A dramatic 6-year-old tries her hand at shoveling snow

[Nanohedron]

In retrospect, "common" wasn't the best choice of words for the US, either; but neither ought anyone in the States be flummoxed by "Beer me," even if it's their first time hearing it. Of course it means "Give me beer," in a friendly way; from my end that's the only translation available. It's often met with a chuckle. I've used the bon mot, friends have used it, I've heard complete strangers use it. It's not necessarily an everyday thing, but it's out there.

In a local newspaper there used to be a weekly opinion column, "The Verbing of America" (I acknowledge it to be thought a presumptuous title from some angles, but that is another discussion), where the latest ferreted-out crossovers were held up for vilification, approval, or a meh. IIRC - it was a while back - most contributors were prescriptivists throwing ashes on their heads and rending their garments, but good cases were made from time to time. I'll admit there are some examples I still have a deep aversion to: "impact" as a verb would be a big one, but somehow I'm okay with it in a dental context. I can't win.

[benhall.1]

In retrospect, "common" wasn't the best choice of words for the US, either; but neither ought anyone in the States be flummoxed by "Beer me," even if it's their first time hearing it. Of course it means "Give me beer," in a friendly way; from my end that's the only translation available. It's often met with a chuckle. I've used the bon mot, friends have used it, I've heard complete strangers use it. It's not necessarily an everyday thing, but it's out there.

I can kind of get that. Here, where things are, arguably, simpler, it would probably be a challenge: "Go on then! Throw your beer on my head and try to glass me in the face with your glass! I promise you, I'll get you first!"

Something friendly along those lines ...

I don't like nouns as verbs at all.

Interestingly, I think you're wrong about the word 'impact'. At least according to Chambers, that one started out as a verb and has become a noun. It comes from the Latin verb participle 'impactus', and came into English first as a verb. Or so I'm led to believe.

[david_h]

Sorry, a bit late with the .... out constructs, but think it is something where a verbed noun would often be understood in context - even if the grammatically minded were offended.

Most people are familiar with 'worn out' and 'tired out'. At the end of a day focused one thing I have often heard people say they were <thinged> out in the sense of no longe being able to concentrate on or absorb any more about <thing>. Listeners understood what they meant by the construct in that context.

If at the end of a period where a number of things could of gone either way but none of them went the way someone wanted they said "I think I am lucked out" would people like Nano understand it even though it's the opposite of their normal usage?

[daveboling]

As far as "I could care less" goes, I have heard it in a longer phrase ""I could care less, but it's not worth the effort", so both versions imply indifference, but from different directions. Since tone of voice is relied upon to "finish" the thought, it doesn't translate well to print for those who haven't heard it spoken.
It's similar to "Bless your heart", a common phrase here in the Southeast US. The two possible meanings are conveyed by tone of voice. It doesn't help that often both sentiments are rolled up together in varying proportions.

dave boling

[Nanohedron]

Here, where things are, arguably, simpler, it would probably be a challenge ...

I'm not so sure about "simpler". On my end that's definitely a complication.

I don't like nouns as verbs at all.

See, for me they're playful. But it can't be done willy-nilly; the only way I would say "Glass me" is if I were offered the choice between a mug or a glass, say. More probably I would say, "A glass, please." "Beer me" is quite different: it says, "I'm here for beer, so just slather me in it and pour it down my happy gullet as I joyfully wallow in beerness." Again, put simply, "Beer me" means "Give me beer". That's it. So too, in varying degrees of success, with any number of commodities (at the garden shop: "Pesticide or ladybugs?" "Ladybug me."), and off the top of my head I can't think of any alternative meanings for the form other than as in "Google me", because Googling is not a giving but an extraction, and no one can give you what already figuratively owns you, anyway.

Both sides of the Pond use "pen" and "chair" as verbs, so from my end, there's nothing untoward in extending the device, but as I said, sometimes it works, and sometimes it doesn't. "Glass" as a verb in the midst of a bar spat is so unlikely as to be downright strange. In the extremely unlikely event I were to strike someone with a glass, I wouldn't say I glassed them; the phrase would only work if hitting people with a glass were so customary as to be expected. When embroiled in the heat of conflict, we tend away from flights of editorial fancy, for there's business afoot. And I can tell you I wouldn't threaten; as a practical matter, I don't believe in broadcasting my tactical plans. The only warning they need is to back off. "Back off": there's another one. See, that's one of the things I love about English: so much of it is double-duty and stretchy, and most of the time we don't even realize we're doing it. It makes for a lively tongue.

As you might guess, de-escalation is my preferred strategy. Peace, dude.

"Glass" as a verb is more likely in the case of spaces, such as a conservatory: "No worries about the weather; it's all glassed in." IOW, the space is entirely enclosed by glass, and staunch enough for shelter. Not only is "glass" verbed, but adding to the outrage, "in" works as an adverb, just as in "worn out". Talk about stretchy.

I had a raconteur friend who, given a choice of meats for his order, said to the server, "Pork me." His wife was not amused. It was the 80s, by the way.

Interestingly, I think you're wrong about the word 'impact'. At least according to Chambers, that one started out as a verb and has become a noun.

I never would have guessed. Fascinating, this ebb and flow we ride on - mainly unbeknownst - in our language.

If at the end of a period where a number of things could of gone either way but none of them went the way someone wanted they said "I think I am lucked out" would people like Nano understand it even though it's the opposite of their normal usage?

I would understand it indeed; here I understood it right away, and found myself pleasantly surprised. I'd never considered this detail before, but for me, the "am" changes everything, so that "I'm lucked out" and "I lucked out" have completely opposite meanings. Totally makes no sense, I'm sure.

As far as "I could care less" goes, I have heard it in a longer phrase ""I could care less, but it's not worth the effort" ...

Now the formation is redeemed and makes grammatic sense, but that's the only way it can work for me, for without the explaining bit, it's a non-starter. Can't say as I've ever heard the longer version before, and TBH the sentiment's not one I would ever entertain (that's the basis of Ben's and my objection to it: How - and why - could one be able to care less about something for which one already cares nothing at all, really?), but I get it, so far as it goes. Still not going to use it, though: When I care nothing for something, there's no further to go.

[Katharine]

I don't like nouns as verbs at all.

See, for me they're playful. But it can't be done willy-nilly

I feel like turning nouns into verbs in the U.S. is a thing done to be "cute," but then it's completely overdone. Say it once or twice, haha, somebody's using language in a novel way. But people don't give up after once or twice... it turns into a common thing. Everyone does it, often. And it's no longer cute or funny or novel. It's just a bunch of people using bad grammar because they're overdoing a joke. It's the same as someone who doesn't know how to stop with humor-- they utter a funny phrase or tell a joke, and they get a laugh, so they think that's a cue to use it all. the. time. and it gets old and annoying rather than remaining funny.

[Nanohedron]

I feel like turning nouns into verbs in the U.S. is a thing done to be "cute," but then it's completely overdone. Say it once or twice, haha, somebody's using language in a novel way. But people don't give up after once or twice... it turns into a common thing. Everyone does it, often. And it's no longer cute or funny or novel. It's just a bunch of people using bad grammar because they're overdoing a joke. It's the same as someone who doesn't know how to stop with humor-- they utter a funny phrase or tell a joke, and they get a laugh, so they think that's a cue to use it all. the. time. and it gets old and annoying rather than remaining funny.

But modern English does this all the time as a matter of course, you see. It's not all cuteness and fads, and it's definitely not strictly a US phenomenon. With a nod to the standard objections over being too free with one's grammar, do excuse the following lark: The question is not whether to verb or not to verb nouns (we also verb adjectives as well as noun them, and - returning to Earth - turn verbs into nouns as well, as we shall see), but rather, the question implied here is where is the line to be drawn? I think in English such proposed limits are mostly born of convention, and convention being mutable, I don't even consider the question of limits to be a valid one most of the time, because modern English is so weakly inflected that a lot of our words can do double duty very well indeed. For example: I go for a walk. If "walk" is a verb, what is this? "Go for a walk" is not considered "cute" speech, but normal. On its own, the word "walk" is really neither fish nor fowl, but can only be categorized and given meaning by how it is used. There's no other way for it. So too for wax, bed, book, sling, breach, yellow, fork, knife, spoon, dish, plate, cart - all of these perform at least double duty, and no one seems to object. Eggs are inspected by being candled: a noun is used as a verb, here. And the word "egg" itself? Structures and people are egged as an act of violation: same thing. A poet might say that the evening purpled, and that's not considered so outlandish. "But poetry is different," one might object, but: it's still English. The number of these words is so great that I don't think they can easily be counted. Pen, chair (both previously noted), flower, blossom, bud, bloom, sprout, shout, slide, fall, hit, strike, pocket, word - the list goes on. To simply say that because these are established they are therefore acceptable, yet others are not, introduces an arbitrary membership that has no basis in the language itself. Then do I say I wallet my money? No. By and large, I speak the English of my time. But "wallet my money" is easily understood, and that's the point, so given what English is capable of, what's to say that people won't say it years hence and think nothing of it? This is about current conventions in English, but those conventions aren't written in stone; even the most plain, buttoned-down English has proven too fluid over time for that. Yet however it mutates, this very flexibility gives modern English its special communicative power, and that power is why I love this language. Anyway, that's my take on it.

Take, button, love, power, water, school, hunt, bag, net, fish, hook, pencil, picture, paint, brush, chisel, pipe, throw, toss, kick, litter ... on and on. The abundance of flexible words - and that's just the "acceptable" ones - becomes almost overwhelming when you start noticing them, such that you're presented no longer with a mere list, but an overarching principle that we apply selectively according to the tastes of our time. Speaking of which, I think we should bring back "beshrew".

[david_h]

https://www.bl.uk/shakespeare/articles/ ... innovation

"The verb neologisms in the plays are some of Shakespeare's most powerful linguistic creations – and it is worth noting that large numbers of them started out in life as nouns. Indeed, this method of coining new verbs is so frequent, it's almost as if he saw every noun as having a potential verb lurking inside it. "

[Nanohedron]

Always a big fan of the Bard. It's his fault. Well, not really, but he definitely celebrated word-stretching.

[Nanohedron]

Just to check, the other day I asked a friend if "Beer me" made sense to him, and right away he said, "Of course." Might be a regionalism, but I kind of doubt it. I wouldn't say "Drink me," though; everybody'd be looking around for the Cheshire cat. Nor would I say, "Cocktail me"; it suggests I don't know what I want, and bartenders really hate that. Not one's best foot forward.

In principle one could say "[verbed noun] me" for just about anything, but over here "Beer me" holds such pride of place that it doesn't leave a whole lot of room for anything else.

[Moof]

Most of the verbed nouns make sense to my British ears, but not "beer me".

This is because there's a tradition of throwing cold beverages at someone who's really, really annoyed you. "Beer me" just sounds like a pleasing invitation, especially if you've never actually beered anybody before.

"Lunch me" sounds fine as a way of telling a colleague you're hungry, but "sandwich me" might also be read as an invitation to food-related assault. Or result in a sexual misconduct at work hearing.

[Nanohedron]

Most of the verbed nouns make sense to my British ears, but not "beer me".

This is because there's a tradition of throwing cold beverages at someone who's really, really annoyed you.

In my land we value our adult beverages, so as we would say on witnessing such a waste: That's just plain alcohol abuse.

I haven't seen much drink-throwing at all in the States; when it happens, bystanders tend to be scandalized and look down on it as bad form. Outright conflict ain't the way in our bars, generally, but of course there are exceptions: Years ago I saw someone attack someone else from behind with a sturdy glass mug, breaking it over their head - that was a blow indeed - and the act was so uncharacteristic and low that we still talk about it. I lost touch with the story after that, so I don't know if the attacker was prosecuted, but odds are certain that he was banned from that bar for life. Would we say the victim had been mugged? Only as a pun.

"Beer me" just sounds like a pleasing invitation, especially if you've never actually beered anybody before.

A first time for everything, I suppose. But you know, I believe I wouldn't use it outside of North America anyway, just out of reflex. Wouldn't seem right, somehow; that in-crowd ends with our shores.

Or result in a sexual misconduct at work hearing.

Over here we too use "sandwich" as a verb to indicate between-ness of many sorts, hanky-panky not being the least of them. Not food assault, though. Not by a long shot. I'm starting to form a picture of the British as a testy bunch.

[Moof]

I'm starting to form a picture of the British as a testy bunch.

Oh, I like to think so!

[david_h]

The past participle may serve as an introduction. "We stopped for lunch at a pub. When beered and sandwiched we continued on our way."

[Nanohedron]

The past participle may serve as an introduction. "We stopped for lunch at a pub. When beered and sandwiched we continued on our way."

This, sir, is English in full flower. Colloquial as hell, but unassailable lyrical English. I probably wouldn't use it in the factory, but would admire it on the page.

I get that it's not for everyone. But what a playground!

"Lunch me" sounds fine as a way of telling a colleague you're hungry ...

Not over here. It would mean simply that A wants lunch from B - as a fine point, saying you're hungry, while closely related, is rather different - so "Lunch me" would more be said to a server or the like, in the immediate environs. Said to a colleague, it suggests that I want them to buy me lunch. A bit out of place, that, and brash, so I wouldn't use it that way at all unless the prospect of a meal's been offered to me, and I'm declaring my choice - but in some cases it would be entirely inappropriate, so just better not to start. All awkward usages there, and they're too unlikely as exchange scenarios for me to even consider them. Just because you can do something, it doesn't mean you ought to.

"Beer me", however, is different because it's a workhorse of jolly party talk that gets a grammatic pass every time you are in proximity to a tap (or bottles and cans), and a ready tap matters, without which there's no point in saying it; otherwise it's totally out of context and apropos of nothing. Let me rephrase: For "Beer me" to be in correct use, beer must already be on hand so you can have some upon request - as you are doing. An appropriate reply would be a casual "Here you go," and absence of malice on all sides would be the expected mode (and I never dreamt I would have to stipulate that, of all things). So with that detail squared away, say it with confidence when on Left Pond soil, and ignore the grammar police; culturally, "Beer me" is sacred ground. You have but to say the magic words, and so long as there's beer, a beer you shall have. In the glass. Well, you could always drink directly from the nozzle like a frat boy, but I would want less gauche company.

We used to have (I haven't heard it in a while) a different use for "lunch" as a verb: to indicate utter destruction. For example, "I lunched my car." You often draw out the L just a bit for intensity. Or, "My car was lunched." It's not so much news as it is a description. You could apply it to opportunities, reputation, etc. In principle you could have the following for a ruined meal: "How was lunch?" "Totally lllunched." I wouldn't go there, though, unless I were trying to be cute. Come to think of it, I really don't say "lunch" with that meaning anymore; haven't for some time, now. Maybe I've just learned not to break stuff.

There's a song, "The Ladies Who Lunch" - verbalated noun, there - but it's clear that the only thing they are destroying is their sandwiches.