An awkward, bumbling bloke who hasn't quite yet decided whether he is a goth or a chav. He wears goth t-shirts, but has a dodgy hairstyle - half cropped half spiked - and secretly wears trainers at home!
Although he loves Buahaha, he can't resist sneaking in the odd DJ Sweetie track on his white i-pod.
Although he loves Buahaha, he can't resist sneaking in the odd DJ Sweetie track on his white i-pod.
Mum: Are you going out tonight, love?
Chavigoth: Yeah. I mean, yah!
Mum: Where will you be going, sweetie.
Chavigoth: Maccy D's. I mean, the Death Midnight Club!
Chavigoth: Yeah. I mean, yah!
Mum: Where will you be going, sweetie.
Chavigoth: Maccy D's. I mean, the Death Midnight Club!
by chris firth September 15, 2006
A tranquil time of being blasted, blitzed, drunk, stoned or tripped out without any negative awareness of external social, political or moral intrusions. No bad vibes intrude into the space hour mood. It need not be an actual hour of real time - it could be a few minutes euphoria on crack or metaamphets., or a whole life time just spliffed out from dusk till dawn in front of Nature, a TV or games console.
1. Nothing gets me in my space hour, baby.
2. Traveller: How long have you been sitting here wasted beneath this tree?
Bhuddist Hippy: Oh, all my life. Just a space hour, man.
2. Traveller: How long have you been sitting here wasted beneath this tree?
Bhuddist Hippy: Oh, all my life. Just a space hour, man.
by chris firth September 12, 2006
An excellent experience, usuaslly induced by music, especially skiffle music where the T-chest bass sound induces euphoria.
by chris firth October 04, 2006
After Branwell Bronte.
Yorkshire slang for an intellecual, drug addled, boozed-up waster, (of which there are many here) or one with pretentions of being such - after the infamous opium guzzling brother of the Bronte sisters, who allegedy wrote the novel 'Wuthering Heights but was too wrecked to notice that his sister published it under her name!
Yorkshire slang for an intellecual, drug addled, boozed-up waster, (of which there are many here) or one with pretentions of being such - after the infamous opium guzzling brother of the Bronte sisters, who allegedy wrote the novel 'Wuthering Heights but was too wrecked to notice that his sister published it under her name!
(Two old mates meet in a chance encounter at the bar)
Jim-bob: Yo, Marmaduke. How ya doing?
Marmaduke: Hey, I'm fine mate. How's your Ralph?
Jim-bob: Ah, he's always mashed and on the lash these days.
Marmaduke: Yeah, I heard he's turned into a bit of a Branwell.
Jim-bob: Yo, Marmaduke. How ya doing?
Marmaduke: Hey, I'm fine mate. How's your Ralph?
Jim-bob: Ah, he's always mashed and on the lash these days.
Marmaduke: Yeah, I heard he's turned into a bit of a Branwell.
by chris firth January 22, 2007
Easy, no trouble, no stress, simple as can be.
Derived in Yorkshire from the kid slang: easy peasy, lemon squeezy. Ie Lemon pip (seed) - pipsicale - pipsy. Currently in use with 11\12 year olds, who claim its old coinage, at least 2 years old.
Derived in Yorkshire from the kid slang: easy peasy, lemon squeezy. Ie Lemon pip (seed) - pipsicale - pipsy. Currently in use with 11\12 year olds, who claim its old coinage, at least 2 years old.
Teacher: You can now begin the test. Turn over your papers.
(A pause of vocal silence and paper rustling, followed by the sniff of the precosious kid at the front)
Precosious kid: This test is pipsy. I'll get 100 per cent.
(A pause of vocal silence and paper rustling, followed by the sniff of the precosious kid at the front)
Precosious kid: This test is pipsy. I'll get 100 per cent.
by chris firth September 23, 2006
A public washhouse, ie laundrette, where goths without washing machines at home go to wash their clothes.
Gothdrettes only have 'dark wash' facilities, and are open from 11.55pm to 4.55am.
Gothdrettes only have 'dark wash' facilities, and are open from 11.55pm to 4.55am.
Lady Goth: Phew! You smell slightly. Too much petulia!
Smelly Man Goth: Yeah, I know. Sorry. I'm putting all my gear into a bin bag and going to the gothdrette at midnight.
Lay Goth: You putting in your boots??!!
Smelly Man Goth: Don't get dark. No one puts their heels in the gothdrette machines. They come out like death warmed up!
Smelly Man Goth: Yeah, I know. Sorry. I'm putting all my gear into a bin bag and going to the gothdrette at midnight.
Lay Goth: You putting in your boots??!!
Smelly Man Goth: Don't get dark. No one puts their heels in the gothdrette machines. They come out like death warmed up!
by chris firth September 15, 2006
Yorkshire for an intellecual, drug addled, boozed-up waster, (of which there are many here) or one with pretentions of being such - after the infamous opium guzzling brother of the Bronte sisters, who allegedy wrote the novel 'Wuthering Heights but was too wrecked to notice that his sister published it under her name!
(Two old mates meet in a chance encounter at the bar)
Jim-bob: Yo, Marmaduke. How ya doing?
Marmaduke: Hey, I'm fine mate. How's your Ralph?
Jim-bob: Ah, he's always mashed and on the lash these days.
Marmaduke: Yeah, I heard he's turned into a bit of a Branwell Bronte.
Jim-bob: Yo, Marmaduke. How ya doing?
Marmaduke: Hey, I'm fine mate. How's your Ralph?
Jim-bob: Ah, he's always mashed and on the lash these days.
Marmaduke: Yeah, I heard he's turned into a bit of a Branwell Bronte.
by chris firth January 15, 2007