Tuesday, December 28, 2010

on the road

i am somewhere near tucson.
or maybe not. maybe tucson was three hours ago.
sand. trailers.
did you know that the seats in u-haul trucks do not recline?
i didn't.
but how could they recline?
hindsight is 20/20.
we left dallas at 7:00 AM yesterday.
"leaving the lone star state!" said a road sign
14 hours later.
four more hours.
i think i'll eat another peanut butter m&m.
i just saw a dead coyote.

Friday, December 17, 2010

thanks for saving our world

Yesterday, I found a mystery package that weighed eleventy-thousand pounds and had no return address at our doorstep. Oh cool, I thought, someone has sent us a 12-pack of bowling balls. We started to open it and Mike threw out the obligatory, "I hope it's not a bomb." He says that literally every time one of us receives a package.

Luckily instead of a bomb we discovered a 10-12 year supply of toothbrushes, toothpaste, gum, Post-It notes, coffee, Chef Boyardee Ravioli which I'd forgotten is actually delicious, Bumble Bee tuna salad, shampoo, cough drops, Power Bars, Trivial Pursuit, a paperback called "Virgin Lies" (tagline: The first lie is the hardest one to tell), and best of all, these:

can you play football?

Mike points out that he's actually in the Navy. Gosh Kacela.

Tyjuwuan wins the PC award!

what do you eat?

do you use vehicles to patrol?

i think you have been doing a good job serving our country.

this one is my favorite.

i wrote one too.

Tuesday, December 14, 2010

bad words

Other words, however, are not fun to say. They can inspire fear and disgust and other unpleasantries.


I'll go out on a limb and say that if you use the word bulbous it will probably trigger both an abrupt ending to your conversation and maybe something even uglier.

in a sentence:
"Sue, you have to see this bulbous blister on my..." (Sue throws up before friend finishes sentence.)


There are equally effective synonyms of this word that don't begin with "crotch." Use them.

in a sentence:
"From now on, I'm going to say 'cranky' instead of 'crotchety' thus omitting the imagery connected with 'crotchety.'"

abhor/abhorrent/et al.

Similar to concept above. Nobody can say "whore" without laughing.

in a sentence:
"I abhor that he said whore in front of the children."


When was the last time you or someone you know had to say "girdle" for any reason?

"Her girdle was riding up in such a fashion that it grazed her collarbone."
"Grandmother, may I borrow your polyester girdle?"
"Wow, this girdle hugs my curves in all the right places!"

Been a while, huh?





Bad groups of words:

It is what it is.
I guess it also depends on what the meaning of the word "is" is.

I'm just calling a spade a spade.
And I'm just calling a donut a donut.

It's water under the bridge.
Translated: "I'm still bitter, hostile, and using trite expressions."

Did I leave anything out?

good words

Some words are just fun to say. Some are so fun to say that I have to repeat them aloud when I come across them even if I'm in a silent waiting room at the doctor's office. Saying delicious words amuses me.


Neanderthal is fun to say because Neanderthals are hilarious. Without Neanderthals we wouldn't be here and neither would the 1992 Pauly Shore classic Encino Man. I've never warmed up to pronouncing the hard 't' as in turtle but if  you choose to say it that way people will assume you are highly intelligent. This is because intelligent people take pride in pronouncing words differently than you do.

in a sentence:
"Ross Gellar hearts Neanderthals because he is a paleontologist."


Magnanimous is fun to say because
it reminds me of powerful things like magma and magna cum laude and the Magna Carta.
it also sounds like magnesium.
which makes your bones stronger.
{i take a supplement.}

in a sentence:
"How magnanimous is your 5-page Christmas letter summarizing your work promotion/kidney stones/family trip to Branson/recent divorce!"


Instead of saying something is "good" or "acceptable" or even "minimally adequate," why not add a punch to the conversation with "glorious?" Also, women named Gloria are always nice.

in a sentence(s):
"The motivational speaker at this tradeshow is glorious."
"My invasive dental procedure was glorious, thanks for asking."
"Sure is glorious that the tornado only destroyed a dozen homes."


To say the word "antagonize" is to experience a flood of serotonin. Why? Because it contains the word "tag." tag = price tags = shopping.

in a sentence:
"I find shark attacks very antagonizing."

Monday, December 13, 2010

I'm proud to impart on you another priceless life lesson.

Tonight I address you illegally from the "multipurpose room" of my residential building. I say illegally because I'm pretty sure it's supposed to be locked everyday at 9 p.m. but tonight it wasn't. This room takes up approximately a gaggle square feet and houses a ginormous flat-screen T.V., a pool table, a few plush couches and some leather papisan chairs that are way larger than my king-sized bed.

The multipurpose room is, 97 percent of the time, populated by three-to-five fellow concentrating types also taking advantage of the papisan chairs and chillaxed atmosphere. However at any given time this room features one absolute constant and it is this:

Be it dawn, dusk or noon on a Tuesday, a determined posse of pool gamers will emerge with an insane clown pool posse which is almost but not quite as extreme as the Insane Clown Posse, and most importantly: They will play a very raucous game of pool.
Do you know how loud the game of pool is? I didn't. It's not unlike a tornado alarm combined with the sensation of Satan driving a screwdriver through your temple.

Never before had I sat just a few feet behind a pool table in a huge and echoing though previously silent room as the piercing sound of death raped my cerebellum.

Pool sharks, as it turns out, mean serious ess-aitche-eye-tee. It doesn't matter if it's Monday at 8:00 A.M. and you and everyone else are visibly swigging so much caffeine that you needed a harness and a padded wall several hours ago right now, because pool sharks, they are legit.

Pool sharks need to play pool, like in the biological sense. They will play wherever and whenever life allows it. Your surroundings may have been silenter than Helen Keller before Anne Sullivan and then boom! A pool posse emerges. It is mostly impossible to maintain the air of an oblivious person tending to his or her personal laptop matters alongside a pool posse -- the sooner you realize this, the better.

Immediately after the advent of this pool game you should begin to devise an exit strategy. Pulling off the exit is, of course, a larger feat than it sounds. Your exit path will bisect the pool posse's playing area, there is no way around it.  Keep in mind that your facial expressions have historically betrayed every annoyed emotion you've thought you were keeping inside.

You see, everyone in the room will know why you are leaving. A more assertive type might simply ask the pool posse to tone it down, but not you. You make your statement with your abrupt exit. That said, the wisest move in this situation is to become invisible.

If becoming invisible is not in the cards today, think about your favorite scenes from Step Brothers. This will ward off the anger threatening to overtake you.You didn't really need to study/return e-mails/finish grad school applications/pay bills today anyway. Once you've left, soak in the the soothing silence or at least the absence of  wooden ballsmacking. Ahhhh...

See? Everyone wins.

Friday, December 3, 2010

taylor miffed

In our society, not worshiping Taylor is a taboo akin to treason, cannibalism and the KKK.

"la la la, you dumped me and i wrote a song about it and the rain is to emphasize that you're a bastard, laaaa!"

"Imma let you finish..."

That's why I commend you, author of this Deadspin article, with a hug and a deep desire to become your friend, both on the facebook and in real life where I will bring you a venti Gingerbread Latte spiked with an extra shot of awesome.  

My admiration is fueled by two parts "I thought I would get stoned if I admitted this" to infinity parts these metaphors:

"Can I unsubscribe to Taylor Swift?"

"FACT: Eighty-five percent of all advertisements and magazine covers are now mandated by law to feature Taylor Swift, or at least some portion of her hair crimping."
"Taylor Swift makes training bra music."

"Her [bleep] is one step removed from a Fisher Price Little People CD."

"Every record she sells should come with a complimentary pack of Spree."

"Every adult music critic on Earth fawns over this girl and protects her like she's some kind of forest pixie. (Editor's note: forest pixie! ahahahhahaha.) SHE'S SO MATURE FOR AGE! SHE HANDLED THAT KANYE SITUATION SO WELL! SHE'S SO ARTICULATE! No, seriously. Someone wrote that." 

"Swift's thoughtful honesty and surprisingly articulate take on life should be commended.' HOORAY! SHE'S ALMOST 21 AND HAS THE ABILITY TO SPEAK!"

"It's the soundtrack to a trip to Spencer Gifts."

Crimping irons? Training bra music? Spencer Gifts? I love your metaphors so much I want to platonically marry them. Thank you for the permission slip to come out as a Taylor non-enthusiast/vehement-hater-in-your-case; it's the song of a thousand angels.

And it goes like:

O Taylor thy Swift,
Of thou Jonas Brother thy shall lament
Thine is leggy.
[Harp solo]
Though I walk through thine kingdom of a mountain of 'tweens
I shall fear no evil
For thou shall continue with thine manufactured awkwardness
Forever and ever, amen.
Projectile music notes.