There is allegedly a publication titled “A Teenager’s Guide to Living in New Zealand” which includes a list of slang words that teens who are new to Aotearoa should familiarise themselves with to fit in.
This is a good concept, but I think the list of words was meant for “A 50 Year Old Bogan Farmer’s Guide To Talking With Your Mates Down At The Pub”.
I don’t know many people who use these words on a daily basis, or if they do use them at all, it’s in an detached, alanis-like ironic way.
I decided to write a story using all the words on the list. The words I didn’t know the meanings of (charf, chop, hard graft and prims) got included, but kind of mentally.
Here’s the story. Slangtionary words are in bold, and ones I didn’t know the meaning of, I creatively incorporated and are in italics.
I was over at my bach at Raglan cooking some sausages on my barbie. Suddenly out of the bush came my mate Bruce. “Charf,” he said. I noticed he had on him a kiwi slangtionary that was chocker with words such as “chop,” which is what I was doing to the onions.
Bruce didn’t have a very strong stomach and suddenly began to chunder.
“Mate,” I said to him, “are you feeling a bit crook?”
“I wasn’t until I saw your cooking,” he replied.
That Bruce always was a bit of a dag!
I had forgotten about the barbecue and realised that the sausages were burning, which left me feeling like a bit of a drongo. I ran flat tack to the side of the bach and grabbed a hose and quickly put out the flaming sausages.
I then heard a friendly, “g’day” and saw my neighbour Keith walking over in his gumboots. “Your barbie smells pretty grouse,” he said. “Me and the misses have just been watching one of those blue movies called “Hard Graft III: Nowhere To Hide.”
There was a low rumble and Bruce’s son Dean pulled up in his Kingswood and managed to knock the wheelbarrow over. “You bloody hoon,” Bruce shouted.
Dean walked over wearing his Jandals. He had bought some lollies at the local dairy and offered them around. “I’m feeling pretty munted after Jason’s 21st last night,” he said. “Man, that Jason is a pretty on to it kind of guy.”
Dean ventured off into the paddock out the back and said, “prims.” He was rapt to see the lovely Ange sitting under a tree.
“Howz it goin’?” he asked.
“Not too bad, yourself?,” she replied.
“Ever fallen over a tree?” Dean asked.
“How about a root?”
After they had rooted, Ange wondered if she might be pregnant.
“Nah, she’ll be right” Dean reassured her.
Dean then shot back to the bach and began to brag about what he’d just been up to. He was so pleased he said he’d shout everyone drinks.
But Ange could hear him skiting and felt thoroughly slutted with him.
Dean went the round the back of the shed and enjoyed his tinnie, while Bruce shared some tinnys of Lion Red.
Keith drank a few too many and was a bit unco and fell over. We all had a good laugh at that.
Mate! Who says you can’t have a good time in the wop-wops.