First, an apology. Because this piece is about Brexit, which haunts all of our days like a hangover that simply will not shift. A hangover after, say, a full-bodied Malbec or an earthy Pilsner. As the EU agrees Theresa May’s 585-page Brexit plan, and with the UK parliamentary vote to take place on 11 December ensuring yet more furious conjecture and debate, let us go over the ridiculous words and terms that have become part of the national lexicon, and which make us collectively stuff our fists into our mouths to scream silently on a daily basis. Enjoy!

Backstop

I’d hardly heard the word backstop since my days of playing rounders at school, yet I’ve heard it every single day for the past month, and – this is where the real will to live is lost – even the phrase “the backstop to the backstop”. Quite frankly I am jealous of everyone who managed to catch syphilis in the 18th century and was put out of their misery.

This is all to do with the Irish border, and the Tories’ initial reluctance to accept the Good Friday agreement was actually quite good (or in the case of the Northern Ireland secretary, Karen Bradley, not understanding it all. A primer is here). The backstop will come into play only if a trade deal is not secured within the transition period, which, going on previous form, it will not be. If anyone had the slightest optimism that the entire shambles would be wrapped up before deadline, the backstop might be less of a contentious issue.

Unicorns

When I worked on the Guardian tech desk, I was used to hearing extremely successful startups (valued at more than $1 billion) described as unicorns. Tech companies are also tied up with Brexit, owing to the fact that investment will almost certainly take a hit post-withdrawal. But Labour brought us back to the actual idea of the fantasy animal when the head of the thinktank Open Europe said of Labour’s Brexit stance (if you can call it that): “Because it’s opposition politics, they can promise unicorns without worrying about having to deliver them.” Amazon Prime will probably find a way soon, though.The former UK ambassador to the EU, Sir Ivan Rogers, has also described UK ambitions for “a fantasy island unicorn model”.

Facebook Twitter Pinterest An exclusive picture of Labour’s Brexit policy. Photograph: Rob Boudon/PTES

‘Max fac’



Sounds like a voluminous mascara, but is in fact shorthand for “maximum facilitation”, the Tories’ proposed hi-tech solution on checks across the Irish border (see above). This despite the fact the Tories have an awful record on tech, and probably open separate browser windows instead of just using tabs.

Cake

In further proof that Brexit has managed to ruin absolutely everything, even the pure and sacred pleasure of cake has not escaped unscathed (I am stockpiling it, obviously). I have lost count of the number of politicians, both from the UK and the remaining EU 27, who have used the phrase “having our [or their] cake and eating it”, tying cake in the imagination to Brexit and therefore tainting it for ever.

Whistling

Also ruined: whistling. In fairness, whistling was already quite annoying, but is now even more so, given that “go whistle” has been adopted by leading Tory Brexiters as an oh-so-edgy riposte to the EU. Oooh, bet they’re so scared. It was Philip Hollobone who asked Boris Johnson in parliament (in regards to the divorce settlement) whether he would “make it clear to the EU that if they want a penny piece more then they can go whistle?”

Johnson, in his capacity as then foreign secretary (still lol) replied that “I think ‘to go whistle’ is an entirely appropriate expression.” Fellow Tory MP Peter Bone later stuck his neck out further to say that the EU can “absolutely go whistle”. Fighting talk.

Magical thinking



We’re not talking about Harry Potter’s study periods, but about another fair accusation from the EU on the UK government’s Brexit negotiations position. Once again, the Irish border was the culprit (it’s almost as if nobody thought about this massive issue beforehand), and Michel Barnier, the EU’s chief negotiator, had absolutely had it, saying: “What we see in the UK paper is a lot of magical thinking about how an invisible border would work in the future.”

Now we await some more awful neologisms in the lead up to the Commons vote. It’s almost enough to make one want to speak in a different language. A European one, perhaps.

• Hannah Jane Parkinson is a Guardian columnist