How about “derogatory”? It appeared in yesterday’s crossword.
I’ve a dubious reputation with “derogatory”. In my youth and fevered adolescence I tended to shoot from the hip rather too much. Moving to London calmed me down somewhat, travelling also helped. But I have to admit there are those I actively dislike. The adult solution is to keep clear of such folk but, even so, accidents can happen. And thus I'm tempted to "derogate" if that word exists.
Twenty-five minutes to go.
Could it be I occasionally attract oafs? Which opens up another question. Am I basically likable? Chances are I’m not. I talk too much, for one thing. And in doing so I seek to be original, keen to avoid clichés. Thus I take risks. Thus I’m likely to be misunderstood.
Nineteen minutes to go.
What is surprising is that I haven’t made more enemies in France. Problem is my French is formal, not idiomatic (ie, incorporating slang, up-to-date words and phrases, abbreviations that everyone understands). No French person would ever imagine I was French. To compensate for this failing I invent jokes always with a sting in the tail. Just when the listener thinks he understands me, I creep up and blindside him. Affectionately, y’unnerstand. Often startling but most laugh.
Eight minutes left.
263 words used up out of my allowed 300-word limit.
Gotta set up Skype. See you soon.
Whoops. V emails me, says she will be 5 minutes late. The word, in case you’ve forgotten, is “derogatory”.
Skyped lesson starts; lasts 90 minutes
Go to Tesco.
Rest after going to Tesco.
Prepare and eat my lunch.
Get washing out of dryer (in shed).
Clean spray head of VR’s en suite shower (soak in vinegar).
Am ready to resume post but have bust my 300-word limit. As the hideous Boris said: Hasta la vista.