Lost in translation: Slang - Welsh V English

When I came to university in England I realised how different and confusing slang could become. I feel I've almost grasped all of it now but I still get a dodgy look every now and again.

I've decided to compile a list of translations to show you lot how bloody confusing your life can become when you have lived in Wales most of your life.

I will include words and phrases which I thought were English but when I say them people look at me like I'm a witch.

Welsh -English

Scram- Scratch with malicious intent

Pile on- Bundle (?!)

Meathead -Hench

Butt -Pal/Mate/Chum

Nos Da - Night Night

Hwyl (H-oil) -Bye

Pam ? -Why?

Now in a minute -Soon

Yachi Da! -Cheers/bottoms-up/chink chink.

Ych-y-fi -Gross

Where to?- Where (the to has no use)

Bangen -Awesome

Steaming Weasels- Drunk skanks

I'm sure there's more and I will add them in due time.

That's all for now

Jojo xxx

Easter = Brawls re: TOWIE

Wow it’s been a while since I’ve had a post out. It’s been such a crazy few weeks with work and adventures and visits.

I’m currently sitting on a train from Tenby to Bournemouth, and since it’s on track to take me almost eight hours I’ve been tackling some uni work and made some semi-productive lists. Being back in Pembrokeshire was so nice even though it was short lived.

I trekked down in aid of my dear pal Jane’s 20th birthday. Birthdays are the rare occasions when us girls are all pulled together in one place for a night or so to cause some havoc. And Saturday was no exception.

I arrived at Jane’s at around half 8 and we promptly got a taxi to the pub to have some pre-birthday-meal drinks. This portion of the evening is for general catch ups and taking the piss out of each others lives/accents/outfits.

Next we headed to the notorious Kook-a-ba, our favourite restaurant (and the thing I miss the most when I’m back in uni, sorry pals.) where we all ate man sized meals of steaks and ribs with wine.

We immediately got ourselves into a bit of bother when we started the mandatory gossip catch-up on old school friends who are caught up in scandal. Unfortunately the table behind us were relatives of said scandal members and we were politely told to keep it zipped. Cringe-o-rama.

Lucie, a particularly indignant pal of mine was not impressed and in a drink-fuelled state began claiming how her whole night was ruined and that she refused to come out because some arse hole on the next table had been rude. All that changed of course when we got taxis and all seven of us jumbled in the cars with an entire field of livestock in our guts.

Tenby was awesome; it was so busy and with all the right people in my opinion. It was like our entire school year had gathered in a subconscious reunion (only the good ones though) and I felt truly at home again. It was warm outside, my feet didn’t hurt and no-one tried to force shots on me. Hurrah!

We went to POW/Prince of Wales/Prince of Darkness/ Pile of Wank and it was so hot I swear my clothes were wet with sweat and my only thoughts were to get to the bar to re-hydrate/ hi-jack the ice machine. The no windows, no air-con combination must be a business stint and the staff must have ice packs in their undies or have been trained in torture chambers to be able to just stay alive in such humidity and stench.

After chuck out at POW we went on a rampage of jumping on peoples backs, crazy dancing, head banging and general zoo-esque behaviour before heading to the taxi office.

Uh-oh...

The taxi rank was a perfectly peaceful place when we arrived but within ten minutes I was asked by a man if ‘they’ were my friends, I turned around to see the girls in what can only be described as a brawl that resembled a washing machine. There were people leaping about and throwing fists, shoes flying off and hair being pulled in a space no bigger than a disabled toilet cubicle.

Before I could really work out what was going on Alys proceeded to rip a girl’s tee shirt off in a way that meant it could never be worn again. So, all my friends, two men and one girl with her tits out were all flailing around in a sea of screams and limbs right before my eyes.

The taxi-rank guy looked extremely harassed himself and soon the police had arrived; dawdling around not really doing anything as usual. Seriously, Pembrokeshire police well and truly deserve their reputation for being shite. People were asking to make statements as it transcribed that the girls were talking about The Only Way is Essex when boob girl pounced, assuming it was an insult (she’s from Essex).

The po-po (I’ve always wanted to say that but can’t pull it off in person) were sort of ignoring requests and sending people on their way. What the friggin’ hell was the point of them being there? To look like a fat hen night in un-slutty uniform outfits? If so then I would like to congratulate them on their success.

All in all a perfectly dysfunctional, yet entirely characteristic night out with my best pals. To everyone involved I salute you.

Here’s to the next one xxx