The monetary slang “buck” dates to a time before the U.S. adopted paper money. It likely references another tangible item that was commonly used as currency long ago.
Whether you’re talking about clams, moolah, Benjamins, or simoleons, there’s no shortage of English slang for money. Among the most popular terms is the word “buck,” which is so commonplace, you may not have even realized it’s slang. It can be used to refer to a single U.S. dollar, or in common expressions such as “borrow a few bucks” and “make a quick buck” (in reference to earning a sum of money). To better understand where the word comes from, however, we need to go back to the early 18th century, a time before the U.S. adopted federally issued paper currency.
During the 1700s, deer hides — also called buckskins — were commonly used in trades between American frontiersmen and North American Indigenous communities. Animal pelts were viewed as durable and highly valuable, and they became a driving force of the bartering economy.
In an interview with Reader’s Digest, lexicographer Grant Barrett proposes a theory that “buck” came from “buckskin,” claiming that buckskins were bartered far and wide in the Americas by the 1740s. Britannica further notes the appearance of the abbreviation “bucks” (for “buckskins”) in a trader’s journal from 1748. Essentially, trading one buckskin was paying one buck for goods. While this theory connects bucks to bartering, we don’t find published evidence of it as slang for cash until the 1850s.
The United States had an interesting journey to get to the bills in your wallet today. The Coinage Act of 1792 established the U.S. Mint and regulated coins, but not banknotes. Paper currency can be traced to the 17th and 18th centuries — individual colonies issued their own currency, and continental currency was issued during the Revolutionary War — but there was not a national paper currency until 1861.
While the buckskin explanation is considered the most reputable, Barrett proposed two other commonly discussed theories in his interview with Reader’s Digest. One is that “buck” is derived from the poker table: An item was passed around the table to signify when a new jackpot must be made, and it was common to use a buckhorn-handled knife for this job. This usage might be the origin of the phrase “pass the buck,” which describes shifting responsibility onto someone else.
Another theory is that “buck” is a shortened version of “sawbuck,” an early nickname for the $10 bill. The earliest $10 notes featured a big “X” on the back — the Roman numeral for 10. This “X” evoked images of an X-shaped wooden rack known as a sawbuck, leading to the slang. However, the $10 bill was released in 1861, and evidence of the slang term “buck” connected to U.S. currency dates to the decade prior. Thus, the buckskin trading theory seems most likely.
It’s efficient to abbreviate words, especially when speaking and texting – but you may not realize how often you use common words that are already hiding abbreviations.
Some abbreviations are obvious — you type “lol” instead of “laughing out loud,” for example, and use “Tbsp.,” “tsp.,” and “c.” in a recipe that calls for tablespoons, teaspoons, and cups. You might even know the difference between acronyms (abbreviations that are said as a word, such as NASA) and initialisms (abbreviations pronounced with individual letters, such as FBI). But there are many more sneaky abbreviations hiding in your everyday speech.
Can you find all 18 abbreviations in this story about Sally’s day off?
On her day off, Sally read an op-ed column, in which she found several typos. She wanted to go to the gym, but instead of taking a bus or a cab, she took a ride-sharing service. Before leaving her apartment, she found ingredients in her fridge from a local deli to make a carb-loaded sub sandwich.
Sally then went to work on her abs and hammies in a co-ed yoga class she learned about from an ad that created hype about the rizz of the yoga instructor. But the woman next to her, wearing camo yoga pants, apparently had the flu, so Sally left and went to a café for decaf coffee.
Now read the same story with the common abbreviations spelled out:
On her day off, Sally read an opposite-the-editorial-page column, in which she found several typographical errors. She wanted to go to the gymnasium, but instead of taking an omnibus or cabriolet, she took a ride-sharing service. Before leaving her apartment, she found ingredients in her refrigerator from a local delicatessen to make a carbohydrate-loaded submarine sandwich.
Sally then went to work on her abdominals and hamstrings in a co-educational yoga class she learned about from an advertisement that created hyperbole about the charisma of the yoga instructor. But the woman next to her, wearing camouflage yoga pants, apparently had influenza, so Sally left and went to a café for decaffeinated coffee.
The function of an abbreviation is to reduce any word to its essence. Technically, it’s shrinking a word to its morpheme, the smallest unit of meaning, for efficiency. Let’s explain some of the most common hidden abbreviations.
Advertisement
Typo
The word “typographical” hearkens back to the early days of the printing press, in the 16th century. The abbreviated “typo” was coined in the 19th century — back then, each printed page was built from tiny metal letters set by hand, backward and line by line, then locked in place, inked, and pressed onto paper. “Typo” referred to when the typesetter made an error in their placement, and the abbreviation has persisted ever since, now applying to mistakes made by any writer using a keyboard.
Rizz
This recent coinage, popular among Gen Z and Gen Alpha, is short for “charisma.” The versatile “rizz” can be used as a noun (“she’s got rizz”) or a verb (“to rizz up” a person by using charisma to attract them), with variants including the comparative “rizzier.”
App
We use smartphone apps for a million things a day, usually without realizing that “app” is short for “application.” In the context of computers, the abbreviation originated in the 1970s, when it referred to an application program, which is software developed to solve a specific user problem. “App” was popularized in 1985 when Apple launched the MacApp, and it further spread in 2008 when Apple launched the App Store.
Advertisement
Bus
The etymology of the word reflects the function of a bus, which is to enable anyone to hitch a ride on it. “Bus” comes from the Latin “omnibus,” the dative plural of “omnis,” meaning “all.” The abbreviation is short for the French voiture omnibus, a carriage for all.
Cab
In 18th-century London, a light horse-drawn carriage was a cabriolet, colloquially known as a cab. “Cabriolet” is ultimately from the Latin “capreolus,” meaning “wild goat” — appropriate because it had springy suspensions. “Cab” first applied to transportation for hire at the end of the 19th century. The related “taxi” is short for “taximeter cab,” introduced in London in 1907, from the Latin “taxa,” meaning “tax, charge.”
Deli
The German word “Delikatessen,” a plural of “Delikatesse,” means “delicacy, fine food.” The shortened “deli” became common in America in the mid-1900s, shortly after World War II. Delis were especially popular in big cities such as New York, which were influenced by Jewish immigrant culture.
Advertisement
Sub
Submarine sandwiches became popular around the mid-20th century, so named because of their submarine-like appearance. One theory is that they originated in New London, Connecticut, during World War II, when workers at a local Navy shipyard popularized “submarine” to describe the sandwich shaped like the ships they were working on.
You’ve probably heard the fanciful phrases “a murder of crows,” “a conspiracy of lemurs,” or even better, “a flamboyance of flamingos.” These are known as terms of venery — collective nouns that refer to groups of animals. When outside of the animal kingdom, there are collective nouns that apply to physical objects or people of various persuasions. Some of these collective nouns are surprising, so let’s look at 10 strange examples.
A Neverthriving of Jugglers
This collective noun first appeared in the 1486 Book of St. Albans, where it was written in Middle English as neuthriuyng of iogoleris. (The letter “J” was the final letter added to our alphabet in the 17th century, so an “I” is seen in older writings.) Use of this noun is rare and humorous in nature, as it implies that jugglers have a reputation for failing to thrive financially in the pursuit of their hobby.
A Misbelief of Painters
The term “misbelief of painters” was specifically coined in reference to portrait artists. It comes from the idea that these artists were hired by wealthy patrons, and it was the duty of the painter to portray their patron in a positive light — even if it meant exaggerating a feature or two. Many portrait artists drew excessively flattering depictions of their subjects, thus creating a sense of misbelief.
An Abominable Sight of Monks
Though the word “abominable” is most often used to describe the mythical Himalayan snowman, it was once used in reference to large companies of monks. Back in the 15th century, monks were highly unpopular, as they tended to eat well and live more comfortable lives than the general population. Hence, groups of monks were considered to be an abominable sight, defined as something “worthy of causing disgust or hatred.”
Advertisement
A Superfluity of Nuns
In the 15th century, nuns weren’t as unpopular as monks, but the sheer number of them contributed to their collective noun. In fact, it’s estimated that there were 142 nunneries in England, housing over 2,000 nuns by the 1530s. The unusual collective noun “superfluity” is defined as “excess” or “oversupply.”
A Shriek of Claques
The term “claque” comes from the French claquer, meaning “to clap,” and it refers to a group hired to applaud at a performance. In the 19th century, these hired hands were tasked with crying out and shouting during performances to influence the rest of the audience to do the same. However, many composers, including Wagner and Mahler, despised claques. Their unsavory reputation eventually led to the coining of “a shriek of claques,” with “shriek” meaning “to cry out in a high-pitched voice.”
A Shudder of Clowns
If you’re afraid of clowns, you’re not alone. So it’s only appropriate that a group of clowns is called a shudder — as in a shudder down your spine when you see a clown. Another humorous way to refer to a group of clowns is with the collective noun “carload,” a play on the old circus trope where a large group of clowns crammed into a tiny car for humorous effect.
Advertisement
An Argumentation of Historians
This collective noun was made especially popular by British fantasy author Jodi Taylor, who used it as the title of a 2018 book. The word “argumentation” is defined as “the act or process of forming reasons and of drawing conclusions” — something that historians must do while debating and determining the validity of past events.
A Smashing of Luddites
In modern parlance, a luddite is a person who adheres to old standards and is opposed to technological change. However, the term was first coined in reference to 19th-century members of the English working class who destroyed labor-saving machinery in an act of protest. This collective noun pays homage to the origin of the word “luddite.”
A Grumbling of Buses
Children’s author Alastair Reid wrote the delightful work Ounce, Dice, Trice in 1958. In that book he coined several collective nouns, including “a grumbling of buses.” This refers to the reverberating grumble that buses frequently make as they idle in traffic and barrel down city streets.
Advertisement
A Stampede of Philatelists
Generally, the term “stampede” conjures images of an oncoming and unstoppable throng. But in this case, the stampede is most likely to be wandering around a stamp-collecting convention. The word “philatelist” means “someone who collects stamps,” so a stampede of philatelists has less to do with the traditional meaning of “stampede” and more to do with a punny take on the stamp-collecting hobby.
Language can get complicated when we travel across the pond, despite the prevalence of English on both sides of the Atlantic. For American travelers, underwear suddenly becomes pants, a car’s trunk is called a boot, and an apartment is a flat. It can all be a little confusing and potentially embarrassing. And when it comes to food, more problems can arise. French fries are chips, chips are crisps, and eggplant and arugula are aubergine and rocket, respectively. And then there’s this food-related conundrum: Is it a cookie or a biscuit — or both?
Digging Into the Etymology
To understand the international confusion that arises with biscuits and cookies, it’s worth first having a look at the etymologies of both words. They tell you exactly what the terms originally meant — and neither meaning is quite the same as how the words are used today.
“Biscuit” comes from the Old French besquit or biscuit (derived from Latin), in which the prefix bes means “twice” or “doubly,” and cuit means “to bake” or “to cook” — therefore giving “biscuit” a literal meaning of “twice baked.” This referred to an ancient, precise method in which dough was first baked as a loaf, then cut into slices and baked again until it was completely dry and hard. The result was a shelf-stable ration that was eaten by Roman soldiers, sailors on months-long voyages, and Arctic explorers, precisely because the twice-baked biscuits contained almost no moisture and therefore didn’t spoil. So, a biscuit, in its original sense, was often a survival food (sometimes known as “hardtack”) — not exactly what your average Brit dunks in their afternoon tea.
The word “cookie,” meanwhile, comes from the Dutch koekje of the 17th century, literally meaning “little cake.” The word was brought to America by Dutch settlers and became established in American English during the 18th century. In 1796, Amelia Simmons wrote about cookies in her bookAmerican Cookery: The Art of Dressing Viands, Fish, Poultry, and Vegetables. These were not double-baked like biscuits — instead, they were half an inch thick, cut to “the shape you please,” and baked for 15 to 20 minutes in a “slack oven,” after which they were apparently “good [for] three weeks.” Simmons’ cookies were soft, rich, and cakelike — not quite the same as modern American cookies, but entirely different from the hard, twice-baked biscuits of the time.
Advertisement
The Biscuit vs. Cookie Debate Today
Now that we know the origins of both words, we can turn our attention to the cookies and biscuits of today. In the United Kingdom, the hard, double-baked biscuit of old evolved into something sweeter, crumblier, and more luxurious. The word “biscuit” increasingly began to refer to small, flat, sweet baked goods that are hard (but not that hard) and rigid — something you’d nibble and dunk in a cup of tea.
Today, these biscuits include digestives, rich tea biscuits, custard creams, jammie dodgers, ginger nuts, Hobnobs, and many more — and they are all what Americans would call cookies. But in Britain, “cookie” means something far more specific. It refers either to shop-bought chocolate chip cookies — hard, but crumbly, and sold in packets — or to soft, large, chewy treats, traditionally containing chocolate chips or nuts, that are sold in bakeries. In the U.K., both can be referred to as cookies but fall more broadly under the label of biscuits.
In the United States, meanwhile, small, sweet baked goods of many different flavors are nearly always called cookies. What Americans call a biscuit is an entirely different food altogether — a soft, fluffy, quick-leavened bread product. These biscuits are a staple of Southern cuisine, typically served hot with butter or jelly, alongside fried chicken, or smothered in gravy. The closest British equivalent to an American biscuit is a scone — which, as any British person will tell you, is emphatically not a biscuit but rather its own type of baked good, normally eaten with jam and cream.
Advertisement
To summarize: What Britain calls a biscuit, America calls a cookie. What America calls a biscuit, Britain calls a scone. And what Britain calls a cookie — the chocolate chip or large, chewy variety, both falling under the wider biscuit label — America also calls a cookie, but in a far more general sense. And now that that’s cleared up, it’s time to have a nice cup of tea and a biscuit — or maybe coffee and a cookie.
In person, you might convey excitement through your facial features or physical activity. In writing, however, “I am excited” can be read as less-than-exciting. Try some of these expert-level synonyms to show fervent enthusiasm.
The word “excited” is English’s go-to word to convey energy, enthusiasm, or eagerness. It first appeared in the 1650s in a physical sense, meaning “magnetically or electrically stimulated,” and eventually earned its modern emotional sense 200 years later. While “excited” is firmly cemented in the lexicon, there are plenty of other ways to express that feeling. Among the most practical synonyms for mild enthusiasm are “interested,” “eager,” and “looking forward to.” To show more intense emotion, you might use “thrilled,” “delighted,” “energized,” “elated,” “overjoyed,” or “ecstatic.”
These practical replacements deserve a spot in your repertoire, but there are even more unusual ways to convey excitement. For instance, you might channel 1960s California surf culture and use “stoked” while talking to a friend, or follow the Brits’ lead and say “buzzing” when you’re vibrating with happy energy. Here are some less common but more colorful ways to say you’re excited.
Fervent
More formal and emotionally intense than “excited,” “fervent” is a good stand-in when the context calls for deeply felt enthusiasm or passion: “The audience gave a fervent response to the speech.” The word suggests not just excitement, but also devotion or wholeheartedness. It comes from the Latin ferventem, meaning “boiling, hot, glowing,” and retains this secondary meaning today for “very hot,” as in, “The fervent coals glowed all night.”
Over the Moon
“Over the moon” is originally a British idiom. It conveys excitement, with undertones of being overly happy or delighted, as in, “We are over the moon about Katie’s acceptance to college.” Some sources cite the nursery rhyme “Hey Diddle Diddle” as the origin for the expression: “Hey diddle, diddle, / The Cat and the Fiddle, / The Cow jump’d over the Moon.” The rhyme dates back to at least the 16th century in oral tradition, and the idiom was used separately from the verse beginning in the early 18th century. It appeared in a novel by Charles Molly in 1718: “Tis he! I know him now: I shall jump over the Moon for Joy!”
Advertisement
Raring
If you’re ready to get something done, you might say you’re “raring to go.” This underutilized term conveys eagerness and enthusiasm. It comes from the verb “rare,”a dialectal variant of “rear” meaning “rise on the hind legs.” A horse at the starting line, for example, will rare in excitement. This usage related to horses and other animals appeared in the 1830s. “Raring to go” — in the sense of eagerness — was first recorded in 1909.
Ardent
If you’re a fan of Jane Austen’s Pride and Prejudice, you may recognize this term from one of Mr. Darcy’s most famous lines: “I love you. Most ardently.” Here, the word conveys passion. It isn’t limited to romantic contexts, though. “Ardent” can also convey excitement and eagerness with an added sense of warmth or admiration, as in, “The concert was full of ardent fans.”
Champing at the Bit
This idiom conveys restless impatience or extreme eagerness: “They were champing at the bit for the sequel to be released.” The saying comes from horse racing, where “champ” means “to bite,” as racehorses do on the bits in their mouths. “Chomping at the bit” is a popular variant of this saying, and although the meaning remains the same (because “chomp” is a synonym for “champ”), “champing” is the original and preferred term according to style guides and dictionaries.
Advertisement
Zeal
“Zeal” means “eagerness and enthusiastic interest in pursuit of something,” especially a cause, goal, or activity: “She showed great zeal in her hobbies.” You might also say, “The interns were zealous in their efforts to impress management.” While the adjective form isn’t always a direct substitute for “excited” — you probably wouldn’t say, “I’m zealous about tonight’s concert” — it works well when the enthusiasm is directed toward a goal or outcome.
Agog
“Agog” means “full of intense interest or excitement,” as in, “Everyone was agog over the fireworks display.” It’s often followed by a preposition, such as “over” or “about.” It likely stems from the Middle French phrase en gogues, meaning “in a state of mirth” (“gladness or gaiety as shown by or accompanied with laughter”). “Agog” has been used in English for more than 450 years and can also be a synonym for “astonished” or “agape,” as in, “They stood with their mouths agog.”
Advertisement
Gung Ho
“The team is gung ho about starting the new project.” This adjective describes extreme enthusiasm. “Gung ho” was adopted into U.S. slang during the 1940s, but it comes from the Chinese term “kung ho,” meaning “work together” or “cooperate.” It was notably the motto of Carlson’s Raiders, a Marine battalion that operated in the Pacific during World War II.
The Most Overused Transitions (and Good Replacements)
Transition words do some heavy lifting in our writing, but we often repeat the same ones. Try one of these fresher alternatives to organize your thoughts.
Transition words and phrases — such as “also,” “however,” and “in addition” — form a lexical bridge between ideas. They help readers follow contrast, agreement, cause and effect, examples, sequence, conclusions, and more. But some transitions are used so often that they can sound automatic or boring.
Even famous authors fall victim to using familiar transitions. Take, for instance, the repeated transition “then” in this excerpt from Lewis Carroll’s Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland:
Then she went to work nibbling at the mushroom (she had kept a piece of it in her pocket) till she was about a foot high: then she walked down the little passage: and then — she found herself at last in the beautiful garden, among the bright flower-beds and the cool fountains.
Common transitions still serve an important purpose in English, but there are often better choices. Here are some of the most commonly used transitions, along with stronger replacements to fine-tune your writing.
Advertisement
Transitions for Opposition and Contradiction
Transitions are frequently used to express an alternative in order to switch gears to a new line of reasoning. Writers often lean on tried-and-true transitions such as “however,” “but,” and “though” to introduce this contrast. Consider the example, “The team played a great game. However, they lost in the final seconds.” These reliable words are effective when used sparingly — they’re often seen in academic writing, business jargon, and novels — but when overused, they lose their impact.
Depending on the context and sentence structure, consider alternatives such as “on the other hand,” “by contrast,” “in spite of,” “even so,” “that said,” and “nevertheless.” These transitions can add variety and interest — for example, “The team played a great game. Even so, they lost in the final seconds.”
Transitions for Agreement and Similarity
Other transitions, such as “also,” “likewise,” and “moreover,” reinforce an idea, whether by adding additional information or indicating agreement. These are used in all types of writing, from casual text messages to formal legal documents. Take this example: “The new café has excellent matcha. Also, they have freshly baked pastries.” Here, the use of “also” feels choppy. Other times, common transitions are repeated so frequently that they feel lazy.
Mixing in tone- and context-specific alternatives such as “not to mention,” “what’s more,” “in the same way,” and “equally important” can make these connections feel more natural or conversational. Consider this replacement: “The new café has excellent matcha. Not to mention, they have freshly baked pastries.”
Transitions for Cause and Effect
In academic writing, analysis, journalism, and other technical writing, transitions that show cause and effect are especially common — and necessary. They help organize arguments and ideas clearly, but repeated use can sound awkward or overly formal. Popular choices for cause-and-effect transitions include “therefore,” “thus,” and “as a result,” as in: “The city is experiencing budget cuts. Therefore, public transportation routes will be impacted.”
Depending on the situation, phrases like “as such,” “in turn,” “consequently,” and “for that reason” can add variety without altering the meaning. Sometimes, the replacement creates a more natural flow: “The city is experiencing budget cuts. Consequently, public transportation routes will be impacted.”
Advertisement
Transitions for Examples and Emphasis
Transitions are especially helpful for introducing examples or for emphasizing a point. “For example,” “for instance,” and “specifically” are among the most-used transitions in this category. They indicate clarification or supporting details are forthcoming, which can help guide the reader through complex ideas. But for all the good that they do, overuse of common terms often feels bland: “Some Hawaiian islands have become tourist destinations — for example, Maui, O’ahu, and the Big Island.”
Alternative transitions like “notably,” “to illustrate,” “in particular,” “namely,” and “that is to say” might be better choices for your writing, especially if you’ve already used “for example” several times. Notice how this swap adds a more natural tone: “Some Hawaiian islands have become tourist destinations, in particular, Maui, O’ahu, and the Big Island.”
Transitions for Time and Sequence
Transitions such as “first,” “next,” and “then” help us follow an order of events. However, overusing them sounds mechanical. Consider this example: “First, we’ll review the current marketing campaign. Next, we’ll start brainstorming new content.”
Varying these transitions with words and phrases such as “meanwhile,” “moments later,” “following this,” “without delay,” “subsequently,” and “in the meantime” can create a more natural flow between ideas while still serving as a guide. They can also improve precision and give more details to the reader. These small tweaks can make a big difference: “Without delay, we’ll review the current marketing campaign. Following this, we’ll start brainstorming new content.”
Advertisement
Transitions for Summary and Conclusion
Some transitions help summarize ideas or signal an end. While useful, phrases such as “in conclusion,” “finally,” and “overall” can be overused and predictable, making your writing feel stiff or constricted. Consider this example: “In conclusion, your physical health is directly impacted by your mental health.” The final point is clear, but the transition is bland.
Depending on the tone, alternatives such as “in essence,” “in short,” “by and large,” and “above all” can make conclusions feel fresher. This small change makes this example more conversational: “In essence, your physical health is directly impacted by your mental health.”
That preposition at the end of your sentence? The one a teacher may have circled in red? It turns out the rule against it was never really a rule at all.
At some point you’ve probably been corrected for ending a sentence with a preposition — words such as “with,” “to,” or “about.” Maybe a teacher even circled it in red ink. There’s just one problem: This is a 17th-century misunderstanding that was never meant to be a hard-and-fast rule in English. The myth stems from centuries of trying to force English to behave like Latin, a language with completely different grammar.
Modern style guides and dictionaries overwhelmingly agree that ending a sentence with a preposition is perfectly acceptable. Even distinguished writers such as Shakespeare and Jane Austen regularly ended sentences with prepositions, providing evidence that it’s often the most natural choice. Here’s how this misleading so-called rule came to be.
What Are Prepositions?
Before we unravel the myth, let’s review prepositions. They’re typically simple, everyday words that show how other parts of speech (nouns, pronouns, phrases, etc.) are connected. Common examples include: “of,” “in,” “to,” “for,” “with,” “on,” “at,” “from,” “by,” and “about.” Prepositions indicate relationships, most often by showing direction (“She walked to the train”), location (“The book is on the table”), or time (“We left at noon”). They can also introduce an object, as in, “Prepositions are parts of speech.”
We use prepositions every day, and most native English speakers place them at the end of sentences without thinking twice. Consider these examples: “That’s the show I was telling you about” and “Who are you going with?”
This sentence structure is called preposition stranding — the preposition is separated from its object. For example, in “What are you looking for?” the preposition “for” is separated from its object, “what.” According to those against terminal prepositions, a preposition should appear only directly before its object: “For what are you looking?” But this sentence structure doesn’t flow naturally in conversational English.
Advertisement
Where the Rule Came From
The “never end a sentence in a preposition” rule did not originate in English. In fact, ending a sentence with a preposition has been the norm since the days of Old English. Instead, the rule sprang from 17th-century grammarians who admired Latin and believed English speakers should copy it — and Latin sentences cannot end in prepositions due to their grammatical structure.
Grammarian Joshua Poole is generally credited with adopting the rule into English, though poet John Dryden popularized it. Dryden was England’s first Poet Laureate and a literary critic. In 1672, he criticized fellow poet Ben Jonson for his grammar: “preposition in the end of the sentence; a common fault with him.” The made-up rule began to catch on and was seen as a sign of higher education. It had little to do with actual grammar and more to do with prestige. By the early 20th century, grammarians abandoned it as its popularity waned — yet teaching it as a rule still persists in some classrooms.
Why the Rule Fails in English
Some may recognize this rule against preposition stranding as a feature of Romance languages. Derived from Latin, Romance languages such as Spanish, Portuguese, French, and Italian still follow it today. However, English is a Germanic language, so its sentence structure calls for different rules.
In English, forcing prepositions away from the end of a sentence can sometimes feel awkward. For example, we naturally say, “Who are you talking to?” Moving the preposition from the end requires complete restructuring, resulting in a very formal question that sounds forced: “To whom are you talking?”
In another example, “This is the topic we were arguing about” becomes “This is the topic about which we were arguing” — the latter is undoubtedly awkward in everyday conversation. While both versions in these examples are grammatically correct, modern linguists generally agree that sentence-ending prepositions are completely acceptable and sound more natural.
Advertisement
Does This Rule Ever Apply?
In short, this is not a binding rule in English. No major modern style guides prohibit ending sentences with prepositions, and linguistic authorities, such as Merriam-Webster, state that terminal prepositions are perfectly fine. However, in very formal or academic writing, some teachers or writers may still prefer to reduce the number of sentences that end in prepositions, as it is a more conversational tone. But this is a stylistic preference, not a grammatical rule.
Ultimately, good writing and communication depend on clarity and natural flow — not on forcing English to imitate Latin. Sometimes the best place for a preposition is exactly where it’s been put for centuries: at the end of the sentence.
Words that are widely understood in a specific region may raise eyebrows in other parts of the United States. Here are some examples of hyperlocal terms that confuse out-of-towners.
Americans love regionalisms. Look no further than how people refer to soft drinks around the country — you’re likely to hear “soda,” “pop,” or “coke,” depending on whether you’re in the Northeast, Midwest, or Deep South. There are also terms that are used in much narrower regions and may not be known outside of a specific city or town. Here’s a look at some words and phrases that are understood among locals but are unfamiliar to other Americans.
Spuckie
A sandwich served on a long roll may be called a hoagie in the Mid-Atlantic or a sub in the Midwest. But to Bostonians, these hefty sandwiches are known as spuckies. This regionalism is derived from the Italian slang spucadella, which translates to “long roll.” However, spucadella isn’t a common word in Italy itself. It’s believed to have originated within Italian American communities in Boston, and it was then shortened as the name of a locally popular type of sandwich.
Junt
“Junt” — commonly heard in Memphis, Tennessee — is a variation of the word “joint” in the AAVE dialect. It’s used as a catchall word for any person, place, or thing. For a person, you might say, “I know that junt.” For places, you can say, “I’m headed to that junt.” And for things, you could say, “Hand me that junt.”
Devil’s Strip
Between the sidewalk and the curb, there’s often a thin strip of grass. To people who live in Akron, Ohio, that’s called the devil’s strip. While it’s not wholly clear where this regionalism originated, the Dictionary of American Regional English says that it might have to do with being a “sort of no-man’s-land between public and private property.”
Advertisement
Bahl Gorms
Boonville, California, is a tiny hamlet known for its own secret dialect called Boontling, which was created in the late 19th century. Of the many unusual terms in this language, one that caught our attention is “bahl gorms.” It means “good food,” with “bahl” meaning “good” and “gorms” meaning “food.” You could also say “bahl hornin’” for “good drinking,” and you can describe anything as the “bahlest” if it’s the absolute best.
Side By Each
Woonsocket, Rhode Island, has a historically large population of French Canadians who began migrating there in the 1840s. Their presence spawned a regional vernacular called New England French, which combines English words with French syntax. Of the many unique terms used by locals, one particularly interesting phrasing is “side by each” — an alternative to the more common version in English, “side by side.” For instance, a parking lot may be full of cars parked side by each.
Jit
The word “jit” is a regionalism from the city of Tampa, Florida, that’s used in reference to children, rookies, or anyone younger than yourself. There’s a debate over the origins of this term, but many folks believe that it’s an acronym for “junior in training.” “Jit” first became popular in the 1990s and early 2000s, primarily through local hip-hop culture.
St. Paul
A St. Paul sandwich naturally comes from St. Paul, Minnesota — the hometown of Steven Yuen, who created the recipe in the 1940s. Oddly, you probably won’t find a deli selling this sandwich in the Twin Cities, as it’s far more popular in St. Louis, Missouri, the city Yuen moved to. It’s a combination of American and Chinese fare, featuring an egg foo young patty, pickles, lettuce, tomato, and mayo between two slices of white bread.
Advertisement
Creemee
What most Americans know as soft serve, Vermonters call a creemee. Some think it’s derived from the French word “crème,” while others say it came about because of the high butterfat content that makes each scoop especially creamy. You might also wonder why the term is spelled “creemee” instead of “creamy” or “creamee.” There’s no clear answer, but that’s not of much concern to locals, who’ve embraced the regional spelling.
Whoopensocker
The term “whoopensocker,” referring to anything that’s extraordinary of its kind, is popular among Wisconsinites. It’s a combination of the terms “whoop,” which is largely used as an expression of jubilation, and “socker,” as in a punch that really knocks you over — in this case, with how awesome the thing is.
Advertisement
Jabble
Virginia is for lovers, but it’s also for jabbling. The term “jabble” has long existed in British English as a word that means “mental or emotional agitation.” Its meaning is more physical to Virginians, who define “jabble” as “to shake things up.” Just imagine you’re looking for your car keys in your bag, but they’re hard to find because everything has been jabbled around.
“Ms.” fits in the same category as the abbreviations “Mr.” and “Mrs.,” but it has a unique origin story. Learn how this honorific filled an important gap.
When we look carefully at the English language’s standard honorifics, a curious asymmetry presents itself. “Mr.,” “Mrs.,” and “Miss” all have reasonably straightforward etymological explanations based on the words they abbreviate. But what about “Ms.”? This honorific is something of an outlier, less common than its linguistic cousins and subject to more debate in many style guides. The King’s English Society went so far as to criticize “Ms.” as a “linguistic misfit” and “an abbreviation that is not short for anything.” This criticism is, in one sense, entirely correct — and in another sense, a little unfair. Here’s the full story of “Ms.” and how it earned its place in the English language.
The Etymology of Mr., Mrs., and Miss
The more standard English titles come from the same small family of words. We can start with Mr., an alteration of “Master,” which was a title of genuine authority, often indicating a man who had mastered a trade, commanded a household, or held social rank. Since the 17th century, it has been the customary prefix to the name of any man below the rank of knight. Over time, its use as an honorific broadened and softened, with “Mister” becoming the default polite address for any adult man — and “Mr.” being adopted as its common abbreviated spelling.
Mrs., meanwhile, is short for “Mistress” — it originally carried no implication of marriage whatsoever. In Shakespeare’s time, for example, “Mistress” was commonly used for businesswomen and women of authority, more akin to a direct female counterpart of “Master.” “Miss” is also an abbreviation of “Mistress.” By the 19th century, both feminine titles had come to be associated with marital status, “Mrs.” for married women and “Miss” for unmarried women — a narrowing that largely stripped the title of “Mistress” of its original sense of authority and replaced it with a declaration (in honorific form) about a woman’s relationship to a man.
Advertisement
The Emergence of Ms.
So, what about “Ms.”? Perhaps the most honest answer to the question “What does ‘Ms.’ abbreviate?” is: nothing. “Ms” (without the dot) was sometimes, but not often, used as an abbreviation of “Mistress” as far back as the 17th century — but it wasn’t the same as the honorific “Ms.” we use today, which is not an abbreviation in the same way that “Mr.” abbreviates “Mister.”
An early reference to the modern use of “Ms.” appeared in the Springfield Sunday Republican in Massachusetts in 1901. Here, an unnamed writer highlighted the “void in the English language” created by the new use of “Mrs.” and “Miss” to indicate a woman’s marital status. The writer argued that this usage left no honorific available to refer to a woman whose marital status was unknown to the speaker. This was simply impractical and could lead to an embarrassing social situation.
What was needed, the writer proposed, was “a more comprehensive term which does homage to the sex without expressing any views as to their domestic situation.” Their solution was “Ms.” (pronounced “Mizz”) — a combination of “Miss” and “Mrs.,” not as an abbreviation but rather as a hybrid. It was simple, easy to write, and provided an option when a woman’s marital status was unknown.
Advertisement
“Ms.” Goes Mainstream
It was a strong argument for “Ms.,” but the idea lay largely dormant, save for a few murmurings, until the early 1960s. Then came a turning point. While collecting her mail, feminist Sheila Michaels noticed a left-wing magazine addressed to her roommate as “Ms. Mary Hamilton.” It was a eureka moment — she had finally found an honorific that could be used for a woman who, as she put it, “did not ‘belong’ to a man.”
In 1969, Michaels brought up “Ms.” during a conversation about feminism on New York radio station WBAI. People took note of the idea, and within a year “Ms.” had become something of a feminist catchword — or at least the honorific equivalent of one. Then, in 1972, the feminist magazine Ms. — its name inspired by the Sheila Michaels interview — debuted on newsstands. The magazine gained a lot of publicity, helping to popularize “Ms.,” at least in certain circles.
By 1986, the title had gained enough traction to be formally adopted by TheNew York Times. When it first appeared on the paper’s front page, an editor’s note explained: “Until now ‘Ms’ had not been used because of the belief that it had not passed sufficiently into the language to be accepted as common usage. The Times now believe [sic] that ‘Ms’ has become part of the language and is changing its policy.”
After decades in the linguistic wilderness, “Ms.” had finally gained mainstream acceptance. And while technically it doesn’t abbreviate anything, it’s a very practical solution to an otherwise messy linguistic problem.
If you’ve been around anyone under the age of 16 lately, you might have felt like you’re speaking a different language. Here are some Gen Alpha terms that are likely to confuse anyone born in earlier generations.
Generation Alpha includes anyone born between 2010 and 2024 (Generation Beta is currently being born), so while some members of this generation are still learning to read, others in their teenage years have coined unique slang terms that have found widespread use in society.
This happens with every generation: The new kids on the block develop their own words and phrases, leaving folks born in previous generations to scratch their heads and wonder what these unfamiliar terms mean. But you don’t have to wonder anymore. Whether you’re a teacher looking to better understand your students, a grandparent who wants to bond with their grandkids, or just someone who loves language and wants to follow the trends, it’s worth keeping up with the newest Gen Alpha slang.
Ohio
With apologies to the state itself, Gen Alpha kids have adopted the word “Ohio” as slang for anything that’s weird or cringeworthy. It’s derived from a series of internet memes in the late 2010s that joked about all the weird things that happen “only in Ohio.” Now this slang term can be used either on its own — similar to how you’d say the word “weird” in response to seeing something unusual — or as part of a sentence, such as, “That’s so Ohio.”
Mog
The slang term “mog” refers to someone who outclasses the rest. Commonly used — though not always — in regard to a person’s physical appearance, it’s been around since 2016, derived from the abbreviation “AMOG,” meaning “Alpha Male of Group.” It’s often meant in a playful manner and can adapt to multiple parts of speech or pair with other appearance-based words. For instance, someone who’s taller than another person may be said to be heightmogging, while someone with long and luscious hair could be called a hairmogger.
Unc
“Unc” originated within the AAVE dialect as a shortened form of the word “uncle.” It’s used to suggest that something is outdated or uncool (a coincidence given that “unc” and “uncool” share the first three letters). The slang first gained popularity around 2021 and can be used in several ways. For example, you may call an older gentleman an unc for doing something outdated, or you may refer to yourself as having reached unc status as you age and start to feel old.
Advertisement
Maxxing
The slangy suffix “-maxxing” applies when you’re going above and beyond to achieve your desired goal. It’s most commonly used as part of the term “looksmaxxing,” which refers to people who aim to enhance their appearance through good skin care and cosmetic surgery. But it can be used in a variety of other ways, too — someone who’s sleepmaxxing might be trying to get more rest, while a person who’s moneymaxxing is attempting to increase their wealth. And someone who’s nothingmaxxing can be found lying on the sofa doing nothing.
41
You’ve probably heard kids use the expression “67” (pronounced “six-seven”), but there’s a new version: “41” (sometimes said as “forty-one” and sometimes as “four-one). This bit of nonsensical slang is derived from a song titled “41 Song” by the rapper Blizzi Boi. The term gained popularity in late 2025 and is devoid of any deeper meaning.
Blep
Have you ever seen a cute puppy sleeping with its tongue partially sticking out? Or a cat making a goofy face where its tongue juts out ever so slightly? If so, you’ve seen animals that blep — slang for when creatures stick their tongues halfway out. This term is typically used affectionately and positively. It’s likely based on the sound humans make when sticking their tongues out to imitate a cute animal.
Fanum Tax
Most people over 30 probably aren’t familiar with the internet gaming streamer Fanum, but Gen Alpha is. For the uninitiated, during his videos, Fanum often playfully grabs a bite of food off someone’s plate and calls it a tax. This gave rise to the slang term “Fanum tax,” which has been embraced beyond his gaming streams. It refers to stealing someone else’s food or feeling entitled to a portion of it.
Advertisement
Glaze
The term “glaze” began to gain steam on social media in the early 2020s. It’s based on a familiar definition of “glaze,” which refers to applying a glossy coating, such as with pottery or icing donuts. But to Gen Alpha, this slang means “to shower someone or something with excessive praise,” often to the point that it annoys the person who’s being praised. “Glaze” is often said in a disapproving tone — for example, “Stop glazing me; you won’t get a better grade.” — implying the praise is unwarranted.
Enter your email to receive daily lessons that dive into what makes English so fascinating. Each email is packed with odd rules, etymologies, and the tools you need to be a better communicator.
Sorry, your email address is not valid. Please try again.
Sorry, your email address is not valid. Please try again.