Green’s Dictionary of Slang News

GDoS Update #21 1 October-31 December 2021

Welcome to the 21st appearance of the three-monthly upgrades of the on line version of Green’s Dictionary of Slang. A mixture of Covid and crashes have meant that the previous couple of updates have lacked their attendant, explanatory blog. My apologies. Things have slightly improved. Covid undoubtedly persists (I recently found myself using the phrase ‘mask discipline’), but thanks to the indefatigable Jesse Sheidlower, crashes have been avoided this time. herewith the usual explanatory bare bones and stats.

Fortunately working from home and extracting one’s information from digital sources is no novelty for the lone slang collector. Things have barely changed. The database has now reached some 54,150 headwords, many of which contain nested content, whether as derivatives, compounds, phrases or exclamations. In total the last three months has increased the total of available citations by 4867 (pertaining to material in 3440 headwords). The database has amassed just under 610,000 citations since the project began. I have also tried to restore some of the geographical spread that was originally researched some time ago, but had, for reasons of space, to be excluded from the print edition in 2010. That, unsurprisingly, remains an on-going project and a number of the cites gathered since 2010 have been added for that very purpose.

As ever the update offers a mix of new terms, whether from the past or as near present as research can achieve, and a number of predates of existing terms, each one gnawing yet further at that most desirable of bones, the first recorded use. Given the irreversible demise of the original, Timeglider software, I suggest that those who wish for an instant overview of what the last 90 days’ research has garnered in terms of these categories or should a pair of Excel files, which I have made available via Dropbox and which can be found here and here. They offer new slang terms and predates of existing material. The Timelines of Slang, however, remain available here.

Among the new terms are pitch the baby card v. for a cheat to encourage a victim by betting and deliberately losing; arm-hooker n. a (female) companion, whose arm is hooked through ones own, coke nail, n. the nail of a single finger that is allowed to grow disproportionately long and which can thus be used to scoop up cocaine for inhalation; good on the flute adj. loquacious; soften one’s cough v. to render someone susceptible to confessing; gruesome Gertie, the electric chair used for executions in the Louisiana State penitentiary, Angola from 1941-91; husband beater n. a long-handled parasol; jaba juntz n. a non-specific object, ‘stuff’; lick-wimble n. a heavy drinker; the Tea-pot or the Morning Slop-Basin, London’s right-wing Morning Post newspaper and the self-justificatory male phrase I can only piss with the cock I’ve got.

Predates of existing entries, working as ever on lexicography’s primary rule: ‘It’s Always older Than We Think’ run to 226. These run from out-and-outer, in the sense of a particularly gross lie, an example of which was hitherto glossarial only and listed in 1984 which has now been recorded in 1831, to various one-year alterations, such as fine as wine, first-rate, very attractive (now 1984), clucky, pregnant (1936) and smartmouth, cheeky(1979). More substantial changes can be be found with ass-whipping, a thrashing, back 142 years to 1823, stumer, in the racing sense of a horse that for corrupt betting purposes will not be allowed to win, back 77 to 1873, and an attributive use of chaw-bacon, meaning rustic, back 46 to 1832.

For this update new material, which as ever means terms that are new to the database (and which thus may date from any point during the more than half-millennium that has been researched) has added 460 entries. Among new sources are the near-entire contents of Cornelius Crowe’s Australian Slang Dictionary (Sydney 1895, 1155 terms), a follow-up to the Sydney Slang Dictionary (1882, see update #20) and between them the first attempts at antipodean slang lexicography since the lexicon published alongside James Hardy Vaux’s Memoirs of 1812/1819. Other titles include a pair of scabrous early 19th century newspapers: The Age (1835-45) and The Satirist, or Censor of the Times (1831-49). The former is perhaps best-known for its editor Charles Molloy Westmacott (1788-1868) who as ‘Bernard Blackmantle’ wrote one of many successors-cum-plagiarisms of Pierce Egan’s best-seller Life in London: The English Spy (1825). Westmacott’s paper sold well enough but its aim was blackmail and the possibilities for extortion that might spin off. He earned a highly negative portrait as the unprincipled gossip-monger ‘Sneak’ in Edward Bulwer’s England and the English (1874), and was ranked as ‘the principal blackmailing editor of his day’.

The qualifier ‘principal’ should be noted. The Age was hardly alone. Its rival and sometimes contemporary (it marginally outlived its predecessor: both fell victim to the growing moralising of ‘Victorian’ sanctimony) was Barnard Gregory’s The Satirist, with its high-sounding but wholly inapplicable subtitle ‘The Censor of the Times’. Again Gregory was a journalist who kept one hand for writing while extending the other to take bribes whereby that same writing might be suppressed. He faced the courts charged with libel and eventually served prison time. More slangy than the Age, the Satirist is a great source of what would then have been new slang. Among the terms – whether brand-new or predates – it brings to GDoS are burke, originally to rob graves, here to suppress cover up or stifle’ by cheeses! a token euphemism for Jesus, cockchafer, a woman, occasionally a man, who permits or encourages a good deal of sexual intimacy but stops short of intercourse, high and dry, one who belongs to the Anglican congregation of the Church of England (rather than an evangelical, known as a low and slow), jiggle, to have sexual intercourse and old cockalorum, sexual intercourse itself, lush room, an inn or tavern (from lush, alcohol or to drink), mud-plunger, a heavy boot for country walking, pancake, a sucker (playing on the synonymous flat), securer, a specially made dice box that facilitates cheating, toppy, drunk and lick-wimble, i.e. ‘lick-corkscrew’, a heavy drinker

As he did in the previous update, Jim Gibbons has sent in many examples of both new terms and predates of existing ones. After eviscerating the pulp fiction version of the French Foreign legion last time, he has now been through a substantial proportion of the works of Walter Dean Myers (1937-2014, an African-American author whose titles would now be grouped under the rubric of ‘Young Adult’. GDoS now offers some 460 slang terms from 34 of Myers’ books. More than 30% of these represents what are currently first recorded uses. Among them: for air, for free, bad boy, something impressive or alluring, beast, an expert, break someone’s face, to hurt someone’s feelings, calendar space, prison time, up in someone’s face, arguing, confronting, jive up, to make a mess, to ruin, perped down, looking ,ike a gangster, put (something) on, to allot responsibility, ringy-dingy, a phonecall, sticker, one who helps a heroin addict find a vein in which to inject, and do the thing, to defeat comprehensively.

UPDATE #15 1 May to 31 July 2020


Welcome to the fifteenth and latest quarterly update of the online version of Green’s Dictionary of Slang.


As ever, some statistics: research over the last three months has added 385 new slang terms; 538 entries have been predated as to their currently recorded ‘first use’ and some 4,472 new citations – including ante-dates, inter-dates and post-dates to reflect the continuing use of many terms –  have been uploaded within  2,642 terms. In total the database currently offers 55,542 headwords (within which are nested over 135,000 discrete words and phrases, underpinned by over 655,000 citations). All this material is on offer to every user.


Unfortunately, and to my own regret, the software that has up till now made it possible to offer users a timeline of new material is no longer functioning. Nor is it to be supported. Thus it has not been possible to initiate the usual link with its red and blue tags, showing antedates and new terms of slang. Instead I have created a very simple spreadsheet with Excel. Users who wish to consult this can find it at Google Drive here.


This offers both new slang terms, in alphabetical order, and ante-dates, listed by the ‘spread’ of the date as recorded on May 1 2020 and that which has replaced it after the recent quarter’s research.


Much of that research has focused on the American Underworld: The Flash Press, a collection of the American Antiquarian Society and digitized by Readex/Newsbank. These 45 titles (ranging from a single edition to runs covering multiple years) have between them provided more than two-thirds of this update’s additions and changes. I have written below on the nature of the ‘flash press’ and some of the slang terms that have been extracted from it. Other material has come from the usual wide range of sources.




New York & Environs 1830-1865

‘Here’s this morning’s New York Sewer! Here’s this morning’s New York Stabber! Here’s the New York Family Spy! Here’s the New York Private Listener! Here’s the New York Peeper! Here’s the New York Plunderer! Here’s the New York Keyhole Reporter!

Dickens, Martin Chuzzlewit (1844)




Taking his first steps through 1840s New York City, the young hero of Dickens’ Martin Chuzzlewit pays a visit to the offices of the New York Rowdy Journal. The paper was Dickens’ creation, a nod to what he saw as the trashy standards of the contemporary New York press, but there were examples to draw on, sufficient to be known collectively as the ‘flash press.’ Flash, that is, as in hedonistic, immoral, sexually sophisticated and as a result of all this, short-lived.


In the accompanying illustration by ‘Phiz’ one may see lying on a cupboard, alongside bottles marked respective ‘ink’ and ‘poison’, a volume marked ‘slang dic.’, but if there was a slang dictionary in use, then it must have been Pierce Egan’s revision of Grose or ‘Jon Bee’s’ Dictionary of the Turf, the Ring, the Chase, the Pit, &c.,  both published in 1823 and both, of course, British. America would not have a homegrown version for a further 15 years.


Its potential contents, however, were ready and waiting.


Thirty years on, writing in his Americanisms (1872) Maximilian Schele de Vere stressed that ‘the most fertile source of cant and slang, however, is, beyond doubt, the low-toned newspaper, written for the masses, which, instead, of being a monitor and an instrument of improvement in the hands of great men, has become a flatterer of the populace, and a panderer to their lowest vices.’ Nor were need the press-spread neologisms only slang. Thirty years later still James Murray of the OED acknowledged the pre-eminence of the popular press in keeping lexicographers abreast of language’s cutting edge. Neither mentioned, but but both might well have done, the ‘flash press’. It ticked their every box.




The press flourished for a decade or so. Of the titles that can be consulted, thanks to the American Antiquarian Society and the digitized versions created by Readex/NewsBank and available as American Underworld: The Flash Press, few have survived, Their names include The Whip, The Flash, Ely’s Hawk & Buzzard, The Subterranean, The Flagellator, The Scorpion, The Libertine, Life in Boston and New York (from Boston, MA), The Spy (from Manchester, NH), Venus’ Miscellany (inching towards modern pornography)  and various copycats and clones. They were very much a Yankee creation and focused on a local audience. Other ‘sporting’ journals (best known being The Spirit of the Times, its most successful editor being an ex-‘flash press’ hack, George Wilkes, formerly of The Flash) might embrace a wider America, or even if based in New York, such as the National Police Gazette, draw in readers from across the country. The hardcore did not, nor did they wish to.


They were mainly, but not uniquely American. The 1840s saw equivalents in the London (Paul Pry and Sam Sly, or The Town) and Sydney, Australia (The Satirist and Sporting Chronicle) but like their New York equivalents, they vanished almost as soon as they had started picking up readers. The punters may have enjoyed their salacious prurience, those with the power to curb it and those who found themselves its targets (sometimes one and the same) did not.


They were based on gossip, typically indicated with a wealth of initials which, were ‘reform’ (i.e. a cash payment) not made soon, would be filled out with a full name. In Dickens’ case, his 1842 trip to Gotham was noted by hints at a visit to a brothel that does not, unsurprisingly, appear in his own American Notes. As the Whip of April 23 put it ‘There was a little dog, and he had a little tail, Oh, what a living Boz you is.’ (It is also fascinating to witness how quickly Dickens creations entered common usage, almost before a new serial had been finished.) The press posed as enthusiasts of reform, but it was the same enthusiasm that has underpinned the hypocritical mouthings of generations of tabloids. The supposedly wicked were shamed, all the better to publicise the details (or at least the heavy-handed suggestions) of their sins. A column like The Rake’s ‘Invisible Spy offered all the smug spitefulness of the most dedicated and moralizing censor. Blackmail was never far away.


The columns, usually headed ‘The X [the journal’s title or alternatively a town or city’s name] Wants to Know’, played on the journal’s name to threaten ‘whipping’, ‘spying’ ‘flagellation’ and the clawed descent of both ‘hawks’, ‘buzzards’ and other birds of prey. It was these columns, of course, skating on the thinnest of ice, that would see them prosecuted and shut down. Fifty years later the tradition persisted. Columns headed ‘They Say’ in such Australian papers as the Sunday Times (from Perth, Western Australia) sailed equally close to the wind, as they retailed the scabrous suggestions of what it was that ‘they’ allegedly were saying. And if anything Australia’s racist stereotyping, bad enough in mid-century America, was even worse.


It was not all gossip. There was ‘racy’ fiction too. Foremost among its contributors was George Thompson, who also edited on occasion. His many stories mixed thinly veiled pornography (with constant references to nymphomania, pedophilia, incest, gay sex, miscegenation and group sex), true-crime stories and a fascination with the bizarre. They were regularly advertised in the press: a quarter per book and five for a buck:




At times the flash press became positively mainstream. There would be regular descriptions of brothel dances, with every inmate’s dress as minutely delineated as a legitimate magazine might lay out those paraded by princesses at a royal wedding. Like London’s 18th century guides to the pleasures of Covent Garden, ‘houses’ were specified, along with their address, the name and reputation of ‘Madame,’ the qualifications and charms of the inmates, and the decorations, both down- and upstairs, that clients might expect to encounter. Some journals offered pictures, of girls and of their luxurious backdrop. There were lists of drinks that one ‘nymph’ or another preferred to imbibe. There were also instructions as to the best theatres to visit if you wanted to find a partner for the night: the ‘third tier’ circle of the Chatham or the Chestnutt were especially recommended. If all else failed, there were regular mentions of Mrs Restell, New York’s best-known abortionist and allegedly protected — for a cut — by the city’s Police Commissioner Matsell. The papers, like their ‘straight’ peers, had no mutual affection. It was a rare issue rare which did not feature one savaging the other — usually on the grounds of the supposedly lax morality of their editors. The Whip and The Rake were especially barbed towards each other, reflecting, perhaps, their success and the near-identical nature of their writing.


For a detailed history of the flash papers, well illustrated by a range of excerpts, the best resource is The Flash Press: Sporting Male Weeklies in 1840s New York (2008) by Patricia Cline Cohen, Timothy J. Gilfoyle, and Helen Lefkowitz Horowitz. This looks at the sociology and when  relevant the politics behind the press; at those who edited them and those who read them and those, mainly existing within the New York sexual underworld of brothels, pimps, bawds, whores and of course clients, who provided – either as informers or participants – their stories.


Patricia Cohen and her colleagues only mention the language of the press in passing, focusing on what it said rather than the actual words and phrases that comprised it. My own researches, reading through a large proportion of the titles available, have, as is slang’s way, ignored the social backdrop, and gone for the vocabulary.


Given a source that has proved so remarkable in the fecundity of material, one word leaps out, though it has no claims on slang. Serendipity or what Shakespeare’s villainous tinker Autolycus termed the snapping up of unconsidered trifles. Not in the research, which requires serious concentration, but in what it displays: the press offers up approximately 250 hitherto unrecorded terms; in addition, and indulging the ‘historical’ lexicographer’s holy grail: the ‘first recorded use’, there are around 375 predates. But had these papers not survived – and given their lurid content most readers preferred not to start a collection – and then been made available to scholars, this information would have remained unknown and unexhumed. This, of course, is true of all research: if you don’t know it’s there, how can you interrogate it. That this small but revelatory collection has survived and is now available for excavation, only underlines its value.


What it also shows is that despite a common misbelief that America’s, which still effectively meant New York’s slang generation had yet properly to come on line, it was up and running. Twenty years later George Matsell’s Vocabulum, or The Rogue’s Lexicon, the country’s first native dictionary of slang, proved the point. To what extent he read the press is unknown; as police chief he was certainly gained regular mentions (177 appearances between 1841-71).






As a  lexicographer Matsell did his own digging. To look only at the letter ‘B’ – for which Vocabulum lists some 127 headwords –one finds the following 39 terms (nearly one third) that for which, when he published, his is the first recorded use: badger (a thief who rifles the pockets of a man who is currently engaged with his accomplice, a prostitute), badger-crib (a brothel wherein one is robbed), barney (a fake fight, arranged by criminals to distract a potential victim’s attention.), beat (to rob), beaters (boots), bet one’s eyes (to watch a game but not get involved in the betting), big thing (a large amount of plunder), bingo-boy (a drunkard), bit (arrested), blarney (a picklock), take a blinder (to die), blink (to go to sleep), bludget (a female thief), boarding house (a prison), boat (to transport a convict), boat with (to become partners with), boated (sentenced to a long term in prison), body cover (an overcoat), boke / boko (the nose), booby-hatch (a police station), boshing ( a whipping), bots (boots), bracket-mug (an ugly face), break o’day drum (an all-night tavern), break a leg (to seduce), broad-pitching (‘three-card monte’), brother (of the) bolus (a doctor), brother of the surplice (a priest), brush (to ‘soften up’ a victim), buck (an unlicensed cab-driver), bugger (a pickpocket), bully (a cosh), bummer (a scavenger), bumy-juice (beer), burned out (exhausted), burner (a card-sharp), burst (a spree), burster (a burglar), butteker and butter-ken (a shop), buttered (whipped), and button (to act as a confidence trickster’s accomplice).




But Matsell’s list could have been even larger. The lexis offered in flash press, which he seems to have bypassed, coincides barely if at all. Both Matsell and at least one paper use burst, a spree, an indulgent party. There is badger, but as a verb, referring to the act of the girl in conning the client, and badger game, which Matsell ignores. For him boarding house is defined as a prison (he has the synonym boarding school), while the press opts for a brothel, with its attendant boarders and boarding ladies; it also regularly uses board, to live as a brothel prostitute. Matsell has a couple of brothers: of the bolus (a doctor) and the surplice (a priest) but not the press’ preference, of the brush (a painter). Both offer bummer, but the press defines him as a ‘a fast young man’, while Matsell has a ‘scrounger’ (a weak form of the earlier ‘looter’).


None of which is to invalidate the policeman. If one accepts the late 19th century report of the writer William Cumming Wilde, both criminals and policemen backed up the Vocabulum’s lexis. Wilde cited the book both to ‘one of the most desperate characters that our city has produced’ and to ‘one of the best as well as oldest detectives in our country […] a man who has followed his profession for fully half a century.’ Both supported the accuracy of Matsell’s lists. And ‘subsequent interviews with some of the best officers on our police force fully confirmed this.’ Still, one wonders what else there was, noticed by neither source. Nor, however, does it go to prove slang’s oft-suggested ephemerality. These uses by the press may be the first, but they are by no means the last. Serendip again:  no one lexicographer, even with a copper’s facilities, can collect everything; nor can a down-market hack, however well wired into his subject-matter, glean a whole lexis.


Both the slang neologisms and the pre-dating of existing terms are worth mention. Of the new terms, a small selection offers land frigate (a prostitute), sashay (to have sexual intercourse), zoe (a prostitute), gravy-eyed (insult offered a woman), carry the war into Africa (to take things further), give someone a striped jacket (to give a beating), grinding mill (a brothel), gum game (a confidence trick, though it depends not on speech, as ‘gum’ might suggest, but the activity of the opossum, which, in its efforts to elude the hunter, climbs to the very top of a gum tree, thus taking itself beyond the hunter’s reach and, since it was hunted at night, beyond his eyesight), nine months fever (pregnancy), stargazer (a womaniser, a prostitute’s client), twig the heel (to seduce), blow-breeches (a braggart,; a verbose talker), horizontal academy (a brothel), codfishopolitan (a native of Boston, MA, from the city’s prime product), prop-room (a venu specializing in the ‘thimble-rig’), bell-teazer (a hat, with a curved brim and crown), r.g. crib (a down-market tavern, selling rot-gut), work on mattresses (to work as a prostitute), mumble-peg game (sexual intercourse), gin depot/fountain (a tavern). If the topics seem somewhat monocular, thus the papers that reported on them.


Then there are the phrases: too much pork for a shilling (too much of a good thing) look marrowbones and cleavers (to stare aggressively), walk up to the ringbolt (to be hanged), go in for lemons (to commit oneself wholeheartedly), too much pumpkins (something or someone seen as excessive), not see one’s own gate an inch from one’s nose (to be ‘blind’ drunk), 2:40 on the plank road (the speedy payment of a debt; ‘2:40’ being the time of a fast trotting horse and plan road a play on ‘plank down,’ i.e. money), and eleven pennies out of the shilling (used to indicate a percentage of non-white parentage and reminiscent of British India’s not sixteen annas to the rupee) plus such street-launched catcalls as how do you live and what do you do in the daytime? with its inference of addressing a prostitute and the indefinable if you don’t look out we’ll get a camel on you!




As for the predates, and restricting ourselves to the 32 examples that have pushed back slang’s records by 100 years-plus, these are in their way even more interesting. They also are, or were, more examples of the era’s expanding slang vocabulary. (None of these terms – whether ‘new’ or ‘predates’ – are set in stone: any one of them may yet be revealed as even older).


From the longest predate in descending order they are plain sewing (anal intercourse) 171 years predate (1832<-2003), grease-pot  (an insult suggesting some form of kitchen slavey) 157 years (1848<-2005), pigville (the poor end of town, the implication, as usual with pigs, being that the locals are Irish) 156 years 1848<-2004), orangutan (a highly derogatory name for an African American) 150 years (1842<-1992), speak French  (to perform fellatio, the inevitable link of ‘dirty’ French to oral sex) 144 years (1842<-1986), burst (to go out on a spree) 142 years (1842<-1984), rigging  (usually clothes, but here the genitals) 140 years (1848<-1988), grindstone  (the vagina) 138 years (1842<-1980), miff (to get angry) 144 years (1812<-1956), sheisty (underhand, unethical) 138 years (1855<-1993); get the sack (to have one’s relationship ended) 136 years (1833<-1969), hard boy (a thug) 134 years (1851<-(1985), sack (to end a relationship) 133 years (1856<-1989), dragon (an old prostitute) 125 years (1859<-1984), horn (a womanizer) 124 years , (1843 (1967), whistle (the penis) 122 years (1843<-1965), bedhouse (a brothel) 118 years (1842<-1960), snork (a young man) 118 years (1848<-1966), banger (one who hits hard) 117 years (1842<-1959), dirty leg (a promiscuous female) 117 years (1861<-1968), cut (circumcised) 116 years (1856<-1972), horizontal (used in compounds to mean sexual intercourse, here mesmerism and amusement) 115 years (1844<-1959), chant (to talk persuasively) 114 years (1842<-1956), jug (a figurative sense of SE juggle, to fool, deceive) 113 years (1855<-1968), fast (sexy, provocative) 112 years (1848<-1960), eat dried apples (to become pregnant) 111 years (1854<-1965), pork (to have sexual intercourse) 111 years (1856<-1967), crawl (a promenade along the street) 111 years (1882<-1993), peeps (people)  109 years (1833<-1942), ointment (money) 107 years (1842<-1949), on ice (to the limit) 107 years (1861<-1958), wet deck  (a woman or prostitute who performs serial sex acts with a succession of males) 106 years (1843<-1949) and shag (a person) 103 years 1843<-1946).


Perhaps the most intriguing, is that for phat, the usual etymology of which is a deliberately skewed spelling of the positive slang term fat adj. sense 1, but which is also popularly linked to a variety of suggested abbreviations or acronyms, e.g. physically attractive or pretty hips and thighs or pretty hips, ass and tits, or pretty hot and tempting, or pussy, hips, ass and thighs etc. All of these link to sense 1, used to describe an attractive woman. Gelded of any sexuality, phat sense 2 is a term of general approval. It is here that one might place another example from the flash press: as published by New York’s Flash on 14 August 1842, ‘As it is not a very “phat” job to beat oneself […] he elevated his sparkling orbs in search of a victim.’ However the use is unique, and like slang’s fat, adj. (2), the term means substantial, wealthy and in terms of the con-trick noted here, remunerative. The skewed spelling must be attributed to the author’s personal peccadillo. It would take a further 121 years for it to reappear.






GDoS Update #11 July 31 2019


Welcome to the eleventh and latest update of the online version of Green’s Dictionary of Slang.


As ever, some statistics: research (somewhat limited by external priorities) over the last three months has added 199 new slang terms, the majority from the last few years; 216 entries have been predated as to their currently recorded ‘first use’ and  new citations – including ante-dates, inter-dates and post-dates to reflect the continuing use of many terms –  have been uploaded. In all there are 2463 new citations, appearing under 1510 headwords. In total the database currently offers 55,261 headwords (within which are nested over 135,000 discrete words and phrases, underpinned by just over 650,000 citations). All this material is on offer to every user.


For an overview, with the fruits of the last quarter’s research in chronological order, all users of the dictionary can go here.This uses the same software as the Timelines of Slang. New terms are marked in red, ante-dates in blue. As pionered in recent updates, the format has been improved: entries now link to the specific part of an entry, its sense and where pertinent its homonym number. Unfortunately the software does not permit click-through access (this is in development) , but users will be able to see at once which part of an entry has improved.


While a good proportion of the new material comes from recent publications, typically The Border (2019) the final volume of Don Winslow’s epic treatment of the Central and North American drug trade, the dictionary has also benefited hugely from the generosity of Phil Virta, publisher in charge of Gale’s Archives of Sexuality & Gender. These archives, which comprise material from the British Library’s Private Case, the New York Public Library and the Kinsey Report offer many primary sources, from 1690 to 1940, both fiction and non-fiction, that lie behind the history of sexuality. The material is available through many libraries and institutions but not, or not easily, for the independent researcher. My tweet to this end was picked up at Gale and three month free access was given me. I am hugely grateful.


The resource is wide-ranging, but not everything offers useful pickings. One must pick and choose and trust to one’s judgement to spot the plums. Of the titles I have opened, around 70 have been worth further research. The first being Pleasant quippes for upstart newfangled gentlewomen by S. Gosson (1596) and the last the collection of Limericks (1959) published by ‘Count Palamiro Vicarion’ (i.e. the British poet Christopher Logue) in his days hacking for Maurice Girodias’ Olympia Press. The bulk of the material focuses on the 18th and 19th centuries. Among the most productive titles have been two 1732 ‘‘novelisations’ of Hogarth’s similarly named series of engravings, The Harlot’s Progress (31 examples) and The Progress of a Rake (27) and The Honest Fellow, or Reveller’s Bemorandum Book (1790) by ‘Bumper Allnight, Esquire’ (106).


London being the contemporary ‘sin city’ the guidebook format was always popular: ostensibly promoting security for the visiting unwary, it offered a little soft porn in its rambling into bordellos and boudoirs, and some tips as to criminal ‘cant’. Whether such titles kept out-of-towners’ purses not to mention bodies untainted, is unknown. Titles include The Tricks of the Town Laid Open; or, A companion for country gentlemen (1755) (23), Low-life; or, One half of the world, knows not how the other half live (1764) (11), The Midnight Spy: or, A view of the transactions of London and Westminster from the hours of ten in the evening, till five in the morning (1766) (10) and Midnight Scenes and Social Photographs (1858) by ‘Shadow’ (16). Collections of ‘drolleries’  —  ballads, poems, anecdotes and the like  —  had a ready market. The Dictionary has already drawn on a number; this research has added material from The Bacchanalian Magazine (1793) (79), Hilaria. The Festive Board (1798) (64) and Cythera’s Hymnal; or, flakes from the foreskin: A collection of songs, poems, nursery rhymes, quiddities, etc., etc. never before published (1870) (79). The Honest Fellow is another of the genre.


The sexual memoir also has a role to play. Purportedly confessional and revelatory, more likely one more variety of titillatory make-believe, productive titles include ‘Experiences of a Cunt Philosopher’ (1884) in Randiana (24), ‘Lais Lovecock, containing the adventures of Miss Lais Lovecock, written by herself, etc.’ included in The  Bagnio Miscellany (1892) (24), ‘Suzan Aked’ The Simple Tale of Suzan Aked (1898 and a title best spoken aloud) (16) and The Memoirs of Madge Buford, a modern Fanny Hill (1902) by D. St John (72).


Then of course there is unalloyed porn. Crissie. A music-hall sketch of to-day (1899) (38) may, as an advertisement claimed, have been ‘evidently drawn from the life’: its titular heroine was allegedly the wife of a printer employed by the pornographer Leonard Smithers, but the back-story was irrelevant. What mattered was that ‘the whole work is very obscene.’ Two popular contemporaries were the pseudonymous ‘Ramrod’ (slang for penis) who in 1900 offered The Nocturnal Meeting (79) and Family Connections (19) and the wholly visible G.R. (Reginald) Bacchus whose works included Nemesis Hunt (1902, presumably a piece of smutty rhyming slang), Pleasure Bound ‘Afloat’ (1908) Maudie (1908) and Pleasure Bound ‘Ashore’ – all starring the same sexually self-indulgent cast-list and good for 40 terms between them. Bacchus (1873-1945) dropped out of Oxford and worked as a freelance arts reviewer before gravitating into the world of Leonard Smithers, both pornographer and publisher of such exotics as Aubrey Beardsley. The writer also pursued a double life, mixing his smutty outpourings with what Jack Smithers, son of Leonard, recalled as as ‘the most goody-goody stories for a prominent religious weekly’.


Perhaps the most intersting find of all is not, other than in its sharing of a number of popular obscenities, a piece of pornography but The German Prisoner (1930) by the British novelist James Hanley (29). Far tougher both in its imagery and its vocabulary than better-known chronicles of World War I such as Goodbye to All That or the punningly titled  Her Privates We, Hanley’s novella was printed privately and, like another of the author’s books, Boy, duly banned. Among its slang terms are backscuttle, bugger all, fuck you! johnny rollocks, shithouse and sodding. The trenches had been tough, but its language, doubtless extreme in situ, had usually been left where it fell.


Update #10: 30 April 2019


Welcome to the tenth and latest update of the online version of Green’s Dictionary of Slang.


As ever, some statistics: research over the last three months has added 265 new slang terms, the majority from the last few years; 135 entries have been predated as to their currently recorded ‘first use’ and  new citations – including ante-dates, inter-dates and post-dates to reflect the continuing use of many terms –  have been uploaded. In all there are 2329 new citations, appearing under 1565 headwords. In total the database currently offers 55,213 headwords (within which are nested over 133,000 discrete words and phrases, underpinned by approximately 640,000 citations). All this material is on offer to every user.


For an overview, with the fruits of the last quarter’s research in chronological order, all users of the dictionary can go here.This uses the same software as the Timelines of Slang. New terms are marked in red, ante-dates in blue. As pionered in recent updates, the format has been improved: entries now link to the specific part of an entry, its sense and where pertinent its homonym number. Unfortunately the software does not permit click-through access (this is in development) , but users will be able to see at once which part of an entry has improved.


As usual the research has focused largely on newspaper databases, notably those held by the British Library, the US Library of Congress and, for Australia, Trove. These, by their nature, tend to look backwards in time, but there is also an on-going accretion of up-to-date slang. Individual ‘contributors’ include four more works by the late Robert G. Barrett, a hugely popular Australian author and creator of his hero Les Norton, two from America’s Stephen Mack Jones (August Snow and Lives Laid Away), Nico Walker’s Cherry and from Joe Lansdale (best know for his Hap and Leonard stories) Leather Maiden. Older texts include the prolific Nina Wilcox Putnam’s West Broadway and from journalist and scriptwriter Ben Hecht (celebrated for the play, latterly movie The Front Page) A Thousand and One Afternoons, a selection of his columns in the Chicago press. Plain or Ringlets, another novel by Robert Surtees, already well represented, adds to his world of rural society and the fox-hunting it enjoys. Finally, the late 17th century’s pleasingly titled Catalogue of Jilts, cracks, prostitutes, night-walkers…and others of the linnen-lifting tribe.


The primary single contribution comes from contributing editor James Lambert who has looked more extensively than any other researcher at the multiplicity of terms that have been created around Australia’s bogan, a socially derided class which in local terms is the current synonym for the earlier hoon or ocker, and in the wider world, of the chav. The full entries, with usage examples, are to be found here, but for those who would enjoy a summation we can offer the following:


■ anti-bogan adj. antagonistic towards bogans or the bogan lifestyle; not bogan in style or manner. ■ boganacious adj. bogan to an extreme extent, i.e. ‘bodaciously bogan’. ■ boganaire n. [bogan + SE millionaire] a very wealthy bogan, also attrib. ■ boganalian adj. [bogan + Australia] in context of Australia conceived of as a land of bogans. ■ boganality n. bogan behaviour and mentality; ‘bogan-ness’. ■ Boganator n. a fantasy super-robot which has the characteristics of the bogan and Hollywood’s Terminator; used to identify as an uber-bogan to satirise bogan lifestyles; also attrib. ■ bogandom n. the world of bogans; bogans collectively. ■ boganese n. the highly colloquial and slangy style of speech used by bogans. ■ boganesque adj.bogan-like; somewhat bogan. ■ boganette n. a female bogan. ■ boganfest n. an event at which many bogans are present; also attrib. ■ boganfy v. to imbue with bogan-ness. ■ boganhood n. the state or quality of being a bogan. ■ boganic adj. bogan in nature, bogan-like. ■ boganify v. to imbue with bogan-ness; to stereotype as a bogan. ■ boganification n. the process of rendering a place or person characteristic of a bogan mentality or style. ■ boganise v. to imbue with bogan-ness, e.g. in customizing an automobile, thus boganised. ■ boganisation n. imbuing with bogan values and styles. ■ boganish adj. casual, unfocussed. ■ boganism n. bogan behaviour, the bogan aesthetic. ■ boganista n. [bogan + fashionista] a ‘fashionable’ and/or glamorous female bogan; also attrib. ■ boganistan n. a notional place that is primarily inhabited by those who qualify as bogans. ■ boganistic adj. bogan in nature, bogan-like; thus boganistical, boganistically. ■ boganite n. var. on bogan. ■ boganitis n. a mythical ‘disease’ whereby the bogan aesthetic is communicable to the unwary. ■ boganity n. the state of being a bogan; bogan-ness. ■ Boganland n. Australia; any area with a high population density of bogans. ■ boganless adj. free of bogans. ■ boganmobile n. any vehicle favoured by bogans, especially a customized classic Australian car. ■ boganness n. the state of being a bogan. ■ boganing n. behaving like a bogan. ■ boganocracy n. bogans as a political force or ruling power. ■ boganology n. often joc. the academic study of bogans or boganness; thus adj. boganological, boganologist. ■ boganophile n. one who loves bogans; thus boganophilia. ■ boganophobe n. (also boganophobic) one who is (irrationally) hostile towards bogans; thus boganophobia, n. hostility towards bogans, boganophobicadj. hostile towards bogans. ■ boganopolis n. any place with a high population density of bogans. ■ boganosity n. (also boganocity) the bogan aesthetic; the essence of bogan behaviour. ■ boganry n. bogan behaviour, the bogan lifestyle. ■ Boganville n. (also Bogansville) a major agglomeration of bogans, sometimes applied to an entire town or city. ■ Boganvillean.(also Boganvillia, Boganvilia Street) [pun on Bougainvillea, a common garden creeper] a var. of previous, a major agglomeration of bogans, sometimes applied to an entire town or city, thus boganvillian. ■ bogany adj. bogan in nature; typical of a bogan. ■ brogan n. [bro + bogan] a fellow bogan; a bogan who is a brother or a ‘bro’; a sibling who is a bogan. ■ fauxgan n. [Fr. faux, false/fake + bogan] a phony bogan, usu. middle or upper-middle class; one who merely pretends to the type.
In compounds:
□ bogan army n. a large gathering or group of bogans, e,.g. as football fans; bogans as a social unit. □ bogan band n. any music group, especially hard rock or Oz rock, traditionally favoured by bogans. □ bogan boy n. a young male bogan; a demeaning ad hoc nickname for someone behaving like a bogan. □ bogan brew n. any type of beer favoured by bogans, especially traditional Australian mass-produced lagers. □ bogan central n. a place with a high population density of bogans. □ bogan champagne n. one of a variety of drinks, typically inexpensive and sugary, favoured by bogans. □ bogan chariot n. any vehicle make or type stereotyped as being driven by bogans. □ bogan chic n. bogan style or fashion of choice. □ bogan chick n. a female bogan. □ bogan city n. a city or town with a high population density of bogans; a fig. ‘city of bogans’. □ Bogan Day n. 1  a fictional day on which boganism is celebrated. 2  Australia Day (26th January). □ bogan dust n. 1  (also the bogans) any narcotic or recreational drug that comes in powder form, esp. methamphetamine (rather than the more expensive cocaine). 2  small pieces of broken glass that accumulate on the side of a road or highway [the assumption being that these are from broken bottles tossed out of vehicles]. 3 (also BD) instant coffee. □ bogan girl n. a female bogan. □ bogan heaven n. any place especially loved by bogans. □ bogan juice n. any drink favoured by bogans, e.g. bourbon whiskey and coca-cola. □ bogan magnet n. a place or event that attracts bogans. □ bogan name n. a given name considered indicative of the parents’ bogan lifestyle; typically with unconventional spelling, and often a surname used as a first name. □ bogan slogan n. an expression, aphorism, motto, or the like, expressing bogan sentiments or attitudes, often found as a tattoo. □ ex-bogan n. a person who used to be a bogan; one who eschews their former bogan identity. □ inner bogan n. a bogan personality that resides within all Australians whether externally noticeable or not. □ non-bogan n. one who does not espouse bogan values. Finally □ Violent Bogan, n. one of the multiple alternatives for Victoria Bitter beer.
In phrases:
■ bogan it up v. to behave or act as a bogan. ■ bogan-spot v. (also bogan-watch) to spend one’s leisure time watching bogans, thus bogan-spotting. ■ bogan up vtr. to customize or decorate a vehicle in a manner that appeals to bogans. 2  vi. to adopt the persona and/or dress of a bogan. ■ cashed-up bogan n. (also CUB) (Aus.) a uncultured but well-off individual who spends money on bad taste, trashy, gaudy merchandise. ■ de-bogan v. to purge oneself or another of bogan style or influence. ■ out-bogan v. to outdo another bogan in one’s own boganness.

January 2018 Update & Hero of Slang 7: Edward Bradley

Welcome to the fifth and latest update to the online version of Green’s Dictionary of Slang, the first to appear in what is now the second year of the  dictionary’s life as a website.


As ever, some statistics: research over the last three months has added 294 new slang terms, 376 entries have been predated as to their currently recorded ‘first use’ and nearly 3,300 citations – including ante-dates, inter-dates and post-dates to reflect the continuing use of many terms –  have been uploaded. The database currently offers 54,791 headwords (within which are nested over 133,000 discrete words and phrases, underpinned by a total of 630,000 citations). All of this new material can be seen by subscribers; the changes that are reflected by the predates  are also shown in alterations in the approximate dating used in the absence of citations: for instance ‘late 19C’ to ‘early 19C’, ‘1980s+’ back to ‘1940s+’, and so on. But as ever, for those who want or need to access the detailed heart of the data, we have to recommend a subscription.


For an overview, in chronological order, all users of the dictionary can go here. This uses the same software as the Timelines of Slang. As usual the research has focused largely on newspaper databases, notably that held by the British Library, the US Library of Congress and, for Australia, Trove. These, by their nature, tend to look backwards in time, but there is also an on-going accretion of up-to-date slang.


New terms are marked in red, ante-dates in blue. The format has been improved: entries now link to the specific part of an entry, its sense and where pertinent its homonym number. Unfortunately the software does not permit click-through access (this is in development) , but users will be able to see which part of an entry has improved.




Given the lack of focus on a single area of slang over the past quarter, I offer in place of my usual disquisition, Hero of Slang 7 (slightly augmented from the original version as published on line by the Dabbler in 2011). In this case the star is the Reverend Edward Bradley, best-known by his literary pseudonym ‘Cuthbert Bede’.