Tag Archives: New Words

Corn: It’s a movement. (But not like you think.)

25 Jul

I have a new-found respect for kindergartner’s art skills. Corn is not easy to work with.

So in the wake of my run-in at the farmer’s market, I decided to make corn a dirty word.

This should trouble you on many levels. Let me enumerate count them:

  1. I had a run-in at a farmer’s market. How is this even possible? 
  2. I already swear a lot. Do I need another word in my arsenal? Does a bear eat corn? Probably, if it is hungry enough. 
  3. Corn is a ridiculous word. Is it actually swear-worthy? For the love of corn, yes. 
  4. Really? I was annoyed enough that I need to seek revenge by starting a corn movement? Frankly, yes. 

You know the expression, “Mess with the bull and you’ll get the horn?” Well, my new motto is: Mess with me and you’ll get the corn.

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Mother Nature: *some* kind of magic.

12 Jul

This winter, as temperatures danced around below freezing, I kept proclaiming it was “colder than a witch’s titty!”

(Well, actually, I said “witch’s tit” and Alan corrected me, but you get the gist. In fact, I think this shows I can take feedback constructively, because I’ve used his wording. I’d like some gold stars for that. Alan, I’m looking at you. Gold stars. Pronto.)

Anyway, the mercury is now on the other end of the thermometer, pushing past 100 and trailing humidity to boot. You can’t even cross your legs in the shade without sweat pooling around your ankles in DC. Everyone I pass on the sidewalk looks like they’d hand over their first-born child if you could provide them with an air-conditioned gerbil ball to transport them to their destination.

(Note to self: patent air conditioned, human-sized gerbil ball tomorrow.)

I try to save energy by turning off my AC when I’m not home. As a result, there’s an uncomfortable lag when I arrive home every day, hot from my 1.5 mile walk, and my thermostat is registering 80.

(Side note: I would like to feel all cocky and Environmentally Correct about keeping my thermostat at 77, but I read that in Japan, businesses are keeping their office buildings cooled only to 82 to save energy this summer. Now go look at your thermostat — can you spare a degree?)

Anyway… last night, while waiting for the temperature to drop, I came up with a phrase that I believe perfectly captures how hot it is.

Out of curiosity, I did a few google searches to see if anyone else had coined it yet, and it seems to be an original. But I did find this article, which offers up some suggestions for capturing exactly how hot it is. Before I reveal my (soon to be catching) phrase, I’d like to highlight some of the more interesting suggestions from their list.

Here goes:

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I’ve got your TPS report right here.

18 Feb

At work a few weeks back, we were discussing creating a document where we store data that multiple people needed to access for responding to RFPs. My colleague – who sometimes mixes up words – ran with the idea, suggesting we create a central suppository.

I almost fell off my chair at the time, but in retrospect, I think there’s something clever about it. At least it would be more polite to direct someone to a “central suppository” instead of telling them directly to shove it up their ass.

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I just learned a new word.

3 Feb

I wish I hadn’t.

Here’s the word I wish I could scrub from my vocabulary: VAJAZZLING.

If you don’t know what it is, think, “Beadazzler meets bikini area.” Um, yeah.

Seriously? I’m pretty sure our pioneer ancestors would have neutered themselves, had they known their descendants would actually spend time and mental energy on such a thing.

Although, who knows? Maybe pioneer women stuck corn kernels to their nether regions for a little bedtime bling.

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Vocabulary that sizzles. Fo’ shizzle.

26 Dec

To pass time on Christmas day, we started a three-generation game of Tripoli at my parents’ house. (Tripoli is a card game with three stages that includes Michigan Rummy, poker and money cards.)

Near the end of the game, my attention waned, so I got a bit squirrelly. When playing the poker stage, I announced that my hand contained a “fizzle hizzle” instead of saying “full house.”

When it was time to count off, I led with a “tizzle” (two), followed by a “thrizzle” and so on.

My 12 year old nephew got a kick out of my counting style, so when it was his turn to lay down a Jack, he announced it with “JIZZLE!”

And immediately made a swallowed noise of embarrassment that was combination laugh/cough/gasp that let us know he realized he had just said a word that might be a synonym for “ejaculation” at his grandparents’ dining table. On Christmas Day.

Because nothing says “Merry Christmas, Grandma!” like announcing that your pre-teen slang vocabulary now includes fornication. (Fortunately, I’m pretty sure “jiz” is not a word my parents know, because when I later tried to explain the humor to them, they gave me a blank look. Though actually, that might have been because I didn’t do the SNL skit justice when I explained it.)

Next year, by way of a sequel, we’ll have to take home a bag of chestnuts and see what that does for the conversation.

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