Whenever I fly across the pond to the States I’m always amused to see Belfast and Bangor on the maps as I fly over Maine, I’m *pretty* sure my Belfast and Bangor in Northern Ireland has first dibs on those names. I know there are lots of London’s and Paris’s and I wonder why, did the settlers have other things on their mind when they settled an area, little small things like survival and food supplies, so I suppose thinking up a name came very low in the list of priorities, I can imagine the discussion, “sure, we call this place Belfast, they’ll never know back home, after all it’s two weeks sailing, four weeks over mountains and four thousand miles away, you don’t tell, we won’t tell..” and the Internet hasn’t been invented yet!
Even here in London we have a huge amount of names used over and over again, in this borough there are two Lucien Roads (and old old address) about 10 minutes walking away from each other, I know this only too well because I’ve had to go to my Doppelgänger way too often to retrieve post..and vise versa.
So we double up on names but yet we have all these tiny little hamlets with nice sounding names that maybe only four people and their postman ever use, but 60 million of us in this land have run out of words to describe certain activities, so I propose we confiscate some of those names and put them to better use..
(yes, these hamlets and villages do exist)
Thundergay – the noise you make when you suspect there is a burglar downstairs, so you make lots of thumping noises as you ‘creep downstairs’ so he knows you are coming and hopefully runs away..
Lybster – that special feeling when you are crammed up against someone really attractive on a crowded rush hour tube/train/tram, closely related to Scrabster, that awful feeling when you are pushed up against someone really vile on a crowded rush hour tube/train/tram
Upper Piddle -The fission you get on said crowded train when you get your bottom felt by someone desirable, closely related to Lower Piddle – the disappointment when you realise it was not her but the bloke beside her.. and he wasn’t trying to grope your derrière but actually pickpocket you..
Shitlingthorpe -An unexpected viewing, not quite in relation to a house but rather when you are sitting upstairs on a double decker bus and when it stops in heavy traffic and you look out the window right into someone’s bathroom …and it’s occupied.. and you both catch each others eye..
Smiddyseat – Sitting at traffic lights and you glance across to next driver who is glancing across to you… whilst your finger is rammed tightly up your own nose.. closely related to Twittocks, which is then the extended length of time it takes for the traffic lights to turn green, co-incidentally the same colour as your finger..
Suspect I’ll be coming back to this theme… Boggybottom is too good to pass up…