Alcoholic drinks; cocktails. In the U.S., both the singular and plural forms have traditionally been used by themselves (I need a drink; She had three drinks before dinner), whereas in Britain, drinks is commonly paired with another word: drinks party, drinks menu, drinks tray, interval drinks (which you imbibe at the theatre between the first and second acts).

At the height of summer, nothing makes a splash like a drinks party at your weekend house.(New York Times, July 16, 2004)/The other day, at loose ends in Midtown at the tenebrous end of happy hour, I larked into an averagely bad, decently fun Tex-Mex restaurant in the Theater District. The barman presented the drinks menu. The drinks menu presented an assault, its plastic cover a window onto a plane of existence where 29 distinct margarita flavors live, or at least refuse to die. (Troy Patterson, Slate, May 4, 2011. Note the use of the moderately British  barman [instead of bartender] and larked, for which the OED cites H. O’Reilly’s 1889 5o Years on Trail:  “I was always larking about and playing pranks on my schoolfellows.”)

Verb, transitive or intransitive. The OED’s definition:

To bring (something) up to its full capacity; to fill to the top (a partly full container, spec. (the cells of) a motor vehicle’s battery). Used esp. with reference to a drinker’s glass, freq. with the person as object.

The first citation is from a 1937 article in The Times: “In order to help the owner-driver to look after his battery, a combined acid-level indicator, vent plug and filler cup has been introduced, thus enabling the cells to be ‘topped up’ accurately and visibly, without removing the vent plugs.”

Top up is subtly different from the similar fill or fill up, indicating the the real or metaphorical receptacle is not (or not yet) empty. Replenish would probably be the closest equivalent, a word that does not trip off the tongue. Its widest use in the U.K. came from pay-as-you-go mobile phone companies, such as Virgin, who, interestingly, slightly changed the meaning. That is, there is no such thing as being “full” of minutes; topping up your mobile means simply adding more money to your account.

Chris topped up the generator with gas, spilling it on the hot metal. Then he urinated on some paint cans in the alley and locked the door. (Dan Baum, The New Yorker, September 19, 2005)/ I’m sure that the Republicans will claim savings — but those savings will come entirely from limiting the vouchers to below the rate of rise in health care costs; in effect, they will come from denying medical care to those who can’t afford to top up their premiums.(Paul Krugman, New York Times, April 4, 2011)

Imperative verb phrase. According to the OED, “said (often parenthetically) to create an interval of suspense before imparting something remarkable or amusing, in order to heighten its effect. Also ironically.” Often doubled, as in an example cited by the OED from R. Laidlaw’s 1979 book Lion is Rampant:  “The real attack will come from, wait for it, wait for it—anither direction a’thegither.”

It has been popularized recently by Barney, the character played by Neil Patrick Harris (left) on the American sitcom “How I Met Your Mother,” one of whose verbal ticks is to infix wait for it in the middle of words. For example: “Our friend Robin used to do porn—wait for it—ography!”

When Karl Baedeker (or, more likely, one of his minions) passed this way [Phoenix, Arizona] in 1904, he found ”a well-built, modern city” of . . . wait for it . . . exactly 5,554 inhabitants. (R.W. Apple, New York Times, February 19, 1999)/Judging by my inbox, a large proportion of angry white men also believe that the burst housing bubble and financial meltdown of 2007-8 were caused by — wait for it — President Jimmy Carter. (Salon.com, April 29, 2011)

In the future; “going forward.” One of several cases where the British delete the article favored by Americans, the most famous other one being in hospital.  Also, the football teams Blackburn Rovers and (strangest of all, to American ears) Rangers.

Wes Davis alerted me to this passage from Charles Portis’s 1979 novel, The Dog of the South. Wes writes:

An American named Jack is helping some British soldiers load sandbags during a hurricane in Belize. When one of the Brit trucks gets stuck in the mud, Jack takes the wheel, claiming to know a special way to get a truck moving again. It doesn’t work. Here’s what comes next:

Jack said the gear ratios were too widely spaced in that truck. The young British officer, none too sure of himself before, pulled Jack bodily from the car and told him to stay away from his vehicles “in future”–rather than “in the future.”

But if the President now admitted a knowing falsehood, that admission would probably be admissible in evidence against him if in future he is prosecuted for perjury.(Anthony Lewis, New York Times, December 15, 1998)/If [Mickey] Hart should ever attempt to work with dancers again in future, he should consider consulting with [Jay] Cloidt. (The Bay Citizen, April 18, 2011)

In the UK, one disposes of unwanted stuff in the rubbish bin or merely the bin. The venerable U.S. equivalents are garbage can and trash can. In the April 18, 2011, edition of (yes) the New Yorker, one finds this in (American) Evan Osnos’s article about Chinese tourists in Europe:

He was a sanitation specialist by training, and he couldn’t help but notice Milan’s abundant graffiti and overstuffed trash bins.

Thanks to @fritinancy on Twitter:

In British football, and Britain in general (I infer this from the novel/film Nil By Mouth), nil is the equivalent of the Yank’s nothing. Referring to the local soccer team, the Union, Mike Jensen writes in today’s Philadelphia Inquirer:

Please don’t refer to the score of a Union game as “one-nil” or “a nil-nil draw.” England may have invented soccer, but it hasn’t won the World Cup in 4 1/2 decades and its national team coach is Italian. The rest of the world has moved on. “One-zip” is just fine, or if announcers want to go with soccer’s actual international language, try “uno-cero” or “cero-cero,” since Spain is now ground zero for the real innovation in the sport.

David Friedman will have to clarify this point, but my impression is that the most commonly heard form is this one (taken  from the website of Central Michigan University Chippewas): “Despite a nil-nil draw, Stafford believes his team continued to improve.”

Is it possible that nil and other British football terms will migrate to American sport? Will supporters gathering to cheer their side as they battle on the pitch? At the end of the day, what will be will be.

You have spoken. Earlier this week, I asked for nominees for the next new NOOB, and you chose (narrowly) twee. So twee ’tis.

As for definition, I can do no better than the most popular entry at  urbandictionary.com:

Something that is sweet, almost to the point of being sickeningly so. As a derogatory descriptive, it means something that is affectedly dainty or quaint, or is way too sentimental. In American English it often refers to a type of simple sweet pop music, but in British English it is used much more widely for things that are nauseatingly cute or precious. It comes from the way the word sweet sounds when said in baby talk.

“Belle and Sebastian are the Beatles of twee.”

Americans may find [choreographer Ronald] Hynd all too twee (look that one up in your Anglo-American dictionary). (Anna Kisselgoff, New York Times, April 18, 1982)/[Mari Eastman’s] paintings are pretty and a bit twee, and I never found them very interesting, until now. Culture Monster [Los Angeles Times blog], April 21. 2011)