I heard an interesting example of this once from, of all people, Nelson Mandela. Mandela - or Madiba as he is also called (his clan name) - is a fascinating study, not because he’s a saint but because he isn’t. Or rather he is, but not in the sense that he can’t be as fly as hell when the occasion demands. I bet Gandhi was the same.
Or this one where as one of the commentators at the FT's blog points out he sounds as if "Middle East Peace Process" is a euphemism for his penis:
The biggest problem with the Middle East peace process is that no one has ever gripped it long enough or firmly enough. The gripping is intermittent, and intermittent won’t do. It doesn’t work. If it was gripped, it could be solved.
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The word process has long since been irredeemably contaminated for me by a passage in one of Paul Theroux's railway odysseys where he described an American expat he met somewhere in the arse-end of Indo-China. This gentleman used process freely as a synonym for penis and described a paid encounter with what turned out to be a ladyboy who disrobed to reveal "the biggest fucking process you've ever seen".
Just thought I'd ruin your day by sharing that unpleasant reminiscence. It's certainly caused me many a difficult-to-explain snigger over the years in august gatherings like "process reengineering meetings".
I wonder what you think of processed peas.
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On the whole, Ross, I try not to think about processed peas at all. Though I do occasionally find myself wondering whether there's any truth in the story that Peter Fondlebum, trying to "get down with" the common folk by visiting a fish and chip shop somewhere in Ay-Oop country, actually did mistake mushy peas for guacamole.
Blair certainly has a way with words.
Oh, and it looks like you found pretty hooker!
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