One of the annoyances is its lack of rhyming words. Rhyming words can help to make you sound poetic, which is a great way of getting girls to like you. There are probably other ways as well, but I haven't found them just yet. As soon as I do though, you'll be the first people to know.
Anyway, during a recent drinking game, it was observed that there are several words in the English language that don't have rhyming partners. No longer, my friends. Stupidly, most of these words are colours, like purple, orange and silver, which makes it hard to do "Roses are red, violets are purple" kind of poems, unless it goes:
"Roses are red,
violets are purple,
the world is an egg
and nothing rhymes with purple."
See how shit that is? Purple, orange, silver... no fucking rhymes.
"Gary won gold
as his psychic foretold,
Barry took silver...
which was a pretty good effort,
and Larry got bronze,
which he sold to buy some swans."
Actually, bronze doesn't have too many rhymes either.
Other words that don't have a decent rhyme are month, scalp and angst. I can't believe angst doesn't have a rhyme, as surely it is used by emo poets the world over. So to help out emos (because they need it), as well as normal, functioning members of society, I have done everyone a favour by introducing... the next step of languageness:
Lurple - the act of riding in the boot of a car. (The back seat was full, so one person had to lurple for the drive home.)
Borange - to ask for an item that is either impossible or not intended to be returned to the lender. (May I borange a cigarette? Do you have a tissue that I could borange? Would you like to borange a post-it note?)
Grilver - yawning to the point of tears. (It appeared that he was crying during The Notebook, but told his friends that it was just grilver.)
Nonth - to fall upwards. (Kate took a nonth at the bottom of the staircase.)
Chalp - a familiar yet unknown person (I swear I've met this chalp before.)
Frangst - to be given incorrect change. (As I tried to pay for parking, I realised the chick at Subway had frangst me.)
If you can work lurple into a "roses are red" kind of poem, I'll buy you a beer.