fuggy

He said his decision would come as a "major shock" to those who know him, but added: "I want to know if I can achieve more without the highs and lows of the gay days and fuggy haze of booze."

We can get away with smoking inside for a few more weeks." At the fuggy Smithfield Bar and Restaurant, posters declared "Welcome to Smoke-on-Trent" and ashtrays overflowed with butts.

This is not some dodgy hippy activity but a rediscovered interest in what our ancestors first learnt in a fuggy cave - that smoke not only preserves food but gives it a distinct and pleasant flavour too.

If, as we are urged, we are to let the "train take the strain" I trust that the railways will ensure that this happy band of techno-twits are rightfully incarcerated in their own fuggy little carriages, away from normal human beings.

I refuse to go into some pubs because I won't breathe fuggy air and I go ballistic in restaurants when someone at the next table shoves an outstretched arm - complete with a smoking cigarette - away from their face and into mine.

fuggy, draughty withal, rat-stricken, primeval, crampt, and crowded, yet housing.

So far the ban had not cut down my personal consumption because of the walks between pubs, but it had undermined my rosy recollection of cosy, friendly, fuggy Irish hostelries.

Some houseplant lovers grow a number of plants in the same room, - usually the fuggy living room.

David Blunkett's recent decision to reclassify the drug as a less harmful intoxicant may or may not signal the start of our society's slide into fuggy anarchy, but the effect on our musicians is far more predictable.

The odd whiff of chip fat stabs the air, which is then overwhelmed by a waft from that glistening 'meat' which revolves endlessly behind the fuggy but friendly takeaway counters that line the street.

Our Kyle went fuggy an' Our Charlie 'ad a little go then I shot meself on to it big style givin' it Geronimo an that an' some nowt musta sawed the branch through or sommat coz it just went like.

Gone are the fuggy dives and used notes of Dave's youth, replaced by non-smoking casinos and fat cheques.

I open the door and stand poised between the fuggy warmth of one world and the icy coldness of another.

No editor I have since encountered was so exacting, or so right." We learn, too, when and where the old life ended: in 1961, at the British Embassy in West Germany, "a sprawling industrial eyesore on the dual carriageway between Bonn and Bad Godesberg," filled with "the fuggy Rhineland air." Here was the start: "My past life entered its unstoppable demise, and my writing life began."