Thursday, July 30, 2015

Electile Dysfunction

Deconstructing the Political E.D.: electile dysfunctionality


Howard Richler

Anyday now, the writ will be dropped in Canada. Prime Minister Stephen Harper will advise the Governor-General David Johnston to dissolve Parliament. Johnston will then issue a writ of election for a new Parliament and the federal election season will commence. Actually, no writ is dropped ; writs of election are issued, and the sense of drop is idiomatic as in “drop a line” or “drop in.” The term “drop the writ” is a corruption of “draw up the writ” and in 2005 the CBC issued a style memorandum to journalists advising them not to drop the drop the writ phrase but being more colourful than the “correct” term, it has endured.

An electoral term with a surprising origin is “riding.” Only in Canada is an electoral district referred to by this term but we have to look to Yorkshire, England for the word's provenance. One would suppose that the term has something to do with the verb “to ride” but such is not the case. Until 1974, Yorkshire was divided for administrative purposes into three ridings and the key word here is “three.” The word riding came into English in the 15th century from Old Norse thrithjungr, “third part” and was originally rendered in English as “trithing.”

Just as “riding” is not connected to “ride” the word candidate is not related to the candid nature of those seeking office. If candidates were etymologically correct, they would wear white clothes as the word derives from the Latin candidatus, “dressed in white.” In ancient Rome is was the custom for those standing for election in the Senate to don white togas probably in an attempt to convince the populace they were as pure as snow.

Another word that only appears during an election is “hustings,” and as we know candidates are prone to hitting them during campaigns. The Canadian Oxford Dictionary defines “hustings” as “The political campaigning leading up to an election, e.g., canvassing votes and making speeches.” The word was originally rendered in the singular and literally means “house thing” but “thing” originally had the sense of “meeting” or “assembly,” and these council meetings would be called by a lord or king and attended by his particular “house.” Over time “husting” acquired other specific meanings such as a court of law in the Guildhall in London and a platform on which candidates stood to address the electorate. In the 20th century “hustings” has come to refer to the general hullabaloo created during an election campaign.

When you cast your ballot, you might take solace that although riding doesn't derive from ride, ballot does come from “ball” as we borrowed the word from the Italian ballotta, “little ball.” In days of yore, people often voted by dropping little balls into a receptacle. The first OED citation of the word in 1561 states: “Boxes into whiche if he wyll, he may let fall his ballot, that no man can perceiue hym.” Related to “ballot” is the idea that since a white ball often meant a “yes” vote and a black ball designated a “no” vote, the term blackball came to refer to exclusion from a club in the late 18th century.

By the way, if you happen to believe that politicians are crooks, it might be because you somehow intuited that etymologically the word “Tory” is associated with thievery. According to the OED, the original sense of Tory, “In the 17th century, {was} one of the dispossessed Irish, who became outlaws, subsisting by plundering and killing the English settlers and soldiers.” Lest you find this anti-Irish, you can take small comfort from knowing that the OED points out that within a decade the word's banditry label was extended to other races, such as Scottish Highlanders. It quickly became a term to refer to any Irish Papist and by the middle of the seventeenth century the word was often used by British commentators as a synonym for “bandit.” Through a process of major political flip-flopping over the years, this term originally referring to brigands came to refer to those who vigorously supported the Crown.

Now that you're lexically prepared, don't neglect to follow the dropping of the writ and vote for the candidate in your riding by dropping the ball for the party who might be Tory, but certainly doesn't harbour bandits ( with the possible exception of a handful of Senators).

Howard Richler's book Word Play: Arranged & Deranged Wit will be published in 2016.

Monday, July 6, 2015

How Hot Dog Got Its Name

On July 4 the attention of all gourmands will be turned to the most All-American of all sporting competitions. I speak, of course, about Nathan’s Hot-Dog Eating Contest held annually on Coney Island, New York. Legend states that on July 4, 1916 four immigrants partook in a hot dog eating contest at Nathan’s Famous stand on Coney Island to settle a dispute as to which of the voracious gentlemen were most patriotic to their adopted land. Last year, American Joey “Jaws” Chestnut won his eighth consecutive title by consuming 62 hot dogs and buns in 10 minutes. More than 40,000 spectators attended this cholesterol-imbibing orgy.

As we approaching the dog days of summer and this momentous event, this is a good time to discuss the origin of one of the most quintessential American words — hot dog.
Lore has it that in 1900 sports cartoonist Thomas Aloysius “Tad” Dorgan was ingesting a sausage at the New York Polo Grounds, the baseball Giants’ home park. Since there had been rumours that canine meat was prevalent in the sausages, he dubbed his bunned lunch “hot dog.” His subsequent caricature of a dachshund on a bun got the goat of the Coney Island Chamber of Commerce, which instituted a policy of banning the term “hot dog” by concessionaires — insisting instead on the use of PC terms such as “Coney Islands,” “red hots” or “frankfurters.” The Dorgan etymology has been repeated by many language writers including Bill Bryson in Made in America.

There are, however, some problems with this account. Dorgan was working in San Francisco in 1900 and did not move to New York until 1903. Also, no one has uncovered the Dorgan cartoon in question. He did, however, sketch some “hot dog” cartoons in 1906 from a bicycle race in Madison Square Gardens. All this suggests that the traditional etymology is apocryphal.
Sausages have fallen in price one half, since the dog killers have commenced operations
The first printed references to “hot dog” occur in the 1890s. On Sept 28, 1893, the Knoxville (Tennessee) Journal displayed the term, and earlier, on May 20, 1893, the New Brunswick (New Jersey) Daily Times had an article that related how the shore town of Asbury Park had passed a by-law to fine “hot-dog peddlers.”

But the term “hot dog” only became popular because of a reference in Yale Record of Yale University in New Haven, Conn. In 1895. Apparently the word “dog” had been a university slang term for “sausage” for at least a decade by then. A lunch wagon that operated nightly at Yale was dubbed “The Kennel Club” as the humble sausage represented its specialty. A poem was written in the aforementioned newspaper entitled “Echoes from the lunch wagon.”
“Tis dogs’ delight to bark and bite,”
Thus does the adage run.
But I delight to bite the dog
When placed inside a bun.

By this time, there had been accusations that sausage-makers were “dogging” their product for more than half a century. An article in New York Commercial Advertiser of July 6, 1838 quipped, “Sausages have fallen in price one half, in New York since the dog killers have commenced operations.”

Due to the supposed canine constitution of the sausages by the middle of the 19th century, it is not surprising that researchers have found earlier references to the term “hot dog.”
In fact, lexicographer Ben Zimmer reported in his Word Routes column some years ago that law librarian Fred Shapiro of Yale University found this entry in the Dec. 31, 1892 edition of Paterson (New Jersey) Daily Press: “Somehow or other a frankfurter and a roll seem to go right to the spot where the void is felt the most. The small boy has got on such familiar terms with this sort of lunch that he now refers to it as “hot dog.” “Hey Mister, give me a hot dog quick,” was the startling order that a rosy-cheeked gamin hurled at the man as a Press reporter stood close by last night. The “hot dog” was quickly inserted in a gash on a roll, a dash of mustard also splashed on to the “dog” with a piece of flat whittled stick, and the order was fulfilled.” Shapiro’s discovery is important because it demonstrates that the term hot dog had some print currency before it was adopted by students at Yale
Zimmer did some sleuthing and unearthed the identity of this hot dog purveyor —  Thomas Francis Xavier Morris, known in Paterson as “Pepper Sauce” Morris. Morris had previously lived in Germany where he may have learned his frankfurter flavouring formula. His 1907 obituary stated that, “Besides peddling hot frankfurters Morris made pepper sauce that he supplied to many families the condiments being much sought after.”

For a while the term hot dog competed for supremacy with frankfurter, red hot and wiener but by 1910, largely due to its Ivy League connection, hot dog became the definitive term for this food.
Enjoy the July 4th festivities you intrepid carnivorous gladiators, and don’t forget to pack plenty of Zantac and Gaviscon.

Howard Richler’s book Word Play: Arranged & Deranged Wit will be published by Ronsdale Press next spring.

Wednesday, July 1, 2015

Canadianisms in OED Online

Yes fellow Canucks, we are a distinct society


Howard Richler

(Last of a three-part series on the OED Online)

The Oxford Companion to the English Language (OCEL) is missing an "s" at the end of its title. OCEL has headings for over four hundred varieties of our multitudinous mother tongues, such as Australian English, Singapore English, Indian English and Black Vernacular English. I've never even heard of some of the varieties, such as Babu English, which is described in the OCEL as “a mode of address and reference in several Indo-Aryan languages, including Hindi, for officials working for rajahs, landlords, etc,”

My mother tongue is actually one of those mutants listed in OCEL. To illustrate the particulars of this form of English, I 've concocted the following paragraph which consists of many words and terms found in the OED that might only be understood by Canadians: “The party was attended by rubbies sporting Molson muscles drinking mickeys and Bloody Caesars. The food eaten by the hosers consisted of tourtieres and Nanaimo bars, along with poutine mostly uneaten and chucked down the garburator.” Some explanation may be in order. Rubby is defined in the OED as “an alcoholic who drinks an improvised intoxicant, such as rubbing alcohol...” Molson muscles is a jocular term for a paunch, mickey is defined as “chiefly Canadian, a small bottle of libation holding 3.75 ml,” and a Bloody Caesar, is a drink consisting of vodka, clamato juice, hot sauce and Worcestershire sauce that's virtually unknown outside of Canada. It was invented in Calgary in 1969 by bartender Walter Chell. A hoser refers to a stupid, unsophisticated person and the term was popularized by the fictional McKenzie brothers in their skit Great White North on SCTV. Surprisingly, poutine only made into the OED in 2006; Nanaimo bar, originated in Nanaimo B.C, in the 1950s. It is defined as a “dessert consisting of a base made from a mixture of crushed biscuits and covered with a vanilla buttercream filling and a chocolate glaze, served cut in squares.” A garburator is a waste disposal unit found underneath a sink designed to shred waste into small pieces that can pass through household plumbing. The OED adds that “the form Garberator is a proprietary name in Canada.”

The OED informs us that certain words take on distinct senses in Canada. Not surprisingly in Canada, bilingualism means more than speaking one language and refers to the government that promotes the use of French and English throughout large segments of the population. Acclamation also acquires a distinct Canadian sense when it is used to mean an election to an assembly without opposition or by unanimous or overwheming support. Even adjectives can be Canadianized as is the case of impaired when it refers to improper driving caused by alcohol or narcotics.

If you spend any amount of time with Americans, you're likely to be apprised that part of your lexicon are quaint Canadianisms. For example, when an American is nauseous, she won’t reach for Gravol but for Dramamin. And while Javex, and Varsol may be Canadian household items, an American will not know what these terms mean and will reference them as chlorine bleach, and mineral spirits respectively. The OED extends this point by listing the terms block heater and power bar as “chiefly Canadian.” In Canada, it is clear that a power bar refers to an electrical cord containing a number of outlets, whereas in the US, the OED informs us it could mean a proprietary name for a type of snack food and in the past to a tread on a tractor tire. The term blue box originated in Canada referring to the blue plastic box used for the collection of recyclable household items in many Canadian municipalities. Its first citation in 1983 comes from the Toronto Star but it seems to have spread overseas as there is a 2010 citation from the Birmingham Evening Mail. Also, I was not aware that the term crowd-surfing originated in Canada. The OED defines it “the action of lying flat while being passed over the heads of members at a rock concert, typically from jumping into the audience from the stage. Its first citation occurs in the Globe and Mail in 1989 but by 2002 we find its use in the New York Times.

I suspect that there are few people who are aware that muffin before the Tim Horton era had a distinct Canadian sense. The OED defines it as “a young woman...who regular parners a particular man, during a social season.” The first citation in 1854 states “ I had a charming muffin yesterday. She is engaged to be married, so don't be alarmed.” Its last citation from 1965 testifies to the term being archaic.

I was perplexed as to why the OED includes the term pocket rocket which is defined as “a nickname for a small person regarded as a very fast or energetic person (originally a nickname given to Canadian hockey player Henri Richard).” Surprisingly,this term isn't considered worthy of inclusion in the Canadian Oxford Dictionary which has a far larger collection of Canadian terms. On the other hand, the OED does not contain these jewels of Canadiana: all-dressed, smoked meat and shit-disturber, but worry not as I have appealed for their inclusion.

Richler's latest book Word Play: Arranged & Deranged Wit will be published in spring 2016.

Tuesday, June 2, 2015

The Many Flavors of English

(This is the second part of a three part series that explains the various dimensions of the OED)

The many dimensions of the OED Online


Howard Richler

(Part two of a three part series)

The online edition of the Oxford English Dictionary (OED) affords word lovers a myriad of ways to explore the English language.The largest area for searches occurs in the category section that is sub-divided into four parts: Subject, Usage, Regions and Origin. Under Subject, one can check words on a plethora of topics such as Education, Military and Law.

In the Law section, there are over 8,000 words, such as recusal, abeyance, and codicil, many of which will be known to those familiar with legal terms. However, for readers who delight in arcane words, you will discover expessions such as bastardy order “an order made by a magistrate for the support of an illegitimate child by a putative father” and alnage, “the action of ... determining whether woolen cloth conforms to particular standards of shape and quality as required... under British law.” For those mining obscure legal words you'd likely find them in legal sub-categories such as Medieval, Ecclesiastical and Roman law. For example in feudal times bloodwite referred to “ a fine payable for the shedding of blood,” whereas lairwite, was a “fine for fornication or adultery with a bondwoman.” Corsned in Old English law referred to a type of trial by ordeal in which an accused person would eat a one-ounce piece of barley bread and cheese which was consecrated by exorcism. Supposedly, if the accused was guilty, his eating the holy bread would cause him to go into convulsions and choke. In days of yore, reaggravation was something best avoided as it referred to “the second warning given to a person before final excommunication.” This, however, was probably not as dangerous to your well-being as perduellion which in Roman Law denoted high treason.” Also in Roman law, it wasn't necessarily a good thing to be emancipated as this could refer to being delivered into servitude or subjugation because emancipation was often effected by fictitious sale.

The many flavours of English found in the OED Online

The Regions category demonstrates the incredible variety that marks 21st century English. And even though English is spoken virtually everywhere on this planet it may not seem like the same language to all based on distinctive vocabulary one finds in different parts of the English-speaking world.

Former British colonies often display flavourful Englishes. In Jamaica, nyam means to “eat voraciously” and Babylon is a “dismissive term for something regarded as representing the degenerative or oppressive nature of white culture.” In South Africa, skindering is a word for gossip and if you're babalaas, you're suffering from a hangover, which is probably not kwaai, a slang term for “cool.” It's also not kwaai to be a moegoe, a country bumpkin or gullible person. In West Africa you don’t remove someone from authority, you destool them which may be a result of a palaver, a “dispute.” Colloquially, palaver can be used to mean “problem,” as in “That's your palaver.” In New Zealand, you don’t attend a funeral but a tangi and if a New Zealander tells you to hook your mutton, you haven't received an invitation to dine on sheep, rather you've been told to “clear out.”

In India, you'll find that familiar words might have very different meanings. For example, intermarriage refers not only to people of different religions getting hitched but also to people from different castes. Accomplish often will have the distinct sense of “to make complete or perfect” and cabin usually refers to an office or office cubicle.If someone in India or other South Asia locales says they’re going to send you their biodata, understand the term to mean curricilum vitae, (CV). We in Canada call where we put the luggage in our car the trunk; the Brits call it the boot but in India it is called the dicky. Also certain terms that have been obsolete for over a century in England live on in India, including the verbs condole “to offer condolences” and prepone “to bring forward to an earlier time or date.” Unfortunately, the euphemistic term eve-teasing is heard all too often in India; it refers to the sexual harassment of a woman by a man in a public place. One of the more amusing descriptions of a person in East Asia is astronaut. This designation describes a “high-flying” business person, semi-permanently in transit between locales such as Hong Kong and Vancouver because his/her family has emigrated.

And even when you happen upon a country where most people speak English as a first language, don't assume you'll understand the lingo. In Australia if someone asks you where the dunny is, they’re looking for the toilet. If you've been referred to as a wowser, don't feel complemented as it means “party-pooper” as the term refers to a puritanical person who disapproves of dancing and drinking. Alas, it is not only Down Under where you may feel at a linguistic loss partying in an English-speaking area. In Scotland you are not the life of the party if you are described as fire-raising. You are accused of arson!

Nor should we Canucks regard ourselves as language purists, as in next month's issue, I'll explore one of my favourite mutations of our native tongue: Canadian English.

Richler's next book Wordplay: Arranged & Deranged Wit will be published in 2016.

Wednesday, April 29, 2015


(This is the first of a 3 part series on the features of the OED Online. Originally published in a slightly different format in Lexpert).
The magna cum laude of dictionaries


Howard Richler

Alas, because language is in a constant state of flux, a lexicographer’s work is never done. The first edition of the Oxford English Dictionary (OED), replete with 414,825 words was completed in 1928 and ceremonial presentations were made to President Calvin Coolidge and His Majesty King George V. Supplements ensued but not until 1989 did a second edition comprised of twenty volumes appear. According to The Oxford Companion to the English Language, this edition has “21,728 pages and contains some 290,500 main entries, within which there are a further 157,000 combinations and derivatives in bold type (all defined) and a further 169,000 phrases and undefined combinations in bold italic type, totaling 615,500 word forms.”

The pace of change is ever-quickening. In March 2000, the 20 volume OED, plus three volumes of additions, became available online and every word in the OED is being revised. So, 120 years after the first editor of the OED James Murray launched an “appeal for Words for the OED,“ John Simpson, the present chief editor, invited “readers to contribute to the development of the Dictionary by adding to our record of English throughout the world. Everyone can play a part in recording the history of the language and in helping to enhance the OED.” I believe this project represents one of the greatest feats of scholarship ever undertaken and accomplishes for lexicography what the Human Genome Project is doing for biology.

Words, and new senses of existing words, are flooding into the language from all corners of the world. Only a dictionary the size of the OED can adequately capture the true richness of the English language throughout its history, and the developments in

English. By the time the revisions are completed sometime between 2025 and 2030, the English vocabulary will most likely have at least doubled. As a result, there may not even be a print edition as it would require close to fifty volumes to complete it. One reason so many words are being added is because of the lexicographic advancements in the non-British and non-Ameican Englishes, such as African and Asian varieties, whose words are increasingly being recorded in the OED. There is no longer only one English language; rather English is now available in a variety of flavours.

Interestingly, the revision in 2000 began not with the letter “A” but with the letter “M.” I asked John Simpson why this was done and he replied that “the OED editors wanted to start the revision at a point halfway through the dictionary where the style was largely consistent, and to return to the earlier, less consistent areas later.” In any case, by 2010 all words from M to R had been revised and since then this alphabetical format has been abandoned and every three months we now find revised entries across the alphabet. For example, in December 2014 un-PC was added; June 2014 introduced branzino, a term for the European bass or seabass and also the verb Skype; in March 2014, bestie achieved OED validation.

Aside from cataloguing virtually every English word of the last 1000 years, the OED, in its online incarnation, offers a host of useful features for the lexicographically-minded:


In graphic form, timelines are provided that highlight the year wotrds are first recorded in the OED. Hence, the year I was born also featured the arrival of the words cappuccino, cybernetics and transistor whereas 1616, the year Shakespeare expired saw the birth of acquiescent, incidental and Kurd.

Top 1000 Sources

If you guess Shakespeare as the most frequent quoted OED source, you're not far wrong. The Bard, however comes in second and is bested by the London Times (39,884 quotaions versus 33,127). Rounding out the top five are #3, Walter Scott, #4, the Philosophical Transactions of the Royal Society of London and #5, Encyclopaedia Brittanica. The top North American source is the New York Times at #11 and the Globe and Mail takes Canadian honours at #212. I don't think too many people would guess the Canadian runner-up - The Daily Colonist of Victoria, B.C. at #431.

Historical Thesaurus

The historical thesaurus is a taxonomic classification of the majority of senses in the OED. It can be thought of as a kind of semantic index to the contents of the dictionary. It can be used to navigate around the dictionary by topic, find related terms, and explore the lexical history of a concept or meaning. It is divided in three categories, the External World, the Mind and Society. So for example, if you were researching Clairvoyance, you would click on External World and then to the Supernatural heading, then to Paranormal and finally Clairvoyance where you would find several entries such as “second sight” defined as a supposed power by which occurences in the future or things at a distance are perceived as though they were actually present.”

The feature that I find most useful in the OED is the categories section and in my next two Lexpert articles I will explore some of its dimensions.

Richler's next book Wordplay: Arranged & Deranged Wit will be published in 2016.

Wednesday, April 8, 2015

(This article appeared originally in a slightly modified form in the April 2015 edition of Lexpert)
                           Expressions we love to hate


                                         Howard Richler

Think outside the box. Like a kid in a candy store. The tip of the iceberg. At the end of the day.

All these expressions are recognized as clichés, and I even though I realize this, I am not above occasionally spicing up my speech or writing with their use. But what exactly is a cliché? Lexicographically this is easy to answer. For example, the first defintion in the OED from 1832 states, “The French name for a stereotype block, a cast...; applied esp. to a metal stereotype of a wood-engraving used to print from.” By the end of the 19th century the sense of “stereotype” was extended to expressions that were reusable. The OED also informs us that when used as an adjective cliché means “stereotyped, hackneyed.”

In the real as opposed to the lexicographic world, however, deciding whether an expression is stereotyped or hackneyed is highly subjective. One person's cliché, may be another a person's idiom or a spouse's favourite Biblical proverb or Shakespearean quote.

Clichés have become an easy target for writers on language. Longman Guide to English Usage describes clichés as “substitutes for independent thinking or writing.” The Canadian Writer's Handbook states that they “are another form of wordiness: they are tired, worn out, all too familiar, and therefore generally contribute little to a sentence.., They are another kind of deadwood that can be edited out of a draft.” Donna Woolfolk Cross in her book Word Abuse is even more censorious: “Clichés don't have to make a great deal of sense. Whether they do or not, people keep using them. A person who wouldn't dream of using someone else's toothbrush will feel not a qualm about using someone else's tired expression.” This position, I believe, is too harsh for several reasons. An expression might be viewed as a cliché in one context but its meaning might be both crystal clear and effective in another. In any case, a cliché may be overused but because it is common it is likely to be understood. Philip Howard, in The State of the Language, writes “Poets and philosophers mint brand new language. The rest of us have to make do with the common currency that passes ceaselessly from hand to eye and mouth to ear. The most overworked cliché is better than an extravagant phrase that does not come off.” Also, clichés are often the most effective way to introduce informality into discussions that require this tone. They also help establish a rapport between writers or speakers whose audience is faced with comprehending a subject that it finds challenging.

And we should not forget that some clichés are overused because they are clever, notwithstanding they are not original. But, of course, they were original at one point and because of their cleverness attracted hordes of imitators. So a cliché is often a victim of its own success, hoist with its own petard. One can imagine an adolescent seeing Hamlet for the first time and when asked his opinion of the play replying that it was just a bunch of clichés from pop songs such as “Cruel To Be Kind” and “Sweets For My Sweet.”

Clichés also serve a purpose when one needs to write quickly with a tight deadline given originality can be a time-consuming process. As such, because journalists are often under extreme time constraints, a great part of journalistic writing is cliché-ridden. Observe this imagined news report: It's not rocket science that for all intents and purposes we've thrown caution to the wind and are at the tipping point of a slippery slope in our battle against climate change unless we change the political landscape. And, at times, clichés are indispensable because the alternative are very long descriptions. Two examples that come to mind in this category are “brain drain” and “sour grapes.”

This is not to say that certain clichés, shouldn't be avoided. For example, some are actually longer than the non-clichéd option. Cases in point: “At the end of the day” can be shortened to “finally”; “at any given time” to “whenever” and “at the present time” to “now.” Clichés can be misapplied at times leading to a possible lack of clarity. Take the expression “best-kept secret.” If you google this phrase along with “Toronto restaurants” you'll get over 200,000 hits. Methinks these particular “best-kept secrets” are rather well-publicized. This expression offers a moment of cognitive befuddlement best avoided by the careful writer. Also, clichés tend to be hyperbolic when the sense being implied is more measured. Such is the case of “Small actions can make a world of difference” spotted at It is unlikely that the difference effected qualifies with the largeness of “worlds.”

My final word: The inventive writer or speaker should avoid clichés like the plague.

Howard's next book Wordplay: Arranged &Deranged Wit will be published in 2015.

Saturday, March 28, 2015



901-Which word doesn't belong? acrobat-act-acute-edge-oxygen

902 Discern the convergent word? farm-saw-soap sacred-disease-function line-panty-band

903-What do these words have in common?cursive- position- tension

904- Discern the convergent word? blue-car-rain rod-red-rack pass-pencil-chasing

905- Name an anagrammatic description of a South American fruit

906- Discern the convergent word? alley-pear-purse bot-ides-hide dog-ranch-bell

907- Name an anagrammatic description of a European wetsuit

908- Discern the convergent word? biter-deep-sprain print-nail-green check-come-country

909-Name an anagrammatic description of an illustration for a Transam

910- Discern the convergent word? duck-or-dove supply-or-side dead-on-pot

911-Name a 2 word palindromic phrase that could be a slogan for an anti-acne medication

912- Discern the convergent word? disc-past-east ping-wax-killer in-bit-sex

913-Aside from starting with an A, what do these words have in common? accuse-adios-ague

914- Discern the convergent word? side-see-my bend-replacement-cap fight-iron-pump

915-What do these words have in common? billowy-biopsy-begin

916-Discern the convergent word? wet-egg-head got-bone-let eater-patch-roll

917- Name an anagrammatic description of crying primates

918- Discern the convergent word? red-turn-tail gun-hit-suicide age-sun-over

919- Name an anagrammatic description of the hippest cats

920- Discern the convergent word? wrestle-one-or up-beer-pot out-eye-car

921-What do these words have in common? bloated-enable-slang

922- Discern the convergent word? map-twister-acid off-wash-ports a-wag-less

923- Name an anagrammatic description of wise underwear

924- Discern the convergent word? ability-atlantic-piece only-lemon-owner grey-guitar-sea

925-Name a 2 word palindromic phrase that mean accentuated end courses

926-Discern the convergent word? line-bone-breaker duck-off-about leopard-oil-alive

927--Name a 2 word palindromic phrase that describes Joan Sutherland

928- Discern the convergent word? face-Boston-pizza up-ball-fly flying-urine-leaf

929- Name an anagrammatic description of a dive in the Canadian prairies

930- Discern the convergent word? due-up-see back-Canadian-sandwich favor-paste-powder

931-What do these words have in common? zipper- escalator-stetson

932- Discern the convergent word? bar-priest-stones egg-fool-wet all-trade-cabinet

933-Turn a southwest USA city into a midwest USA city by taking its last letter and moving it to the front.

934- Discern the convergent word? Sand-wheel-by wolf-blood-fox up-eye-led

935-Name a famous museum that features a 3 letter alphabetical string e.g., abc or xyz

936- Discern the convergent word? up-blackberry-pearl he-master-ski tree-hill-bomb

937-What do these words have in common? brand lament -oblate

938- Discern the convergent word? blue-gun-sugar shack-season-bay fever-king-mimic

939- Name an anagrammatic description of a wandering earthling

940- Discern the convergent word? over-I-under ace-head- scoff batting-less-trade

941-Namean 8 letter European city where every letter is worth 1 point in Scrabble

942- Discern the convergent word? locust-dear-well job-case-tier led-golden-sugar

943-What do these words have in common? cummerbund-nabob-pashmina-cushy

944- Discern the convergent word? bone-yellow-cotton check-cool-courts ate-oil-pilot

945-Name a US city that is an anagram of a word that is a synonym for “identify”

946 - Discern the convergent word? a-boy-tom social-madame-net tractor-moth-black

947- -Name a 3 word palindromic phrase that describes Napoleo (alternate spelling)

948-Discern the convergent word? Irish-ball-able ale-biscuit-tea ration-white-money

949- Name an anagrammatic description of the prickliest moralist

950- Discern the convergent word? Christmas-Navy-ant -page-pant-part on-gun-sting

951- Name an anagrammatic description that means gets fortification

952-Discern the convergent word? tree-stem-hare blue-grass-grey a-man-turkey

953- Name an anagrammatic description of an Irish spirit over the hill

954-Discern the convergent word? racing-dung-cigarette sea-all-hunting up-ram-dollar

955- Name an anagrammatic description of a puzzling elfin young woman

956-Discern the convergent word? pus-my -runner lout-beer-phone dew-bee-cake

957-Name an anagrammatic description of a Plains Indians who drive horse-drawn carriages

958- Discern the convergent word? white-gas-on bow-hog-red dress-under-fancy

959- What do these words have in common? devilish-grit-spooned

960- Discern the convergent word? ding-hit-her skills-like-amount her-water-ion

961- Name an anagrammatic descriptionthat describes Teutonic schmatologists

962- Discern the convergent word? watering-bad-ply dance-full-under pay-a-play

963- Name an anagrammatic description of a cushy but unprotected job

964 -Discern the convergent word? foot-willow-riot hand-slip-mad speckled-mud-as

965-Name a northeast US city that becomes the name of a European country in its language when you switch the middle letters

966- Discern the convergent word? raisin-ration-roll ahoy-computer-per knife-cake-blue

967-What do these words have in common? ablution-lased-manic

968-Discern the convergent word? ring-red-leaves soup-dome-green fly-first-passion

969-What do these words have in common? impel-scaly-state

970- Discern the convergent word? leather-come-field palm-pale-type splitting-piece-candy

971--Name a 2 word palindromic phrase for a Brazilian recollection

972-Discern the convergent word? Mormon-bomber-drawers bra-sweater-in bag-print-size

973-Name a 2 word palindromic phrase for a polygraph

974- Discern the convergent word? as-in-pat cold-ball-sure leaf-bite-stick

975-Change a US city to another US city by changing the pair of vowels.

976- Discern the convergent word? nuts-picking-fruit let-chat-per shack-season-bar

977-What do these words have in common? crate-rained-rosary

978- Discern the convergent word? trap-water-bag dust-ere-stalag disc-past-east

979- Name an anagrammatic description that means fought against Brown or Wintour

980- Discern the convergent word? smoked-sweet- white moose-king-cheese a-egg-meal

981- Name a country that is an anagram to a world capital .

982- Discern the convergent word? bath-dis-ward may-seas-town bypass-under-out

983-What do these words have in common? yogurt-tulip-horde

984- Discern the convergent word? cloth-head-board lemon-owner-practitioner juice-root-top

985-Name at least 2 animals of at least 6 letters made up of only odd letters in the alphabet.

986- Discern the convergent word? spiny-electric-basket dips-led-chops blue-night-speckled

987-Name a Hawaiian singer's full name that is an anagram of a nickname of a 60s-70s Celtic great

988- Discern the convergent word? rod-hot-hog woman-car-priest wedding-tea-ball

989-Name a 2 word anagrammatic phrase that describes an Anglo in Nuuk

990- Discern the convergent word? bump-pump-closed symbol-land-felt bone-cap-numb

991-Which place doesn't belong in this grouping? Haifa-Jerusalem-Tel Aviv- United Arab Emirates-Yemen

992- Discern the convergent word? trader-crazy-car cheese-he-herder family-sea-water

993- What do these words have in common? caned-harem-ornate

994- Discern the convergent word? boar-blood- roll nut-green-salt jack-net-stew

995-Name a state capital that doesn't share any let ters with its state.

996-Discern the convergent word? bad-meridian-brother wracking-peripheral-gall srtap-pad-blade

997-Aside from having 11 letters what do these words have in common? amicability-communities-compartment

998 Discern the convergent word? ride-tail-up elk-harass-blood flying-grey-night

999-Name a 2 word anagrammatic phrase that describes the way the language is spoken at a South Carolina military college

1000-Discern the convergent word? barrel-fire-jack bell-salad-shell oil-salted-stand