Any language, explain what it means if it’s not English.
For example (as a non-native speaker) I’ve always liked the English word ‘unprecedented’, mostly in the context of fiction. Especially if it paints some entity to be really mystical or wondrous or it’s own never before seen order of magnitude in any way.
ointment
Gruntled. It means pleased or contented. It’s the positive form of the much more common “disgruntled”. If someone is caught in the rain, they may be disgruntled about being wet. But you very rarely hear the word “gruntled” used.
Similarly, “whelmed” is a word, which basically means “submerged” or “engulfed”. You can be _over_whelmed by emotion, meaning you were completely overtaken and swept away by the emotion. You can be _under_whelmed by an experience, meaning it failed to fully meet your expectations. But you can also just be whelmed. The experience did exactly what you expected; no more, no less.
Solamente, it just flows so well. It means only in Spanish.
I’ve always liked the word Adenosine. Not sure why, just fun to say.
There are plenty of feminine given names that roll off the tongue incredibly well. Names like “Anna” and “Elaine” and “Katherine” do not begin to scratch the surface… But again, I pay more attention to names than the average person because I am obsessed with linguistics, and that obsession is what made me click this thread and type out a reply in the first place.
I knew a girl with such a cute name but she was not very good looking so guys used to say “name scam”
My favorite word is cunt.
Vegemíté, as pronounced by Gloria in Modern Family.
Every time I open the cupboard that has a jar, it brings me joy.
It’s good shit. I ain’t even an Aussie but that shit makes everything better.
No way, I’ve never met anyone who didn’t grow up with Vegemite but still enjoys it.
Thing with Vegemíté is that it’s like Marmite, but not fucking awful.
Waffle not the food just the word. It’s fun to say.
I love the word helicopter, because unobviously, the root words aren’t heli and copter, but are “helico”, meaning spiral, and “pter”, meaning wing.
I love the word trabajaba (pronounced trah-buh-hah-buh). It means “worked” in Spanish.
English: Spaghettification (being ripped/stretched apart extremely violently)
Oh and almost forgot: Yeet is an actual word now, so that as well.
German: Zeitgeist (so well known you’ve probably heard it already [“spirit of the times”])
Programming languages: print(“lol, lmao even.”);
Anesthetize
The ‘esth’ right into a t is just about the coolest combination of word sounds in any word in English.
Second favorite is cwm. :)
As someone with a lisp who tends to turn ‘s’ and ‘z’ sounds into a ‘th’ sound, i will respectfully disagree that it is a cool combination. it hurts me a little that i can’t always say words properly but i suppose i could always ask a doctor to aneththetithe me.
Paraprosdokian. A sentence with a twist in it. Eg. Some people are like slinkies: not really good for much but they bring a smile to your face when you see one tumble down a set of stairs.
Brobdingnagian
It’s a reference to the giants of Brobdingnag from Gulliver’s travels. It means that something is absurdly large. It is also a large word making it delightful in that way. It also rolls off the tongue musically.
Coming in a close second is petrichor or petrichorian.
Petrichor is the word for the smell of the earth right after a rain. Petrichorian obviously means that something smells similar, or can be used to reference petrichor. I love the word for multiple reasons. First that it just sounds wonderful. Second that there’s a word for describing this one specific smell that is a universal human experience to anyone not anosmic out of all other smells that are similarly universal.
Third that it approaches onomatopoeia on that it sounds like the way the smell smells. The earthy petri combined with the grounded ring of chor (pronounced like core, and references that the smell is a core thing of rain and earth) is the verbal sound of the way the smell tickles the nose and makes many people walk around sniffing like hounds on a walk through the woods after weeks in the city.
Petri chor. It’s like the tinging of raindrops off of a piece of granite or marble in the mountains while you shelter under a tree and revel in the scents of it all.
I mean, it’s no Brobdingnagian, but as words go petrichor is a bit magical. It invokes and evokes almost as much as tintinnabulation, but does so for a smell, which is so much harder to do. That, btw, is an excellent word: tintinnabulation. Of the bells, bells, bells, which may be the most enjoyable poem to read aloud, ever.
There’s some other words that have the ability to invoke phantoms of their related senses. Cadaverine and putrescine come to mind; both names of chemicals involved in the putrescent smells of decomposition of flesh. Knowing their meaning brings forth memories of their smells. Not quite as effective in that, because you do have to know what they mean for the incantation to work, but still quite wonderful words. Sulfurous is similarly scent summoning. Flinty works as well, but is less musical as it resonates in the oral cavity and echoes off the teeth.
Look, I can do this all day. There’s a word for people like me: logophile. There’s a fancy word for people that are into words. How awesome is that?!
Oh, that ?! Even has a word! The interrobang! Ain’t English awesome?!
And yes, at this point, the entire comment is sigogglin’ (or sigoggly, or sigoggledy depending on where in the Appalachians you are), which is a twisty and crooked word for something that is twisty and crooked.
Loquacious, no?
Sunwise and widdershins.
