2.02.2010

A Thirst of Irish

I am a woman of many secrets. Secrets piled on secrets like an 7-layer bean dip. Except I don't like bean dip. I am also a woman of many dislikes.

One of my secrets is that I am an aficionado of collective noun phrases.

These little beauties are not used enough in everyday conversation. Then again, that may be a blessing as collective noun phrases should be used with laser-like precision.

The following are a few of my favorites.


abomination of clergy
ambush of widows
ascension of larks
bellowing of bullfinches
blessing of unicorns
bloat of hippopotami
clashing of economists
coalition of cheetahs
congress of baboons
dropping of pigeons
eleven of cricketers
embarrassment of riches
flourish of strumpets
gang of elk
illusion of painters
intrusion of cockroaches
multiply of husbands
pocket of oranges
ponder of philosophers
rhumba of rattlesnakes
scourge of mosquitoes
singular of boars
zeal of zebras
wolfpack of submarines

Twisted minds developed these beauties. Twisted and genius.