One of those words that is just so useful to have when you are writing a description and I always notice when other people use it too!
For me a strangely satisfying word.
I like it because the first four letters always make me imagine something round (like a bomb from a Tom and Jerry cartoon). The rounded imagery links to memories of watching Oliver Twist, the arrogant, sadistic Mr Bumble seemed to have a very rounded chest. And bombastic is a very good description for Mr Bumble anyway.
It sounds sly, shifty and secretive, and has to be said in a hushed tone.
When heard, cosmic conjures up thoughts of other planets and galaxies, aliens, supernatural entities, comic book heroes and exciting unimagined things still to be discovered. It's not just a word but a gateway for the imagination leading to other worlds, concepts and universes.
If everyone had a little more of this the world would be a better place.
It reminds me of so many glorious hot trips to France where a week or two in the sunshine outside cafes and bars can simply wash away all your day-to-day cares and woes. It is also the title and subject of a song by Peter Sarstedt which perfectly summons up this wistful feeling.
Such an onomatopoeic word! Makes me think of big fat pigs rolling around in the mud!
It has no erudition, but has Beowulf sensibility, becoming eloquent unexpectedly.
It conveys someone of wide knowledge, someone to aspire to, someone like Stephen Fry.
It's a wonderful word to say — onomatopoeic even.
It reminds me of a friend who used it to describe someone years ago. I always smile when I think about that memory.
Because it means 'having an atmosphere similar to a pub', which, I think you'll agree, is a most delightful feeling which absolutely warrants a word of its very own.
I love the fact that it is so unfancy and inflexible and just so sort of blunt. It conjures up for me the image of a country gent dressed in a tweed jacket in a unheated country house with a gaggle of boisterous dogs looking into and obsessing over the minor details of something that no one else would think about — reflecting exactly what the word means.
I love the word kerfuffle. It embodies the nonsense that it often describes and is just so fun to say.
Long live kerfuffle!
It looks awkward and complex at first glance, but it has smooth pronunciation and rolls off the tongue.
When I use it, I can mentally picture the letters coming together, epitomising its definition.
I love the sound, and how it looks. Plus, it makes me think of lovely things like water and islands and not being in stinky, rainy London.
It's fun to say.
Why walk when you can prance? Fun to say and a mystery to behold, I like how prancercise clearly describes what it is, but "what it is" is the wild idea of getting fit by moving like a horse.
For how it sounds, what it describes and what it evokes.
I won't win Strictly with my legs akimbo but I'd have fun trying. It's the free form jazz of body movement — no grace but big on personality. The word's egging me on to fling out and land in a happy, if undignified, heap
Injurious is an eloquent word for the task it serves, and for someone who is quite apt at falling down, it’s nice to know there’s a word that adds some insight, not insult, to injury.
Because it's such a nice idea; it's always good to be nourished. Plus it's a fun word to say — I can't think of any other word that sounds like it. Also, if you use it with regards to anything other than food it makes you seem really poetic. -- Rob
You can’t hurry a word like pootle. If you do, it sounds like poodle. Which is no bad thing, as I can imagine going for a pootle with a poodle. To pootle is to travel in a leisurely manner, and that’s why I like this word so much. It’s the antithesis of commuting to work on the Northern line. For me, a pootle is about the freedom to venture out without a deadline or destination in mind. And with time to pootle, who knows what you’ll discover? Especially with a poodle. Just don’t meet a cat along the way. -- Paul
It makes you work to say it. Smile as the hard palate forms an "I" sandwiched between two "N"s, then quickly throw the sound back to the soft palate to make "C". Hum out the "OM", spit out a "POO", and smack your lips to form the last "P". Aerobics for the mouth. I also like its quaint British English harmlessness and satisfying rhythm. -- Cat
The 'ulgence' bit seems to go on forever, like dipping a spoon into a very rich pudding: you get a feel for the very thing it describes.
It's got that in-your-face onomatopoeia (another great word) that almost bowls you over. I love the juxtaposition of negativity intended by the person doing the describing against the carefree, I don't-care-what-you-think attitude of they who are rambunctious.