beamish boy

Some Wodehousian forms of address

If you’re lacking ideas how to call your family and friends, you may try these:

  • “old thing”,
  • “old egg”,
  • “old fruit”,
  • “my little chickadee”,
  • “you old ass”,
  • “my fluttering old aspen”,
  • “my dear old mysterious hinter”,
  • “old fever patient”,
  • “old ancestor”,
  • “old thicker than water”,
  • “old flesh and blood”,
  • “(my dear) old relative”,
  • “my dear old faulty reasoner”,
  • “you poor chump”,
  • “my poor lamb”,
  • “my misguided old object”,
  • “you ghastly goggle-eyed piece of gorgonzola”,
  • “face”,
  • “ugly”,
  • “aged relative”,
  • “you young blot”,
  • “my beamish boy”,
  • “old blood relation”,
  • “you abysmal chump”,
  • “Lord Spodecup” (instead of “Lord Sidcup”),
  • “my (beautiful) bounding Bertie”,
  • “you young hellhound”,
  • “you revolting object”,
  • “you young muttonhead”,
  • “my dear old police sergeant”,
  • “poor ditherer”,
  • “Attila”,
  • “Watson”.
Jabbercoffee

‘Twas frothy, and the slithy beans
    Did grind and trimble in the shabe;
All mimsy were the ice-o-treens,
    And the tea bags outgrabe. 

“Beware the Barista, my son
    The beard that waves, avuncular!
Beware the Managers, and shun
    The frumious customer!”

He took his vorpal wallet in hand;
    Long time the manxome cup he sought—
So rested he on a stool by the window,
    And sat awhile in thought.

And, as in uffish thought he sat,
    The Barista, with apron of flame,
Came sniffling through the trambly pat,
    And burbled as it came!

Mocha! Latte! And swiftly there
    The vorpal wallet produced a bill!
He ordered three, with such great speed,
    It left the server dead.

“And hast thou slain the Barista?
    Come to my arms, my beamish boy!
O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!”
    He chortled in his joy.

‘Twas frothy, and the slithy beans
    Did grind and trimble in the shabe;
All mimsy were the ice-o-treens,
    And the tea bags outgrabe.

dailymotion

Benedict Cumberbatch reads
Jabberwocky
by Lewis Carroll (1832-1898)

‘Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe;
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.

“Beware the Jabberwock, my son!
The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!
Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun
The frumious Bandersnatch!”

He took his vorpal sword in hand;
Long time the manxome foe he sought —
So rested he by the Tumtum tree,
And stood awhile in thought.

And, as in uffish thought he stood,
The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame,
Came whiffling through the tulgey wood,
And burbled as it came!

One, two! One, two! And through and through
The vorpal blade went snicker-snack!
He left it dead, and with its head
He went galumphing back.

“And hast thou slain the Jabberwock?
Come to my arms, my beamish boy!
O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!”
He chortled in his joy.

‘Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe;
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.

10

JABBERWOCKY
Lewis Carroll
(from Through the Looking-Glass and What Alice Found There, 1872)

`Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe;
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.

“Beware the Jabberwock, my son!
The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!
Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun
The frumious Bandersnatch!”

He took his vorpal sword in hand:
Long time the manxome foe he sought –
So rested he by the Tumtum tree,
And stood awhile in thought.

And, as in uffish thought he stood,
The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame,
Came whiffling through the tulgey wood,
And burbled as it came!

One, two! One, two! And through and through
The vorpal blade went snicker-snack!
He left it dead, and with its head
He went galumphing back.

“And, has thou slain the Jabberwock?
Come to my arms, my beamish boy!
O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!’
He chortled in his joy.

`Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe;
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.


Fargo, S02E06 “Rhinoceros”

There’s a slinky swagger and swooning aplomb to DAUNT’s new song, Beamish Boy, which comes as no surprise considering what we’ve heard from the emerging talent from London so far. His soulful alt pop is muggy and sensual, limber and lithesome, like a combination of Fyfe with Glass Animals with a touch of bluesy rock. For more of DAUNT’s bewitching music, head over to Soundcloud.

Made with SoundCloud
  • me, being slowly crushed under the weight of my thousands of adopted fictional sons: ah yes, another perfect son who may not need my eternal love and protection but is getting it anyway, come to my arms my beamish boy