Having fun adding to the yawn of collective nouns
HOW some couch conversations begin is a mystery, but here we were discussing, debating and determining collective nouns.
I think it was the crash of rhino that started it all. Very appropriate to describe their behaviour and the widespread collapse of populations because of the criminally stupid people who believe their horns are any different from their own disgusting toe nails.
Once the deluge of abuse on poachers subsided for a time, and the soap box was kicked under the coffee table, we pondered a few more.
Many of the original ones are pretty boring. The board of directors in particular induced boardom (damn, spellcheck is fighting me on this one).
We did some research and decided a collection of collective nouns could mostly be called a yawn and made up a few of our own. Ja, some are silly but it was quite fun and we gave ourselves two points if they were alliterative as well as descriptive. Some apply only to poor, battered, “resilient”, exhausted Saffers, but most are exportable.
Feel free to add your own. A pustule of politicians.
A dagger of lawyers.
A plot of businesspeople. A mystery of IT guys (that’s gender-neutral, chaps).
A backbone of workers.
A terror of taxmen unless you’re one of the lucky ones Sars ignores. Then it’s a refund of revenue staff. A flex of gym trainers.
A con of fraudsters.
A harp of helpers.
A smell of shoes.
A blight of buses or taxis, but only if you’re one of the lucky ones not forced to use them.
A stiletto of socialites.
A handbag of rich housewives. A fleet of mosquitoes: this one is particular to the couch, for some reason.
There are a couple of original non-council collectives that are pretty cool, like:
A murder of crows.
Back to a made-up one: a kindness of twitchers. Thanks to readers who sent me pictures and Youtubes and descriptions, I know which bird has been torturing me with the TRRRRRRRRR. It happens to be one of my favourites to see (but not hear) on the game drive channel: a crested barbet. Once I knew there was the possibility of seeing a real live one in my garden, I splashed out on a pair of binoculars.
As you read this, I should be sheltering in a shady spot in the garden, trying to keep the fur family quiet and seeking out my very own crested barbet. I will also have informed the neighbours of my new activity so they know I’m not doing any nefarious spying.