous sistren by talking in glowing terms about “climbing on the spacehopper”.