Oh yes. Top of the Pops was gormless. UNTIL Blondie, when it suddenly and mysteriously transformed by alchemy to become family viewing, stepfather happily wiggling his toes in his socks as he hummed along with Heart of Glass. It gave me a fit of the giggles one evening and I was sent to my room for laughing at his singing, but it wasn't that I was laughing at, lol.
Controversially, I've seen reference to another explanation for this word. Which is that 'gorm' has the same route (indeed, the same sound) as "worm", which is a word that at one time was equally applied to things we still call worms, and those we call snakes (hence the native British Slow Worm). Snakes are traditionally viewed as wise (though not necessarily in a good way..), cunning etc and hence to be gormless = wormless, means you don't have much native cunning.
Meanwhile, in conversation yesterday my wife accidentally invented a new word; "obnoxionable" - presumably this is all the worst bits of obnoxious and objectionable. Luckily, one of the things I'm working on right now is a book set in the year 2700, and on the basis that language will have changed a bit by then, I reckon I have licence to use it.
I discovered the word 'gormless' in a description of Jeeves and Wooster -- which I discovered this week and like very much. The opening scene is sort of brilliant, with Hugh Laurie walking around with slack mouth and unfocused eyes.
I once accidentally visited an alpaca stud farm. Long story. Anyway, drove into the yard and all these alpacas came running out of the barn to see what was happening. Big ones, little ones, all colours, and a pack of farm dogs ran out with them too, all together. Such a funny sight!
We lived at the bottom of a railway embankment when I was small, which was inhabited by slow worms and lizards. If you tried to catch them they would sometimes detach their tails as a decoy, while they escaped. Them were days ....
I once lived in a house in Saltash, Cornwall, which had soggy ground at the bottom of the garden, the remains of a stream that had been largely buried by landscaping work when the estate was built. It was a paradise for puffball mushrooms and slowworms. My cat sometimes caught these legless lizards, causing them to detach the end of their tails, which distracted her enough that they could make their escape. I'll never forget coming home to find a still twitching tail end on the hallway carpet! I searched the house for the rest of the slowworm, but it must have slithered away.