Pap's Almanac

A

Aardvarks

Animal.

The first thing people think of when asked to name early entries in the dictionary — despite aardvarks having no meaningful presence in UK wildlife.

You’ve either got to visit a zoo, or a particularly dodgy council estate, where aardvarks are often used as runners in low-level drug deals.

Due to a legal loophole, aardvarks cannot be criminally prosecuted in UK courts. As such, they’ve become the mule of choice for county lines syndicates.

The scandal broke in 2020, when an aardvark travelling during lockdown was robustly questioned at the M6 Toll services. His disguise — a false moustache and a Lidl carrier bag — aroused suspicion in a member of the British Transport Police.

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@Bearsy lives in @pap

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Aaron

One of the most confusing names in the English language. Schoolkids would assume it was spelt wrong, if they hadn’t already been spiritually numbed by the linguistic chaos that is English phonetics.

Nobody agrees on the pronunciation.

Ah-ron? Air-ron? Ay-Ron?

I’ve heard all three — often in the same conversation.

You never hear a Peter causing this kind of trouble.

My neighbour is called Aaron.

When he wants his dogs to defecate, he uses the command: “Toilet!”

I live in hope that one day, during a dinner party, a guest politely asks to use the toilet —

and both greyhounds rise, pad into the dining room, and shit on the floor.

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You fucking pleb. No polite dinner guest would request “the toilet”, it’s the bathroom. If you’re on close personal terms with the host one might ask to use “the loo”, (trivia note:Lady Louella/Loo,) or transatlantic types are permitted the use of the “washroom”. But never “the toilet”, just ask @lifeintheslowlane .

:thinking::+1:

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Abercrombie, Joe

Joe Abercrombie is an English author who wrote himself into obscurity
by doing the unthinkable in modern fantasy:

Finishing his stories.

This left deeply unfertile ground for the YouTube fantasy community,
who generally thrive on unfinished works they can recycle ad nauseam.

Abrams, J.J.

J.J. Abrams has a secret cinematic universe he’s desperate to build —
one that centres on an epic conflict between badgers and weasels in a sci-fi setting.

He has spent the past sixteen years systematically destroying all other sci-fi franchises in preparation for his magnum opus.

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Absence

If there are two things I’ve taught youngsters in my charge, they are:

  1. Turn up.

  2. Turn up on time.

Now some of the smareter rounds rightfully point out the redundancy in having.

  1. Turn up

When we’ve already got

  1. Turn up on time.

I admire these people, but I do reserve the right to look at an imaginary wristwatch when they do not turn up on time. They’ve clearly understood the lesson.

If you can’t work because of illness or family emergency, you can’t work. That’s fair, and people should get more than statutory sick pay if they genuinely can’t work.

But if you’e off every Monday, and every Saturday there are photos of you on social media looking pie eyed at four AM on a Sunday morning standing to a triffied and a man who looks like Gandlaf in a London basement club, I’m going to question that and the death of your fifth grandad.

Absolutely!

There are two kinds of people in this world when it comes to language: those who look words up in a dictionary, and those who do not.

You can forgive the former for struggling — maybe they’ve got literacy issues, sight problems, or were raised in a house with more vape cartridges than books. Fair enough. But the rest? The ones with eyes, brains, and broadband? No excuse.

People who say “Absolutely!” when they mean “Yes!” are not in the dictionary camp. They’re in Camp Parrot, eagerly regurgitating the noises their fellow parrots make, wasting everyone’s time and breath.

“Yes” has one syllable. “Absolutely” has four.

I suspect that’s the appeal.

In a time where everything’s accelerating and being smart has become a status symbol, “absolutely” feels like a shortcut to IQ.

And within their own cliques, it absolutely is.

The real tragedy? They have no idea what they’re actually saying.

“Absolute” means final. Complete. No more. The end.

“Do you want coffee?”

“Absolutely!”

“Oh good — I’ll begin drip-feeding it to you intravenously until the end of time. And while I’m at it, would you like all the coffee in the world? Coffee-coloured objects? A brown Honda Jazz?”

Pointing this out never helps.

They just smile inanely and say, “Absolutely!”

To be fair, we all do a bit of syllable inflation.

This was confirmed when I floated the idea with a colleague.

He nodded and said, “Affirmative. I agree.”

Still too many syllables.

But at least he knew what they meant.

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Quite correct, “Toilet” was a 1940/50s term for teaching your youngster to move on from defecating in their Nappy to defecating into a small tin pot, i.e. Toilet Training.
Once this technique had been mastered the child could move on to wearing scaled-down adult clothing. HTH. :slight_smile:

Do hurry up, I’m not getting any younger.
It seems I’m on dodgy ground if I want the low-down on one of my favourite writers; Emil Zola. :frowning:
IDEA!
Could you include him when you get to the letter “E”

This Opus is greater than the abridged works of Bill Shakespeare and in homage to me even includes spell check errors.
And yet you are making requests?
What next? A section on Captain Pikes’s Hair?

Ye Gods

AC/DC

AC/DC is a band that wrote a lot of good songs before 1981, and precisely two decent songs after that.

Despite the lack of new material, post-1980 AC/DC has been a commercial monster — endlessly touring the world to play the songs they wrote before 1981.

These songs would not be written today.

They are misogynistic and sexist.

There’s a folk cover of Powerage where the slower cadence allows the listener to fully appreciate the depths of lyrical depravity.

Their lead singer Bon Scott was cheeky enough to get away with it.

The band continues to tour to this day, propped up by the evergreen Angus Young, who still turns up to work dressed as a schoolboy — despite being well past retirement age and entitled to a free bus pass.

Still, it’s more likely Angus turns up at Donington on the 86A than AC/DC write another good song again.

Accrington Stanley

During the 1980s, the Milk Marketing Board ran a TV commercial featuring two very Scouse lads discussing the impact of milk on future football stardom.

“Ian Rush says if you don’t drink a pint of milk a day, you’ll only be good enough to play for Accrington Stanley.”

“Accrington Stanley? Who are they?”

“EXACTLY!”

Delivered in an accent so thick it could be bottled and sold, the implication was clear: playing for Accrington Stanley was a fate worse than rickets.

The players at Accrington took this to heart.

Collectively, they decided to start drinking milk — lots of it — in hopes of becoming good enough to play for Liverpool FC.

This escalated.

Soon there were Fresian cows in the changing rooms.

Milk was on tap.

The players began to gain weight.

Things got out of hand.

The scandal ended by accident.

On a long coach journey to an away fixture, the team bus — already burdened by the weight of dairy consumption — vibrated non-stop for fifty miles.

By the time they arrived in Scunthorpe, the entire squad had turned to cheese.

The club covered it up.

Youth players were promoted.

Lookalikes were drafted in.

The human-shaped cheese blocks were discreetly redistributed via local farmers’ markets.

Accrington Stanley have since become a successful league club.

No one talks about the cheese men.

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Can’t wait for you to get to:
AWESOME. One of the most used and least understood words in the English Language.

Awesome!!

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You can fuck right off. :lou_facepalm_2:

Super awesome!!!

Absolutely

Just wait for “literally”. It will be … something or other.

Absolutely, it will be literally awesome

Amazon drivers

Amazon drivers are a rarely seen, secretive bunch — known for their quick exits and varying levels of skill when it comes to hiding parcels.

Their disappearing act is so refined that even Usain Bolt reportedly cannot reach his front door in time to see one in the wild.

To some, they have become the modern-day Sanaa Claus — a figure of blind faith.

We know they deliver. But no one’s ever seen it happen.

During lockdown in 2020, a group of scientists set out to prove their existence.

They camped at key vantage points around their homes.

They ordered white goods — big, undeniable items.

After 36 hours and three campfires, they gave up.

When they returned home, they found:

  • A fridge in a hedge,

  • A washing machine tucked behind the bin, and

  • A Ninja Air Fryer being carried around by a St. Bernard.

No driver was seen.

But the parcels had come.

As always.

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Amazingly, don’t have that entry written yet. I’ve got A-C in the bag. I’ve just done the first draft but want to maintain alphabetical.

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American Empire, The

The term American Empire is never used formally — but everybody knows it’s there.

As empires go, it’s a clever one.
It pretends not to exist.
Countries seem to join it voluntarily, even informally.
Western Europe was very glad to have it around during the Cold War.

It’s not just boots on the ground — it’s multinationals on the business parks, favourable tax arrangements in places like Ireland, and local wealth quietly siphoned back home.

Step back, and it looks like genius:
An empire without the normal problems of empire.
People line up for the protection.
Sometimes even the branding.

This clever arrangement seems to have eluded the current occupant of the White House — a man convinced that Europe’s on the take, foreign countries are taking the piss, and everyone owes him money.

But Trump has missed the point.

The American Empire was always one of consent.
And he stands a very good chance of throwing it away —
without ever realising what it was.

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