“Oh no! Tom just pushed his Tweedle down the apples!” You probably don’t know what any of that means, but someone from London might. I’m in London (The Grumpy Apple,) and after infiltrating my local shop, several pubs, and a dog track, I can now confirm that the people of London really do have a secret language. In Cockney Rhyming Slang, a word, typically the second in a two-word phrase, is replaced by a rhyming one. In the above example “Tweedle” is short for “Tweedle Dum”— mum, and “apples” is short for “apple ‘n’ pears”—stairs. Tom has only gone and pushed his Mum down the stairs! What a character. And these are just two out of a million phrases designed to spin your Tonies (Tony Blairs—ears.) Here are some facts about Cockney Rhyming Slang:
1. Cockney Rhyming Slang is a cryptolect invented in the 19th Century by London merchants to confuse their wives.
2. Cockney Rhyming Slang was the earliest form of Rap, probably.
3. During the war the British Secret Service used “Slangers” to talk bollocks on the radio to confuse and annoy the Germans. This is where the term “Wind talkers” comes from.
4. The only other culture to speak in Rhyming slang was the Ewoks (“Yub-jub” — grub).
5. EVERYONE in London speaks it, from Stephen Hawking—“People should not be scared of Hadron Colliders” (spiders)—to the PM—“When we said Iraq had WMDs, we may have been talking Jacksons (Jackson Pollocks—bollocks). Even the Queen. Just have a butcher’s at this excerpt from her last Christmas address:
“It has been a challenging ginger beer (year) for all. Hard working people are boracic (boracic lint—skint), children are brandishing Derek and Clives (knives), and innocent people are ending up Dodi Al-Fayed (dead). Frankly, if I didn’t have Vera Lynn (gin) I don’t know what I’d do.”
Based on the success of the British model I am proposing our own version, a Kiwi Rhyming Slang, if you will. Here’s a few phrases to get us started:
Fish and chips — Lips. Buzzy bees — Knees. Mince and cheese pies — Eyes. John Campbell — Ramble. Tame Iti—Treaty/Sweety. Khyber Pass—Arse. Sir Ed—dead. John Banks — Skanks. Coutts and Butters — Nutters. Cab-merlot—Blow. Don Brash — Cash.
Now let’s move onto some lessons where we see KRS used in common situations. Read each lesson and then practice it with your family co-workers.
Lesson One: on the farm. Geoff is telling his wife, Sheila, about his difficult day.
Geoff: So I took the Krypton (Krypton Factor—tractor) down the Murray (Murray McCully—gully) to pull a Bo-peep out of the Dawson’s (creek).
Sheila: Sure.
Geoff: But I forgot to bring a Benson (Benson Pope – rope).
Sheila: Common farming mistake.
Geoff: Yeah, so I tried doing it by hand. Got kicked in the Hudsons (Hudson and Halls).
Sheila: Weren’t using your Vogels (Vogels bread—head) were you.
Geoff: No.
Sheila: Where are your clothes?
Lesson Two: at a popular Wellington bar. John is meeting Simon for a drink.
John: Sorry I'm ladies (ladies a plate —late,) the heavens (heaven forbids—kids) caught Pineapples (Pineapple Lumps—mumps) so I had to take them off to the Michael (Mike Proctor—doctor). Frankly, they’ve been driving me round the Rainbow’s (Rainbow’s End—bend).
Simon: Oh dear. Buy you a beer?
John: Yeah, can you get me a Nelson (Nelson Mandella—Stella) while I go for a Melissa Lee (Wee)?
Simon: Sure. Two Nelsons thanks mate.
See how easy it is? Once you master these basic lessons you’ll be ready to use Kiwi Rhyming Slang in a variety of situations, at a wedding …
“Dearly beloved, we are gathered in this Bill Birch so that Jonathan and Britney can be Hillary Barried (Married). If you can just stay awake for 15 minutes we can all have some Sir Peter (Sir Peter Blake—cake) and drink until we can't feel our Laurie Mains (brains).”
Or reading the news …
Simon Dallow: “In the wees-and-poohs this hour: the Government moves to tax pollution despite opposition from Huntley and Palmers (farmers), naked John Banks invade pitch at All Blacks test, and the East Coast suffers record Marties (Marty Drysdale—gale). Officials have declared the area a Registered Master (Disaster).
Now, I can see obvious complications. What if you ask a friend if she can get you a cab? You’d either be asking her to get you an actual taxi cab, or you’d be asking her for a cab-merlot—blow. This could either turn out to be very embarrassing, or very awesome. But these are issues that can be ironed out over time. If you have ideas for terms for our new national language, please send them to ... kiwirhymingslang@googlemail.com and I’ll forward them to the appropriate Government agency. With a bit of imagination and a lot of practice we’ll soon all be speaking Khyber.
