Meet the 25-year-old behind Chimbridge, the viral Singlish dictionary with new terms like ‘lao hong biscuit’

It was a weekend in November when Daniel Goh decided it was time to unveil his creation to the world.
For the past six months, the 25-year-old had poured himself into what he calls the most comprehensive Singlish Dictionary ever attempted. Building on earlier works like the Coxford Singlish Dictionary, the engineering professional wanted to fill the gaps by including etymologies and previously undocumented terms.
The result is Chimbridge, a collection of 2,500 entries he painstakingly researched, consolidated, and uploaded onto a website he created, despite having no prior experience in web design. (And if you’re wondering, it’s also a wordplay on Cambridge and “chim” or “cheem”, which means deep or profound.) 
On November 9, he announced Chimbridge on Reddit, unprepared for the reaction that followed.
“I didn’t even consider that the site would hit 10,000 page views, but it reached around 30,000 page views by the evening. I was quite surprised and happy,” Goh shared with CNA Lifestyle.
The Reddit thread and Goh’s inbox buzzed late into the night. Locals headed straight for the “insults” category, curious about the swear words that had fallen out of use before their time, while expats decoded Singaporean slang with newfound clarity. Many were in awe of Goh’s efforts, even more found it incredulous that such an extensive resource was completely free.
But it does make you wonder – why would anyone invest so much time into something with no paywall?
It should come as no surprise that Goh’s love for languages stretches back to his teenage years, when he began learning German and Danish for fun. Today, he can also speak conversational Spanish, Melayu, and most recently, Hokkien. 
 “My family is very jiak kentang one, he said. The expression literally means “eat potatoes” or, in Chimbridge, “Westernised”.
“But since I’m half Hokkien, and it’s a very important language in terms of cultural identity and history, I thought I should try and learn it.”
During his foray into Hokkien, Goh stumbled upon many amusing words and realised that although the dialect is often written in romanised form, it could also be documented in Chinese characters.
“That was partly why I started a list of Singlish words with Chinese etymologies, which eventually evolved into this Singlish dictionary,” he added.
The thought that Hokkien could one day disappear also motivated Goh to preserve Singlish. Having spent time abroad, he noticed how unique it is – something Singaporeans often take for granted.
More importantly, he’s passionate about challenging the perception of Singlish as an illegitimate language. This is exactly why Chimbridge takes a more academic approach compared to other Singlish dictionaries, which tend to be more lighthearted.
“In Singapore, nobody regards Singlish as a serious language, but it kind of is. Most linguists do regard it as quite a serious creole, and this (academic) treatment is afforded to most other creoles in the world,” he explained, referencing Papua New Guinea’s Tok Pisin and the Nigerian Pidgin.
“I thought creating something like this (dictionary) might help put Singlish out there the same way.”
What does it take to academic-fy Singlish? For Goh, it meant tackling the monumental task of tracing each term’s lineage – when it was first used, by whom, and in what context.
“I think no one else has gone to the depth of etymology that it shows, and I’ve tried really hard for every single term to put down the correct etymology to the rest of my research,” he said.
These aren’t things he could “just Google”. Since Singlish terms are frowned upon in formal writing, its origins rarely appear in newspapers or official reports. And when they do, Goh noted, they’re often “watered down to be publishable.”
To work around this, Goh scoured a wonderfully chaotic mix of sources. From Ris Low’s iconic “boomz” moment on RazorTV in 2009 to “lao hong biscuit” emerging in a courtroom trial just last month, he left no stone unturned.
While these origins are widely known, others, like “stun”, remain a mystery.
“It’s just one of those colloquial words that somehow popped up in NS in the past 50 years. In my dictionary, I wrote that it possibly came from ‘steng’, which is Malay for sharing or taking without permission. But maybe that was also a bit of a stretch,” he shared.
Occasionally, his deep dives would uncover surprising stories. For instance, most people know “sot” means crazy, but few realise it’s short for “short circuit.” Even fewer know it also has two other meanings derived from the English words “sod” and “besotted.”
Discoveries like these kept Goh motivated through what he calls a slow but rewarding journey. For the last six months, he had spent about three hours a day on Chimbridge, adding around 100 new terms each week.
“Probably half the entries were written when I was sitting in the MRT, or when I had nothing to do and would otherwise be scrolling my phone. It’s something that I found interesting, so it wasn’t really that much of a slog as it could’ve been,” he quipped.
The overwhelmingly positive response to Chimbridge took Goh by surprise, but what amazed him most was how many of the users were from his generation or younger.
“It was really encouraging that the dictionary had such an impact on them. Hopefully, it renews their interest in Singlish and in preserving the language,” he said.
Some were so inspired that they offered to contribute. One user, who proclaims to be something of an International Phonetic Alphabet (IPA) expert, noticed it was missing in Chimbridge and volunteered to help.
“He’s quite ambitious about it because it’s something he’s passionate about. For example, he wanted to represent how different communities in Singlish would pronounce differently,” he said.
“It was really encouraging that there were people who are so interested in academic Singlish. You don’t often meet them on the streets or in your friend circles.”
The project has also connected Goh with like-minded individuals, including Dr Gwee Li Sui, the author of Spiaking Singlish: A Companion to How Singaporeans Communicate, which retails for $25.45 on Kinokuniya’s website.
But does Goh plan to profit from Chimbridge? Not really. Apart from a Patreon page where supporters can buy him a teh o peng to help keep the dictionary going, he’s never considered making money from it.
“Some people suggested selling it, but I didn’t want it to have an agenda,” Goh explained, noting that monetising the project might mean removing content from the “insults” section, which has over 200 colourful entries.
“If that were to happen, it would be very inauthentic. And these words are just part and parcel of Singlish, right? You can’t pick and choose what you want in the language. You just have to accept everything it comes with.”