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Crash "Long-Winded Wrong Answer" Landon's Journal

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Jun 13, 2010 - 09:49 PM
You Know, Guys...
The meet was fun and all, but I'm not particularly enjoying these post-meet entries in which everyone accuses me of stealing something.

I mistakenly wound up with Puck's mask and didn't immediately return it. I didn't know it had such personal value, so I didn't put a rush on it. I'm genuinely sorry for that. I don't know what's been said about this while I wasn't around to hear but just know I immediately handed it over when asked of its whereabouts and tried my best to explain and apologize to Puck and Thud.

So everyone making fun of me over something which I truly feel bad about, it's funny to you but not to me.

Just sayin'.

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[public entry #90]

Jun 1, 2010 - 10:22 PM
Gifts. They Are Mandatory.

I expect material offerings of acceptable quality and retail value.

I got my lungs torn out, got ice-burned by a lying bitch (redundant?) so she could hook up with a rent-a-cop/amateur cage fighter instead, and got kicked out of my home, all to make it to this thing.

I deserve something nice.

Shiny wrappings are preferred.

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[public entry #89]

May 26, 2010 - 12:31 AM
I Am Now A Hobo

I was kicked out of my house today. Tensions had been mounting for a long while; I didn't feel welcome, and my family felt I'd been there too long. After tiring of feeling like an intruder in my own home for so long, a small argument over a bothersome, automated caller escalated into a critique on everything that's wrong with me, and though I tried to remain calm, I was put on the defensive. I said the wrong thing and was shown the door.

Most of my life is now in my car. I'm allowed to come back for the big stuff in time, but otherwise, I'm to keep my distance. I'm staying at my brother's for a couple days but it's not ideal since he doesn't really have the means to support a guest. I have a couple options, and I'm pretty sure my one friend will be glad to help me when I'm down. He lives a county away, however, and that, combined with having no actual residence, means I will probably have to quit my job earlier than planned.

I had plans to move to Pittsburgh in July anyhow to attend school. This isn't quite the monkey wrench it seems. It just forces me to expedite the matter. It also might grease some wheels, since my situation could be considered a medical emergency due to my post-transplant status. At the very least, being unemployed and homeless would make me eligible for things like Medicaid and food stamps. I dislike it but you do what you must to survive, ya know. At worst, I'll go to Pittsburgh, put myself up in a Ronald McDonald house with medical consent, and apply for a financial hardship waiver. I know such a possibility exists.

The good news is that this doesn't really interfere with my plans to attend the Meet in Maine. I just might arrive with a carload of 50% of my belongings that will need to be stowed somewhere. Fortunately, some of those things are stuff I'd planned to bring to Maine anyhow, and made certain to pack up. I'm also probably free to visit my friend in Boston for a few more days, as she's been bugging me.

I'm just not sure exactly what's going to happen now. I'll get it sorted out since I've formed enough contacts to weather things like this. It's just the in-between time that I hate. I never truly believed I'd be cast to the curb before I was ready to leave the house. I was wrong.

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May 20, 2010 - 11:31 PM
Sometimes You Find Things You Want...

And sometimes you find things you need.

I sure can't afford this now but I feel that it would be a deserving gift to myself after graduation. I've always had an affection for finely crafted watches but have never owned one. Right now, I have a pretty decent Mickey Mouse watch. It wasn't cheap and you'd almost never know its nature at a glance but at the end of the day, it still has a pair of Mickey ears for the 12 o'clock symbol.

What I so totally need is this gorgeous timepiece.

I apologize for the lack of an image but the site uses Flash. It's extremely well done Flash, however, and maybe you can appreciate the show the Movado people put on. All I know is I want that thing around my wrist in four years.

God, that thing is sexy.

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[public entry #87]

May 18, 2010 - 10:54 PM
It Occurs to Me
...that I really would love to play through Breath of Fire III again. That game was so full of fun, imagination and spritey goodness.

I'm almost afraid to search Ebay, though, for fear of the prices people will want. I cannot possibly imagine it is cheap.

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[public entry #86]

May 3, 2010 - 09:54 PM
Dubai Fountain - Baba Yetu

We all know the song, I think. But this takes it to a whole new level of grandeur.

YouTube Video

Absolutely gorgeous.

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[public entry #85]

May 2, 2010 - 01:07 AM
I Truly, Desperately Need Someone Tomorrow Night
I don't care who it is, but PLEASE someone call me. Even Deni is fine.

Everything I know has been torn from its foundation and twisted upside-down in the past twelve hours.

I am beyond numb from the shock and absolutely furious. I've never felt so thoroughly like crap in my entire life.

I have work in the morning, but after 3PM Eastern time, I'm free.

I need to talk to someone before I explode or do something I truly regret.

Please, I'm begging. I know I've been a dick lately but I'm reaching out for some help and comfort right now. I sincerely don't know what to do.

Just post in the replies if you plan to call.

My number is 716-957-6696.

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[public entry #84]

Apr 3, 2010 - 08:25 PM
Who the Fuck ARE You People Anymore?!
Seriously. You have names. You registered with them.


This is how we know who the fuck is saying what.

Seriously, as I figure out who each and every one of you are, I'm changing you back.

This bullshit has gone too far.

(As a side, requesting "Namingforce" banner.)

Response entries:
Requesting Retro Week with Name Changes by DieSeLFueLeD

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[public entry #83]

Mar 28, 2010 - 10:03 PM
As many are aware, I've been after Bonesteel's woman, Melinda, for a while now. It was only two months ago, however, that Melinda got tired of Bonesteel's lack of commitment and dumped him. Still, she has had to remain living in the same apartment with him due to not having enough money to move back east.

She and Bonesteel were together for six years and he was her first; naturally there was some distress. I tried to be considerate and give her room to heal but there came a point where I could no longer be silent. I told Melinda how I felt about her. This news came as a genuine shock, for she'd never suspected I had any feelings for her at all. I am evidently too good at concealing my emotions. I thought she'd suspected for quite a while. What I thought were purposeful flirtations and innuendos were merely friendly jokes.

But she wasn't upset at all. Melinda said she couldn't make any commitments because it wasn't absolutely certain that she was done with Bonesteel. She promised to give him until May to redeem himself. I do not believe he is capable, but who knows? She admitted that it's very possible she could be attracted to me once her head is cleared from this mess. She wants time to decide what her path will be.

Unfortunately, there is another man, one named Mike. Mike is a Libertarian rent-a-cop, from Ohio, whose hobby is cage fighting. He also thinks he's some smooth operator. But he's known Melinda for as long as I have, and recently also declared his feelings for her. The caveat is that Mike and Melinda have never met in person; they met online. She does want to meet him, and there are plans for this to happen in May when she visits her friend in Pennsylvania.

Mike has been very dogged in his pursuit of Melinda, showering her with attention and making strong, suggestive remarks about marriage and children. Melinda tells me it's annoying at times, and borderline obsessive, but I sense that she truly doesn't mind the attention and flattery.

Mike has been pestering me over AIM for two weeks, attempting to "befriend" me, since we're both large parts of Melinda's life. I've been extremely reluctant to chat since he is, essentially, my foe here. I finally relented this afternoon when he raised the valid poiint that it's rather slimy of me to speak ill of him behind his back but cannot say anything to him directly.

Mike told me, in a nutshell, that I stood no chance with Melinda. He claims she has already confessed her love for him and has dreamed about him on one occasion. I was informed of this dream by Melinda, and it was not romantic or sexual in context at all, but he sure would like me to draw that conclusion. He then said she sees me more as a brother and that I should spare myself the heartbreak and look elsewhere. Mike then sugar-coated it with some flattery about my intellect and strength of character, and offered to coach me in how to more effectively pick up women. How nice of him.

It's basically an attempt at "Stockholm Syndrome." By befriending me, he probably hopes that I'll grow to like him enough so as to not mind if he gets the girl, because I'll trust that Melinda has made a good choice. Fat chance. It's an obvious snow job and even Melinda agrees.

Melinda has told me she definitely does not love him. He annoys her frequently, to the point where she has to stop talking to him for a while just to cool off. She knows he has lied to her and to her best friend, Cassie. She also believes him to be rather manipulative. At the same time, she has admitted that his constant attention and expressions of love have grown on her somewhat.

I thought that it was probably better to give her the necessary room to get over Bonesteel and get the hell out of Colorado. I didn't want to smother her and just add to the confusion. However Mike did just that and was succeeding. Being mindful of her space was evidently the incorrect play, no matter how much sense it made. I've even been told this directly. Not harshly but in a suggestive way.

What have we learned? If you want something, don't wait for it to choose to come to you. Reach out and fucking take it.

I've never done the aggressive thing before, at least not with women. I get wrapped up in what they think of me. I think I appear timid. In fact I'm pretty sure of it. Hell with that. I haven't been given a "no" and that's all the encouragement I need to move things up several gears.

It'll be fascinating, and I might fall completely on my face. But I ain't rolling over for no weaselly, musclebound, ex-Mormon she's never even met in person. Hell no. Mike's attempt at steering me away has backfired. The gloves are completely off now.

I know I'm the better man. I'm not manipulative and I don't lie to her friends. I've always been good to her. It's time to make her realize this.

Sorry for the sorta-emo rant. Sometimes you just gotta vent, you know?

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Feb 25, 2010 - 04:01 AM
Accordion Hero
YouTube Video

The kid's 15. Normally, I'd be all cynical and say he's never, ever gonna get laid, but shit, once you reach that level of anything - especially if it's before you can purchase beer - pussy is probably surprisingly attainable.

This is astounding. Weird Al has done the accordion a great injustice.

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Feb 22, 2010 - 05:41 AM
Late Night Reflections

It's 5 AM and I cannot sleep. Even that I could, I am not certain I would want to.

I have been assessing myself since shortly before midnight, a sort of exercise in treading lightly through the minefield of one's soul. I have been searching for those attributes which redeem me, those that endear me to others and speak for who I am. Most importantly, those characteristics that could aid one in genuinely loving me.

I fear I've come up short.

My life has been met with much adversity. We all die but for most, that is a distant bird circling long upon the horizon. For me, that vulture has perched itself smugly upon my shoulder since the day I entered this world. It pecks at me and there are times I must lay down to replenish what it has taken. Five times I have stared directly at my own mortality and emerged the victor. Of willpower and tenacity, I am a titan. These traits have carried me far and will continue to push me along. I would not trade them for anything.

But these traits also caused me to withdraw into myself for support, support that was never received from my family. My condition was unusual and they didn't know how to handle it - so they didn't handle it at all. My many days in the hospital were spent alone, no visitations, no phone calls. Even friends kept their distance out of fear that getting too close to my illness would only lead to pain. I had nobody to rely upon but myself to get through the challenges. My family was and is not the kind to show emotion or outward concern for others, traits that have regrettably rubbed off on me. These things have given me tremendous depth of willpower but have also made me cold on the outside.

While resolve and fortitude are admirable traits, they are not lovable traits. I have difficulty expressing myself to others, especially those I care about most. And I do care, more than they would ever guess. Telling someone I'm worried or happy for them feels awkward at times. Unsolicited. Deeper emotions are practically taboo, as they only lead to worse feelings when not reciprocated or appreciated. I've only ever once told a person who wasn't my mother that I loved them, and it was during a spat of rage - an act of honest but brutal aggression designed to stun someone into silence. It backfired when she felt the same way and I was the one left speechless. We dated for several years. But it took anger to draw such feelings out of me, and I don't like that one bit. I've never told my father that I love him, and there are times when I wonder if I do.

I am often told by people that they like me for my reliability, my reason and my wisdom. The first two are fair, though not precisely charming. But wise? I am not wise. I am an idiot. If I were wise, I would know how to express myself sincerely without fear of humiliation. The fear that holds me back is nothing but foolishness. I know this, but that knowledge has surprisingly little power.

I am an intelligent person.
I am a brave person.
I am a determined person.
I am a steady person.
I am an honest person.
I am a loyal person.

But I am probably not a lovable person.

I will always continue to fight because that's my nature. But it can get quite lonely. I've proven to myself that I can hold my own ground and forge ahead. I'd like to do it for someone else now.

It's letting anyone know this that's been my downfall.

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Feb 22, 2010 - 12:33 AM
Homos of the Universe!

It's juvenile as all get-out but I confess, I cracked up pretty good. For a well-known joke, they managed to milk it for all it was worth.

YouTube Video

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Feb 19, 2010 - 03:03 AM
Would It Be Fair to Sue This Company?
There are ATMs in my store. They're not owned by any particular bank but are instead the type supplied by financiers who make a profit off each use.

Last week, I checked the balance in my checking account. The little slip of paper informed me that I had $220. This was a bit more than I thought but it was also payday, so I shrugged.

I went out and purchased $120 in groceries last Friday, and that was the last time I used any money from my account.

Several days later, I received an overdraft notice in the mail. My account was overdrawn by $360. This worked out to be $220, plus the $120 I'd spent. And a nice $20 overdraft penalty as well. I was pretty confused. I checked with the credit union and found that, indeed, the sum was accurate and that I never had the $220 available. I'd been put under by an automated deduction for my auto-loan payment, which I hadn't authorized and was given no notification for.

It turns out that since January's loan payment was late, due to mitigating circumstances beyond my control, they saw fit to auto-deduct February's payment to make sure they got their money. This is what put me into the negatives. I really don't think it should be fair to make an unauthorized payment that wipes out someone's account and then some, THEN charge an overdraft fee, but that's what they did. Apparently this auto-deduction is the new policy for members who have made late payments the previous month. It's so members don't default. No, I'll just go into bankruptcy another way now, thanks.

Anyhow, turns out what they did is fully legal. It's in their fine print. The credit union isn't who I'm mad at.

I got an account statement from the credit union and it showed that, after today's paycheck, I am still in the negatives for $77. I went back to the ATM at my store and got a balance statement. That statement claims I have $77 available. It neglects to print out a negative sign!

The same machine refuses to allow one to simply view his or her balance on the screen. Printed balance is the only option. You don't even get the option of seeing a negative on the monitor.

So, basically, the ATM company's negligence in this matter has cost me severely. Had I known the original $220 was negative, I certainly wouldn't have gone to buy groceries, incurring more debt and fines in the process.

I'm pretty pissed. And I wonder if this has happened to others. I really would like to nail this company for their flagrant disregard for important details.

But does this sound like a legitimate claim?

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Feb 17, 2010 - 06:53 AM
"Non-Denominational" or: "In Your Faith, Bitch."
I was running errands this afternoon, and while at the Target, I ran into a former coworker. She was the sign painter from our sister store but we very often collaborated in each other's presence.

Since Becky and I had not seen each other since approximately 2006, we spent some time catching up. I'm still with the store, though now pushing cold cuts instead of doing the signwork. She is now the lead graphic designer from a nearby church that calls itself "The Chapel" She is also a prominent member of the congregation and on several committees, which is presumably how she got a legitimate, paying job there.

Becky wasted no time in suggesting that I visit this church and see all the wonderful things they're doing. I had my run with religion already, and having witnessed some of the hypocrisy and double standards that seem to come prepackaged with faith, I've decided it's best for myself to go it alone. Not necessarily without spirituality, just without others telling me how to believe.

I politely explained this, saying that I don't feel comfortable with organized religion anymore. But the proselytizing didn't stop; I just hadn't had the proper exposure to a true church community! Again, no thanks.

Becky continued, trying to play the role of sympathizer by agreeing that many churches are plagued by lies, cover-ups and enormous gaps between what they practice and what they preach. But The Chapel was different! (Of course it was.) But the only way I could know this was to see for myself.

At this point, I realized that a very basic detail had been suspiciously omitted. I asked, what religion is this Chapel?

Becky's answer: "Non-denominational."


I don't know what anyone else on this earth thinks about that concept but it's quite dubious to me. What does that even mean? How can you practice what you tout to be a religious experience, yet proclaim no ties to anything smacking of faith? It would imply that they embrace people from all religious backgrounds, which is fine on the surface. But left at that, it just doesn't work. You can't have some people reciting Hail Marys as another group wanders around hoisting the Torah overhead, all the while a third group scuttles about in a corner, declaring jihads on everyone else in the room. You kind of need everybody focused upon a singular, group activity or else it's not really a church. It's more like the West Bank.

The only thing "non-denominational" truthfully implies is "No, we're not (insert religion here). Except that you cannot completely define yourself by what you're not. You have to eventually be something or else you don't exist. At the most minimalist dissection of the term, "non-denominational" is, by its own declaration as a religion, a denomination!

I fished for some further details but Becky was rather dodgy in her answers. I had a gut feeling at what I was dealing with but wanted to get her to admit to it, which proved nearly impossible. These people are evidently well-trained in avoiding questions that would lift the veil off their operation. She wouldn't tell me about the service. She instead repeatedly alluded to the strong sense of community, the excellent family services like daycare, and the numerous programs for reaching out to teens. I asked her who the head clergyman or woman was. She told me about the wonderful guest speakers they have several evenings per week, which was completely unrelated to my question.

So I came out and asked: "Are you born-again Christians?"

Her reply: "No."

"Then what are you?"


"What deity do you worship?"


"Do you worship Jesus also?"


"Then you're Christians."

"No, we're not."

"Yes. You are."

"But it's not a Christian church."

"Do you follow a version of The Bible?"


"Sorry. Christians."

"We accept everybody. Jews. Muslims. Atheists. Anyone."

"So you all can worship God and Jesus."

"Well, sorta, but we're not strictly Christians."

"Are you like the Universal Unitarians?"

"No, they're different."

"Do you worship Allah?"


"Do you hold services in Yiddish?"


"Are you permitted to eat beef?"

"Well, yeah."

"Can you drink Pepsi?"

"I guess."

"So you praise only God and sometimes Jesus."


"Then you're Christians. Jesus is a Christian concept."

"Jesus was a Jew, you know."

"Jews don't worship Jesus. Look it up."

"Why do we have to assign ourselves a specific label to be a legitimate church?"

"Because I sense what you're after here. You're Christians in practice. You follow the Bible. You sing hymns about God. And very likely, you emphasize a renewal of commitment to God and maybe Jesus also. Like an awakening, or perhaps a rebirth. But you're well aware that the term "Born Again Christianity" carries with it a negative stigma for many. You don't want to be associated with their reputation for zealotry and aggressive recruitment efforts, so you give yourself a purposefully ambiguous label. It's vague and it forces the curious to come to you for clarification, allowing for the illusion that they brought themselves into the fold instead of you leaping on them with open claws the moment they appeared. But if you strip off the veil, I'd bet your church is very much like the Born-Again Christians because you refuse to admit to any specific doings that would indicate otherwise. You admit to specific Christian benchmarks, such as following the Bible. But if you were a more specific branch of Christianity, such as Methodists or Episcopalians, you'd be very much okay in stating so. This leaves, by process of elimination, neo-Christianity. Just because you won't use the term "Born-Again" doesn't mean you're not extremely similar in method. We weren't two minutes into conversation before you insisted that I visit your church, which is classically the first step toward indoctrination. I feel like it's a deception; you do as the Born-Agains but won't own up to it. And deception isn't a tactic I particularly appreciate in an organization that's built upon the precept of morality."

After my little monologue, Becky's face grew red and half twisted. I knew I had her, though she'd never admit as much. She yelled at me, accusing me of becoming cruel and bitter, which may be slightly true when it comes to religion but does not necessarily make me wrong. Becky defended herself in the typical way that a defeated proselytizer does: by announcing that she only had my best interests in mind and that it was rude to so smugly break down her faith - incorrectly, she might add - when she was only trying to enrich my life; if anyone needed Jesus in their life, it was me.

I'd reached my limit. Becky was pleasant enough four years ago and we never, ever had a discussion of any religious or spiritual nature that lasted more than fifteen seconds. But four years is more than plenty enough time for a person to become forever entangled with any organization that programs its members. I would've been far less bothered (but still bothered) if she had tried to sell me Amway products. I mean, you can at least use Amway products ... I think.

Becky, sensing my disinterest in conversing any further, tried to get in one last comment, a mix between a barb and a self-pat on the back.

"It's sad that you're so closed minded, Al. I gave those people a chance and it completely changed my life."

"I'm sorry for your loss." I said, and walked away.

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Feb 9, 2010 - 01:53 AM

Yesterday, a coworker surprised me with a burned copy of Torchlight. No Steam download required.

So I've been messing around with it, and the comparisons to Diablo are pretty spot on. I've chosen the magic user archetype as my beginning class. I don't know if this is particularly wise but I didn't feel like blustering mindlessly through with the thug and the archer seemed like a mediocre blend of the other two.

I was enjoying the game, more or less, destroying anything that moved or could be smashed as I explored - nothing atypical. But then!

Then I found fishing holes!

The fishing game isn't particularly challenging. Perhaps it becomes more intricate as the game progresses. Perhaps there is actually a selection of bait down the road. For now, though, it's as simple as it gets, which means I can pretty much rape it for a bountiful supply of seafood. I was making good progress, hacking, descending and leveling up, until I found my first fishing hole. I messed around for a bit until I eventually came to the realization that I'd spent three hours fishing without any further advancement in the game. And I still didn't feel like moving forward.

So now the game has become a quest to find new fishing holes so I can discover new and exciting kinds of fish. I don't particularly care what my cat becomes when it eats them. I just want to be the best fishmonger I can be. It seems almost perfunctory for any game I like to contain some method in which I can acquire fish. I spent hours collecting blue whales in Breath of Fire III. Fishing made Legend of Legaia tolerable. I've fished every last water Pokemon available. I hear there is fishing in Persona 4, and this is the only reason I want the game now. I have attained the lifelong goal of being a master fisherman in Sims 3. If they somehow managed to insert, say, drift-fishing into a Gran Turismo game, you can bet I'd be sliding into every body of water I could locate.

I find it rather amusing, and practically comedic, that my enjoyment of a game jumps hundredfold if I can somehow acquire fish during play.

Gonna have to go with a Lew Zealand avatar for a while, methinks.

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Jan 31, 2010 - 08:48 PM
An Old Idea Reconsidered - GFF Mole
A few years ago, I proposed running a variant on the now defunct TV show, "The Mole." The idea was that members would compete for a progressive jackpot, while one person secretly worked against their efforts. Players would have to figure out who the traitor was or else be eliminated by their own lack of knowledge.

But life got in the way. I went through the transplant ordeal, and then my computer began having serious RAM issues. Both made working on the idea rather arduous.

I'm past that now, and I'm more or less killing time until I move this summer. So it seems like an ideal time to do this thing I've wanted to do for a few years now. I just don't know if anyone has any interest anymore.

I don't have anyone in mind to be the mole at this point, and I'm not apt to favor those who beg for the role. That decision ultimately rests in the pool of people willing to play at all. But I've been mulling over all the details in my mind for a couple weeks and things are taking substance. I have notes. Detailed ones, in some cases. Of late, I've been falling asleep at night while considering what else can be thrown at players.

It's now come to the point where I must actually design things and gather the necessary parts. This is a considerable effort and I think it's better to pause now to gauge interest before plodding onward only to find nobody cares.

So if I do this thing, go full-tilt as I intend, would anyone be willing to participate still?

(Note: Moderators can play too but will have to temporarily sacrifice their mod abilities until they're either executed or the game is over.)

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Jan 25, 2010 - 08:20 AM
Better Off Ted

Last summer, I caught two episodes of this show and found them both rather enjoyable. I'd never heard of it, so I assumed it wasn't a ratings grabber but that's never been a guaranteed method of calculating quality either. Seinfeld had a slow start and fans of Arrested Development have argued the same for several years now. Cheers was almost cancelled after its first season and we now know what a mistake that would've been.

Anyhow, now that I have a computer that works, I've caught up with the Better Off Ted series on Hulu and it's grown on me even more. I find myself wondering why more people don't speak of this show, as I find the writing to be quite sharp and the characters amusing. It feels similar to the writing of Big Bang Theory, except faster and edgier.

Better Off Ted feels, to me, like what The Office should've been. It deals with coworker dynamics but in a way that isn't strewn with awkward pauses and clumsy attempts at pathos.
There are also fewer characters to keep track of, which, in this situation, works out for the better. That's been an on-off complaint of mine with The Office; there are so many co-workers that many seem largely irrelevant, yet they all have names and are featured in many episodes. This would work fine if it were handled in the manner of The Simpsons or My Name Is Earl, where they're brought in for very specific gags, but The Office characters just "float" and I find that superfluous. Better Off Ted manages to avoid that error.

It's also worth noting that Portia de Rossi is wonderfully icy in her role as Veronica, the department boss. She pulls off calculated immorality with excellent comedic timing, and it makes the show so much funnier. It'd be worth an Emmy glance, in my opinion, were the field of supporting actress not littered with names from series that carry heavier critical weight.

The researchers, Lem and Phil, are also well acted; Malcolm Barrett and Jonathan Slavin, respectively, play off each other magnificently. Each has the nerd persona down pat.

This show may not be right for everyone, but I do believe it's reasonable to say it's still underappreciated. If you're unfamiliar, I recommend watching an episode or two online and judging for yourself. I quite like it and feel as though it deserves a chance to break out from the pack before the network gives up on it without just reason, a la Futurama, Firefly, Conan O'Brien, etc.

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Jan 20, 2010 - 01:46 AM
ITE Crash Realizes it's 2010
...and finally registers a Steam account.

I haven't downloaded anything yet. I need to wait a couple paychecks before I buy up some titles.

But this gives me some time to consider which titles are most worth my attention. Torchlight practically seems compulsory. Machinarium seems quite novel. And beyond that, I'm not really certain what's out there besides a few of the more well-known games like Fallout and Borderlands.

So I'm asking for suggestions. I'm fairly interested in something I can play with fellow GFF members, even though I freely admit that I am absolutely horrible at FPS games, mostly due to a lack of experience with them. I also get lost easily.

But I'm willing to give almost anything a go as long as it's a decent game. The ability to curse at Skills or Mo0 while playing is also an alluring feature.

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Jan 3, 2010 - 02:36 AM
Hey Guys
Status Update:

Laptop took a nosedive on Christmas Day! Merry fuck you!

Got a small loan to purchase a new one. Should arrive in time for my birthday in a couple weeks.

With no computer to distract me, I have gotten things done!

I have reduced and compartmentalized my life! All the unnecessary crap I've accumulated over the past fifteen years or so is gone. My life us now a pile of boxes in the next room. I will not be moving for a bit yet but I am prepared, and halfway mentally checked out of here already.

I have been buying adult things. For example, several sets of bath towels. Area rugs. Tupperware. This feels simultaneously alien and proper.

I have recently become a somewhat different person. I fear passivity and inaction more and consequence less. I am telling off people who deserve it and not backing away from threats of violence. I have stopped caring about people who do not care about me. I no longer take the long way around minor obstacles; I plow through them just to see what happens. I am enjoying this immensely.

I'm looking forward to 2010. They say it is of the tiger, an impetuous creature that holds no prisoners. I find this approach fascinating suddenly and am eager to leave this all behind in favor of becoming the person I should've been all along had fear, illness and lack of encouragement not held me captive for 33 years. I no longer want this place. I no longer want the people who stopped wanting me years ago.

For once, I'm in control. And in those times when I am not, I am in control of having no control at all and it's working.

So help me, there will be an adventure. The unknown is now my bosom companion.

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Dec 26, 2009 - 03:11 AM
I Thibk My Compy Is Kaput
Was watching a Youtube video when the entire thing spontaneously shut off. All attempts to power it back up have failed. It's plenty cool now so I think the power supply is toast or god knows what else. I've suspected some corrupt RAM issues for about 9 months now, so maybe it was just a matter of time. At least I can browse the internets for brief periods on my iPhone.

Gonna head to the credit union on Tuesday to request a small loan. I just paid off a $2500 loan three months ago and my auto loan is in good standing. I've held the same job for nearly a decade, so that's strong. I'm beginning school soon, so there's a case for needing a new computer.

I hope they're willing to work with me.

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Dec 25, 2009 - 04:57 PM
Christmas Loot and Happenings
It was as I pretty much expected.

BONESTEEL's girlfriend gave me a wine rack and a book on the history of wine making. BONESTEEL signed the card too, which was nice of him to take a break from his busy schedule of creating and destroying worlds.

Another friend and his wife gave me two Tom & Jerry DVD collections <3 and an awesome 3-D puzzle that becomes a big pirate ship, complete with sails, ropes and anchor. Gonna wait until I'm in my own place to assemble it but it'll be a pretty rad decoration when it's finished.

And the George Foreman grill and kitchen gadgets from Zeph, of course.

Merv shocked the hell out of me with a card and $25. Also, an inscription written entirely in kanji, as if I'll ever know what that says. But I didn't think he had the funds for Christmas, so I'm sincerely surprised.

The rest of my family showed me the backs of their hands and gave me the shaft, which is kind of a repeat present, honestly. I didn't expect anything from them, and they didn't disappoint. They sent me the same message they've been sending at Christmas for the past three years: "Get out."

I mean, they know I'm doing precisely that in August, but it's not enough, soon enough, I suppose.

But I knew this was coming. Pretty glad I didn't get them anything in return and wind up feeling like a complete sucker, like previous years. I will find something for Merv eventually, however.

No Christmas dinner today. My stepmother, who always cooks, has to work because the healthcare industry doesn't stop for Jesus. I offered to cook dinner in her place, seeing as I'm, you know, not too shabby in the kitchen. This was summarily thumbed down. I guess they ate last night, which would've been nice to know more than six hours in advance. I'd already made plans with friends for Christmas Eve.

I planned on getting up and cooking breakfast for everyone. Demonstrate that I can be the better man despite knowing I'll be snubbed when it comes time to unwrap gifts. But when I got to the kitchen, my stepmother was already there, up early to bake cookies and brownies for her coworkers. She had the stove and counters all monopolized. Not too happy with that since it means I have to find another way to use up the bacon, ground sausage, eggs, juice, fruit and muffin ingredients I purchased. Their loss, I say. I make a hell of an omelette.

Fortunately, my boss my boss overheard me saying that there probably wouldn't be any dinner here, so she invited me to her place for the evening. She and several others in my department are getting together, so at least I don't have to spend the evening alone and annoyed. She also hates wine, so she's giving me all the bottles she's accumulated as gifts over the past several years.

I look forward to next year. I'll be in a different city, surrounded by new people. I don't know what Christmas will be like but it will be a change, no matter what. Maybe I'll have some new friends to share the holiday with. Maybe some of them will stop by my dorm apartment and I can offer them some Christmas fixings. Whatever happens, it'll be on my own terms and that's something I've needed for quite a while.

Anyhow, I'm stepping out now. Merry Christmas to those of you who aren't Scrooges. And Happy Friday, Paco and LeHah.

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Dec 23, 2009 - 07:00 AM
The 10 Worst Commonly Received Christmas Gifts
This isn't a compilation of the worst gifts I, myself, have ever received. I'm not aiming to be that spiteful. Instead, this is a list of gifts that are across-the-board bad, gifts that are generally either unwanted, inconsiderate or extremely poorly thought out.

To make this list, a gift must be one that is known to be given on at least a semi-frequent basis, must possess very little practical or sentimental value, must be devoid of common sense in some fashion, or must be so thoroughly tasteless that it makes everyone in the room pause and cringe in silence as the giver awkwardly awaits nonexistent gratitude.

Fruitcake did not make this list because, really, that's just too easy.

Hygiene Products

This one ranks low because it does possess practical value. However, the disappointment factor is completely through the roof. I have heard stories of people whose aunts or uncles gave them deodorant, mouthwash or supermarket variety aftershave for Christmas. Yes, you can use these gifts but, chances are, you already have them. There is no novelty, no momentary delight in being given the not-so-subtle hint that you possess bad breath. It's an awkward gift that sends the message that the giver was picking up his or her prescription medicine and suddenly remembered that Christmas was nine hours away.

Gift Cards to Places You Never Go

You get them from your aunt, the one who lives alone and never speaks to you on any other day but Christmas. Consequently, she doesn't know anything about you, but has a vague idea of what people like you do, which is shop and eat. So you get cards to places like T.G.I. Friday's, Red Robin, Kohl's, Bath & Body Works, etc. She selected these places because they were nearby and convenient for her, but not necessarily you. The money you save at JC Penney is negated by the gas spent driving to the next county just to find the store. Worse, the card is usually worth a low amount, like $5 or $10 because she was thinking of you but her emotional attachment isn't that deep. Often, nothing in the place is priced at $10 or less, so in the long run, you still have to spend money to save money. How thoughtful!

Christmas Ornaments

Everyone loves to celebrate the yuletide, and keepsake mementos are a nice way to remember the good times. But let's face it, the joy of receiving a Christmas ornament quickly plateaus upon the realization that you won't be able to use the damned thing for another eleven and a half months. It sits in its box, under the tree, for another week - because that's what you do with newly received Christmas gifts - and is packed away, its purpose denied because your impatient ass just couldn't hold off on decorating the tree until Christmas Day.

Gifts That Imply Better Gifts That Never Actually Arrive

Lookin' at you, AA batteries and Christmas cards without any money.

Hickory Farms

Because Christmas is already a time laden with cakes, cookies, eggnog, candies and sodas, it's only logical to push your loved ones over the brink of cardiac arrest with the gift of overly salted sausage and cheeses. They arrive in decorative little boxes and people spend a couple minutes feigning interest over the mundane variety. ("Look, Harriet, provolone!") Unless the giver went absolutely apeshit and spent $109 on the deluxe "Cheeses of Polynesia" assortment, the sampler you've received has just enough sausage to satisfy three bites and a tiny wedge of smoked cheddar whose joy is diminished by having to supply the obligatory crackers yourself. It's tacky to dive right in, so inevitably the gift winds up on top of the refrigerator where one hopes it will be remembered five weeks later as the Super Bowl airs, but never is. Hickory Farms is the gift that says "I refused to put any thought into our friendship, whatsoever!"

Fruit baskets fall under this category since they come with the pretense that someone isn't getting enough citrus in their diet.

The Nonsequitur

This category encompasses all the confusing, oddball, illogical presents you've ever received from people who felt thoroughly obligated to get you something but very clearly became awash in panic. It's understandable, in a sense. They're standing there in the Wal-Mart, the music playing, the children screaming, the lights flashing, all holiday hell breaking loose in a 250 foot circumference - it's easily enough to scramble every neuron in a person's brain. They just want out of there. But first, presents! This is why you got a Toby Keith CD. The gift-giver stopped caring and grabbed whatever was nearby, hoping with a total shot in the dark attitude that maybe, just maybe, you're actually into West Coast Choppers, and even if you aren't, maybe you're chivalrous enough to pretend. It goes down the same every year: You open the gift. You smile. They smile. Everybody fucking smiles. And we never talk about that pair of ballerina pig earrings EVER AGAIN.


Nearly everybody has that friend or relative whose life went from a bleak miasma of aimless desolation to a twenty-four hour carnival of glee when they picked up a particular hobby or purpose and never let it go. Now they want every single person to share in the same tunnel vision that saved them from growing old with nothing but three dozen cats for friends. Maybe they found Jesus. Maybe they became a vegan. Perhaps the music of Tori Amos turned their life around. And now they're spreading the wealth, oblivious to the fact that the moment they spent $830 on scrapbooking supplies, you stopped coming over. Now you've got a book on the evils of the whaling industry, a six month paid subscription to World of Warcraft, a ticket to the upcoming Clay Aiken concert (guess who has the other) or a colloidal silver starter kit. Their personal agenda is their gift to you, this Christmas. This person will almost unerringly attempt to validate their own obsession by following up with you around March to see how much better your life is now that you've been introduced to the joys of needlepoint. So unless you move to a different town and change your name, you're screwed.

Gifts That Are Secretly For the Giver ... And Not So Much You

It's a classic holiday tale: Wife receives big, shiny box for Christmas. Wife eagerly opens box. Wife finds a waffle iron in box. Husband grins smugly. Husband says "Now you can make me waffles for breakfast!" Wife Googles divorce lawyers later that evening.

Gag Gifts

Holiday gift-giving places a strain upon a lot of people but it takes a special breed of dimwit to be unable to distinguish between Christmas and April Fool's Day. On paper, the giver thinks it's cute. Everyone will have a good laugh, they'll bond over a well-planned jest and everyone will remember the joke fondly for years to come. In reality, the friend opens the box and finds a hat that looks like a spiral of dog-crap with the word "Shithead" spelled out on the brim. The giver bursts out laughing while everyone else's eyes shift about silently, nostrils flared with indignation. No words are spoken for three minutes. The recipient secretly wants to smash his brains into the wall because he got the practical joker an X-Box in return. Nothing brings two people closer like a big ol' slice of public humiliation. There is absolutely no occasion in which a "Bikini Inspector License" will be required, let alone appropriate. Nobody in their right mind wants a "Desperate Housewives" drinking dice game. Heed this advice: If your quest for holiday cheer leads you into Spencer's Gifts, you fail at Christmas.

Scratch-Off Lottery Tickets

"Here, I gave someone else five dollars. Merry Christmas!"

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Dec 19, 2009 - 07:14 AM
Still Not Planning On Seeing Avatar

C'mon folks.

I can't be the only person who sees this as nothing more than a fursona wet dream.

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Dec 5, 2009 - 03:14 AM
I feel

like I ate a Hot Pocket.


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Nov 26, 2009 - 11:41 PM
Worst Thanksgiving Ever.

Yesterday afternoon, my stomach became mildly upset. By evening, it had progressed into an ongoing series of cramps mixed with mild nausea. My mouth was rather dry, but all attempts at taking down liquids just resulted in painful vomiting. Having experienced this before, I knew that I'd become rather acutely constipated. I don't recall having eaten anything that would normally contribute to this but if there was any dehydration, that'd explain things.

I took a series of laxatives throughout the evening, hoping they'd take effect by mid-morning. All night, my stomach rolled upon itself, preventing me from gaining any considerable sleep. Routinely, I'd be overcome by nausea and would run to the bathroom for another episode of dry heaves mixed with delicious bile.

This continued throughout the morning and into the afternoon. I was weak, barely conscious and in a lot of pain. I took some medicine to settle my stomach but threw it up ten minutes later. Around 3PM, I was informed that Thanksgiving dinner had been served, but had to excuse myself as I was in no condition to force anything down my system. That would only aggravate my sad state.

At around 9PM, I finally felt the urge to use the bathroom. As I did, the pain in my stomach eased and the swelling in my lower abdomen went down significantly. Over the next hour, the blockage cleared itself and I was able to keep liquids down again.

At this point, I was feeling well enough to move around the house, so I ventured into the kitchen to see what I'd missed. I had no intention of eating but was definitely curious to see what could be had for lunch tomorrow if I was up to a meal by then.

Alas, there were no leftovers. The refrigerator was devoid of pans, of Tupperware, of even pie. After some investigation, I found all the remaining food had been packaged into Ziploc bags and stored in one of my brother's duffel bags. Not Merv, but my full blood-brother.

This was pretty insulting. I'd spent all day, doubled over in pain, forced to miss Thanksgiving dinner, and nobody stopped to consider that I might appreciate something to eat when I felt better. Instead, all the food was given to my lazy mooch of a brother. Mind you, this boy dropped out of high school, has never once attempted to enter college, has gone to prison twice, has never held a job for more than four months at a time, now refuses to be employed at all, mooches off his friends for food and shelter, and couldn't even keep a marriage together for more than six months. In effect, he has demonstrated absolutely no worth as a human being, has not earned a drop of respect, and yet he is given all the leftover food?

I have held the same job for nearly a decade. I saved up and purchased my own car. I am enrolled in culinary school, to begin next summer. I fought my way through illness and overcame all the obstacles set before me. I have never been in trouble with the law. My worth is self-evident compared to my wastrel of a brother. He should receive nothing. NOTHING.

And I don't even get the dignity of having Thanksgiving dinner, no matter how late.

Fuck this house. Fuck these people. I cannot wait until I move to Pennsylvania next summer. I will leave and never once look back. I will not return for the summer break. I will not come home for Christmas. I will not even call or speak over emails. They've done nothing to earn my fealty. I'm through with these assholes. They clearly do not want me and I do not go where I am unwanted.

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Nov 11, 2009 - 04:21 AM
Japan, I Finally Love You
Japan Outlaws Obesity

Essentially, the Japanese government has cracked down upon a growing rate of obesity in Japan. No, the Japanese haven't reached the epic levels of girth that we've attained in America, but it's apparently become enough of an emerging trend that they feel an urge to do something about it.

And this pleases me. We all see people when we go to the movies, the supermarket, the subway station, whose size is not only a handicap to themselves but an impediment to others as well. I see folk like this each day at work and it's genuinely disheartening. I know there are numerous conditions that can lead to obesity, and genetics need to be considered too, but too often is the case where the overweight individual has simply let himself go, giving in to the beast of gluttony. Everyone needs to eat but I do strongly believe that if you weigh over 300 pounds and cannot see your feet, you really have no business purchasing two pounds of salami. Obesity comes with so many problems: diabetes, sleep apnea, adema, hypertension, congestive heart failure - it's difficult to not worry about them a little. I watch them limp due to the stress on their knees. They're sweaty and out of breath from pushing a cart around. And I glance in the cart only to find it's filled to the top with stuff like cookies, ice cream, microwave dinners, chocolate milk, etc. Sometimes you just wanna slap a person for making you bear witness to their own destruction.

For too long, I've felt that we're simply too accepting of obesity, that it perhaps has lingering connotations of prosperity. I remember hearing that the opposite is, in fact, true: the well-to-do tend to be in better shape than the middle and lower classes. I place a lot of the blame on companies like Frito-Lay and McDonald's who manufacture garbage foods for prices that are lower than what one pays for the healthier alternatives. Something is indeed amiss in this country when a pound of broccoli crowns costs approximately the same as a Quarter Pounder with Cheese.

But I digress. Japan is getting it right. Once the paranoia junkies get over their cries of Big Brother! Big Brother!, what's left is a funded plan to encourage folk into living healthier, lowering the costs of health care. Large businesses are joining the movement by offering heavily discounted gym memberships and tending to the diets of their employees. People who fail to slim down over a period of several years have to pay extra into a public health care fund. It's not a perfect plan but it's something, a step in the right direction. Even a symbolic attempt at correcting a problem is more beneficial than turning a blind eye as we do in America. We're in a pretty sad state of affairs when a salad from McDonald's contains more fat than their Big Mac, don't you think?

Japan is constantly churning out WTF moments for me. They're strange people, they truly are. But this, I can get behind. It's the sort of firm nudge that I think many people here need in order to get back into shape. I'm certain this will never pass into law in the United States since too many folks will feel it's an infringement of their civil liberties but I'd like to see it come to a public vote anyhow, if but for one reason:

How does a fat person vote no if he/she can't get into the booth?

Response entries:
It won't work here. by Shorty

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Nov 6, 2009 - 06:07 PM
Marketing Fail

Something is ... amiss.

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Nov 6, 2009 - 01:47 AM
Really Guys? Really?

Yeah, I was kind of upset over the chat crap in which people assumed I cannot even do basic fractions just because I'm artistically inclined. Some people were joking around, some people probably believed I am just that retarded. Hard to tell who is which.

So I fumed and shit. It hasn't been a good three days for me. You don't need details - and you don't care - but suffice, it affected my mood greatly and I wasn't feeling very charitable toward the world. The whole ham fractions thing just sent me over the top, and I was already feeling pretty incensed over the raving support given to Skills's comment that the best job an art major can expect to get is working in a deli. I know I'm surrounded by math geeks, so that should've been expected.

But I went and forced myself to cool down. I decided it was silly and just wanted to move past the drama and not get upset over little things anymore. I spoke to Skills, who kind of antagonized the entire thing, and we made peace. We both kind of overreacted and yeah.

I was happy, ready to just drop the whole thing and let it settle into amusing history. But now this. C'mon. Let it die. I don't find the joke particularly funny, and yeah Diss, Radez, you're only going to act smug and point out my comeuppance because I laughed at customers. Fair is fair, karma's a bitch, isn't it? I accept your points.

So let's just move past this. Skills and I already agreed it was over. You guys are just whipping a dead horse at this point. The joke is done. I'm man enough to admit I overreacted and that yes, I laugh at customers who say stupid things, but I can be laughed at too. It's not so fun. Can we accept this and end the whole drama instead of dragging it on for reasons of LOL WE'RE BORED?

Oh, right. In before Devo:

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Nov 3, 2009 - 02:46 PM
The Following Are True Anecdotes
I am convinced that stupidity is an infectious disease, and that my constant, daily exposure to it will only result in a slow, gradual reduction in my mental faculties. Soon, I will find myself enjoying the comedy of Carlos Mencia, and I will be genuinely interested in NASCAR events.

I mean, idiocy must be transmissible, else there's no other explanation for the sheer amount of customers I encounter who have no concept of what's going on around them. They make unrealistic demands. They assume the illogical. They conveniently ignore fact. They revel in counterintuition.

It is not just the slovenly and poor who commit to these wayward shifts in logic. Well-to-dos, those dressed in business suits and who carry Louis Vuitton handbags, are just as wont to spouting the most absurd things. Stupidity infects without discrimination. There is an adage that states that the customer is always right. If this is true, then we've already been sucked into a black hole and everything we know is wrong.

Here is an assortment of statements and exchanges in which I or my coworkers have been regretful participants. They may or may not be verbatim but have been summarized to the best of my recollection.

Without further adieu:

"Can you take the olives out of the olive loaf? I don't like them."

"The sign for the ham says $4.99. Is that per pound or per slice?"

"Do you carry Boar's Head roast beef?"
"Sorry, sir, we don't have that brand."
"Oh. Well, can I get a half pound of it?"

"Yeah, give me a pound of that." (Points at the case)
"I can't see what you're pointing at; the case is at the wrong angle for us. Could you tell me which one you want?"
"Yeah, the one on sale."

"What's the difference between the capicola and the provolone?"

"My husband likes that cheese with all the really, really tiny holes in it. It's real mild. What one is it?"
"Do you mean the swiss lorraine?"
"My name's not Lorraine. It's Diana."

"Number 35! 35!" (Called by deli employee)
"I have number 41!"

"Hi, if I order a cold cut platter, does it come with roast beef?"
"Not normally, no."
"But if I wanted roast beef, you could put it on there for me, right?"
"Sure, substitutes are allowed. Would you like roast beef on a platter?"
"No, I don't like roast beef."

"Hi, can I help you?"
"Yes, all this order is to go.

"Can I get four quarter pounds of this bologna?"
"You want them in four separate bags, right?"
"No, you can put them all in the same one."

"I'm returning this ham. It's spoiled."
"Okay, let's see wha- ma'am, this ham was purchased in July. It's now October."
"Well, it's all brown and slimy. I don't want it."
"Ma'am, this package hasn't even been opened. Why didn't you eat it?"
"Because it's spoiled. I already told you."
"It wasn't spoiled three months ago."
"I was in Florida. I just got back."

"What are your vegan options?"
"Uhh . . . this is a deli. We really just do meats and cheeses."
"So you don't have anything?"
"We have coleslaw."
"Does it have meat in it?"

"How much is the Wunderbar bologna?"
"$1.99 per pound."
"Just give me two dollars worth."

"Gimme a pound of the roast beef."
"Which one would you like?"
"We have two kinds: the top round and the Ressler's seasoned."
"Which one is which?"
"The top round is the rarer one on your right."
"And the seasoned?"
"It's the darker beef on the left. Obviously."
"Yeah, a pound."
"Of which?"
"The roast beef."
"No, which beef would you like?"
"The one by you."
"That doesn't help me much."
"I don't understand."

"I need a pound of the mosquito turkey."
"You mean the mesquite, right?"
"What the hell is mesquite?"

"Hi, I'd like a pound of the Krakus ham, but I need it shaved so it's falling apart. Could you shave that a bit thicker than normal?"
(Note: This does not work.)

"I'd like to order an assorted sub."
"We don't make sandwiches here. You'll need to go to the Carry-Out Cafe right over there. They'll make your sub for you."
"Do I have to buy the meat here?"

"Number 55! Does someone have 55?"
"Excuse me, but why is your count so low?"
"What do you mean?"
"At this rate, I'll be here another hour."
"Well, what number do you have?"
"Ma'am, that's I 43. We called your number ten minutes ago."

"Okay ma'am, here's your pound of shaved turkey."
"Yeah, I changed my mind. I just want some of the maple ham instead."
"I wish you'd told me this a lot sooner."
"I was waiting for you to finish."

"I'd like some of the turkey that's on special, but I don't want the stuff you have here in the case."
"Well, that's the only place we have it."
"I want it cut fresh."
"We just refilled it five minutes ago. It's quite fresh."
"That's not fresh enough. I want it sliced in front of me."
"Okay..." (Gets a whole turkey)
"You can't use that slicer."
"Huh? Why not?"
"It's had other meats cut on it. I want you to take it apart and clean it."
"We're really busy, ma'am. That's gonna take a while."
"Do you want to risk cross-contamination?"
"Fine, fine. Once I've got the slicer cleaned, how much turkey do you want?"
"Just one slice. I'm making a sandwich."

"I need three half-pounds of genoa salami packaged in two separate bags."
"That's an improper fraction."
"Can you do it?"
"I'm . . . not sure. I was an art major."

"Hi. Can you tell me what's in a reuben?"
"Sure. It's corned beef and swiss on rye bread with sauerkraut."
"That's what I thought. I need a pound of the corned beef and a pound of the swiss cheese, please."

(Several minutes pass)
"Alright, here you go."
"And I need a half pound of the sauerkraut."
"We don't sell sauerkraut."
"Oh. Well, that kind of ruins it. I guess I don't need these anymore."

(Customer walks away)
"Ma'am, you're in a super. . .market . . ."

"How much would three pounds of bologna weigh?"

Response entries:
<Dubble> You just want to know, Lurker. by Sarag

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[public entry #62]

Nov 1, 2009 - 11:43 PM
Those bastards from OSHA came through my workplace today, and immediately condemned the three boxes of Mister Clean Magic Erasers that we keep around so that we can sanitize the knicks and cuts in our whiteboard countertops. They weren't pre-approved for use, so they had to go. Because the erasers had already been rung up as shrink, we split them amongst ourselves and each took one home.

I'd never used one of them before. But coworkers assured me that they were pretty handy at cleaning stubborn dirt and gunk that normally would require excessive scouring. So I gave it the best test I could think of: my bedroom door.

Back before I moved downstairs around 1996, my house was a duplex that we rented out. The last tenant signed a one-year lease and then decided she would take up chain smoking. By the end of her lease, this entire side of the house was caked in tar and grime from her two-pack-a-day habit. Of particular disgust was the door to what is now my bedroom; because of the cigarette tar that built up on her fingers, the area surrounding the doorknob on both sides, and the place where you'd usually push the door open became absolutely caked in grime. Over time, it darkened and became a sickly brown.

I'd tried various solvents - 409, Clorox, rubbing alcohol, Comet, Murphy's Oil Soap, witchhazel - but nothing cleared this grime away. I'd reduced it a bit, making the color less intense, but it refused to go away forever. I just sort of learned to live with it, spraying the area with Lysol now and then to make myself feel better about touching it constantly.

Thus, I figured if the Magic Eraser could hack through that, it could get rid of just about anything.

And it did! Five minutes of moderately firm wiping and the gunk completely vanished. It's such a small thing but I am so elated that my bedroom door is once again completely white! I don't know what that eraser is made of but it's my new favorite material.

I feel like I've discovered the treasure of the Sierra Madre. Finally, an effective cleaning tool that caters to my lazy streak! The only downside is that the magic eraser also completely sucked the natural oils out the skin on my hands. But I will tolerate that if it means my door is finally the right color.

This opens up so many possibilities, as there are numerous other surfaces I'd like to clean to a better finish. I hope these Magic Erasers don't cost an arm and a leg, since I plan to go out and purchase a dozen or so tomorrow. I know I will find uses for them.

I feel a bit like Sass, beaming with joy over something so small and domestic.

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Oct 31, 2009 - 05:42 PM
So i herd u liek halloween

Made this for my sister this afternoon. I told her, next year, choose something that involves something with holes thicker than 1/6 of an inch.

Response entries:
So I heard you are into vegetables and spray paint. by Thud.

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[public entry #60]

Oct 30, 2009 - 09:12 PM
Dun Dun-Dun Dun! (Snap Snap)

This is what I did tonight instead of doing something much better.

Long story short: Last week, this guy purposely avoids telling his girlfriend about a Halloween party, but someone else invited her anyway. She arrives, he gets pissy and immediately leaves. Later, two girls nobody knows well show up looking for this guy. The girl is pretty ticked off. I calm her down and we get to talking, eventually decide fuck it, we should get together instead. Plans are made.

Two days later, she cancels the plans. Doesn't want to give up on her jerk-off boyfriend too soon. Wouldn't be fair to see me before they're done. Whatever. Be that way. Ain't worth grieving over.

Today, she calls me. Nope, he's a total dick, fuck him, she says. She has two tickets to a live performance to Rocky Horror, do I want to go with her? Eh, I had no other plans. Why not? Great, I'll pick her up at 7:30.

Twenty minutes later, she calls back. Show is canceled due to a water main break nearby. They won't refund her money since the cancellation wasn't their fault. Act of God thing. She's out $40 and her plans are ruined. I say we could do something else. Nope, her mood is set. She wants to go lie down and cool off.

Ugh, fine. She's quickly becoming a waste of my time. Nice girl, nice to look at, great tits - but seriously, I ain't playing games.

Went to carve my pumpkin and bake the seeds. Far more satisfying than being yanked around by some woman who has no idea what the hell she wants. If I can convince her to fuck a few times before I move out of state, and before she goes overseas on her teaching internship, I'll consider it a success.

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Oct 24, 2009 - 07:16 AM
365 Days of Not Coughing Up Phlegm Balls
And so it was, a year ago to the hour, that I was placed under sedation and had my chest torn apart. They extracted the useless lungs I had and somehow inserted new ones with a minimum of cosmetic damage.

The following two weeks were one of the most disorienting, exhausting and physically painful experiences I've ever had. At several points, I thought I was going insane. It's a testament to my own willpower that I recovered and was released in near-record time: sixteen days, the second fastest recovery from a double lung transplant in clinic history. Sometimes, if you truly want something badly enough...

But I got through it and reached the one year mark. There have been a couple bumps but nothing like the problems my old lungs caused me. I'm back to work, and will be heading off to school soon enough, this time unburdened by the repeated illnesses that prevented me from completing my education before. It's an exciting prospect and I can barely wait.

I take a lot of pills now. I cannot eat grapefruit, and should probably be avoiding pomegranates too. The medicine gives me some occasional swelling in my calves and ankles, and it's made me diabetic - but these are rather small prices to pay in exchange for everything else. Had I chickened out, there's a considerable chance I wouldn't have made it this far without the new lungs.

I still don't know anything about the donor. I don't even know if the donor's family wants me to know anything. I will inquire, eventually. They don't typically tell you this information until you're well settled into the new routine anyhow. I can wait to find out that I'm carrying the lungs of a Puerto Rican lesbian if I must.

But yeah, it's been a year and I'm feeling pretty fantastic about it. I'm gonna buy me a cake at work and celebrate properly. Then it's off to a Halloween party with some friends, where I expect to be celebrated again.

I normally shy myself away from such displays, but not this time.

I've earned it.

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Oct 20, 2009 - 05:54 AM
Mystery Mp3 Time!
Get the Flash Player to play this audio file:


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[public entry #57]

Oct 18, 2009 - 10:25 PM
Reset Button

I've gone and returned everyone to their original names so that - for once - we can all be on the same page and know who's who for a few days.

Until more in-jokes ensue and people want new, ridiculous monikers.

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Oct 10, 2009 - 04:46 PM
55 Fake Cards (Magic the Gathering Nerdery)
I got into a somewhat heated argument with a friend last week. He works the overnight shift at a hotel reception desk and, to kill time, had made a bunch of fake Magic cards. He showed them off with pride but I was visibly less than impressed. Although he's been playing the game since around 1998, a lot of his ideas were either underpowered or just plain didn't work at all. I tried to offer suggestions for improving his ideas, without being a jerk about it, but he was already offended by my less than glowing reception.

We went back and forth on what constitutes a good card and eventually a challenge was issued: if I know so much about designing fake cards, why don't I make a bunch of my own and show him how it's done?

So I did. I spent a week, compared to his three, and cranked out 55 Magic cards. He has yet to see them, but I'm posting them here for general review, in case I'm overestimating my own skills.

(A note for those who know what I'm talking about: I'm a "top down" designer. I come up with a good card name, or find a compelling piece of artwork, and design a concept to match. Rarely do I come up with the mechanic first, then look for the aesthetics to go with it. I think this method adds a lot more to the flavor of some cards.)


I don't play much anymore, but I like to think that if Wizards of the Coast were hiring, I'd stand a decent shot at getting an interview, at the very least.

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Oct 7, 2009 - 10:38 PM
A Conundrum

I have basic accounts on sites like and eHarmony. I'm not serious about any of them, so I don't pay for a thing. It's just the free basic non-amenities such as having a profile and being notified during the blue moons in which someone shows interest in you. I've had the accounts for about a year, and the only reason they've ever existed is due to curiosity over what types of women their "complex algorithms" would match me with. I expect no activity and 98% of the time, I get just that.

Every now and then, I get e-mails saying that someone looked at my profile, or someone sent me a wink, an icebreaker, a howdy - whatever pathetic name they assign to a meek, first contact.

I am always very wary of these e-mails, since I've heard, and fully believe, that a large portion of them are auto-generated to lure non-paying registrants into forking over money for extra privileges such as being allowed to reply to messages, and to see the faces of the women with whom you're matched. I'm not eager to shell out their ridiculous fees to learn that my interested party was a bot account that doesn't reply.

But sometimes I read over the emails for laughs. It's amusing to see what they think I'll like.

Except tonight I got one that made me stop and sort of blink a few times.

Name: Rachel
Town: Hamburg, NY
Age: 32
Height: 5'1"
Occupation: Nurse

I think I know this person.

Before I received my transplant, there was a nurse, at the hospital I went to in Buffalo, whose name was Rachel and who fits all of the other descriptions. We got along very well, and she was hot as hell. Of all the nurses in that place that I ever wanted to get with, she was #2.

Naturally, I don't know if it's her for certain, but it would be, at the very least, interesting if it is. I uploaded a photo some time ago, so if she can view them - unlike me - and it's the Rachel I know, then she must know it's me. It's a shame that eHarmony practically chaperones the whole "getting to know you" phase with the austerity of an 80 year-old Catholic nun, so it'd be impossible for her to come out and say "Hi Al! It's Rachel, how ya doing?"

I'm pretty curious. Even if it's somehow not the Rachel I know, which would be beating the odds for sure, it's still a nurse my own age, and I've definitely got a soft spot for nurses.

But the only way to actually know is to give them some money. And that's where the conundrum lies.

What do the rest of you think? I'm completely torn down the middle on this one.

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Oct 5, 2009 - 03:41 PM
It's Not Just GameStop Anymore.
I've been clearing out old and unused items in my room, and decided to trade in a handful of DS games that I never play anymore. There wasn't any game I particularly wanted in exchange but I figured it'd be nice to have the credit on my account in case there's something I want in the future and am short on cash.

So I gathered up the games and drove to this store called GameCrazy. I'm under the impression that this is a nationwide chain, like EB or GameStop, but I've only ever seen this one. Still, they've always been decent and the manager, Tom, is a good guy.

When I arrived, there was only one couple ahead of me, and they were finishing up their purchase. They took their game and left, placing me next to receive service. I stepped up to the counter and the attendant just walked away without even acknowledging me. He walked to the back of the store and began fiddling with a stack of games on a display case.

But whatever. There were two other employees, one rearranging some X-Box accessories on a pegboard, the other just standing there talking to the accessory rearranger. They were having a conversation about some girl they both knew. Every now and then, the first employee would chime in with some derogatory remark about this girl.

As I stood there, I watched them. Occasionally, they'd look at me, then go back to their business of sorting game cases, hanging accessories, and standing around being useless. They made no attempt to say they'd be with me in a moment, or to ask if I needed anything. They just acted like I wasn't important.

After three or four minutes, I rapped a couple of the DS games against the counter loudly, so as to let them know I wasn't just appreciating the speckled formica counter. They looked at me, then at each other, and promptly went back to ignoring me.

About a minute later, the useless one doing nothing came toward me, made eye contact, then walked right by me. He reached under the counter a bit of the way down, retrieved a bottle of Pepsi, then walked right by me and the register again, resuming his position of leaning against a column and not doing a damned thing.

I cleared my throat, and inquired to the air in general, "Hello, is somebody going to help me?" None of them even twitched a muscle that would indicate an intention to do their job.

I'd had it. It was obvious they weren't gonna bother with me, and I was pretty enraged. I walked up to the counter closest to them and spoke a loud "Hey, fuck every single one of you. I hope Tom fires each of your pathetic asses when I tell him about this."

I then turned around and headed toward the exit, making sure to knock over several tall piles of old strategy guides on my way out. I figured it'd give the useless guy something to do.

I've come to expect this sort of behavior out of GameStop employees, as I've heard many a horror story from that place. But I guess the apathy has spread to the entire industry.

I've got the day off tomorrow. I think Tom and I will be having a nice discussion in the morning. If all goes well, a trio of assholes will be in the unemployment line.

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[public entry #53]

Oct 3, 2009 - 06:21 AM
An Experiment:

I have configured it so that whenever a new post or thread appears in Mom's Basement, Community Commons or Video Gaming, Guy Axelrod (Sparkles McGlitterbottom) will receive an e-mail notifying him of these urgent updates. I think that if we band together, we can annoy-flood the hell out of this kid.

This is a new frontier in trolling on GFF and I want to see if it works.

Incidentally, he's banned from my Journal, just to keep him guessing.

Let's see if he bitches up a storm or what.

Currently Playing: with Sparkles' mind.

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Sep 30, 2009 - 09:55 PM
I Grow Weary of Not Eating
I have a stepmother. I am not her child and there is some resentment against me for existing in the household before her arrival. This resentment has endured since 1985 and often manifests itself in the form of denying me that which would provide me comfort and self-esteem.

She is quite territorial, having staked out the kitchen as her personal domain. This is a problem, as the kitchen is one of those rooms that must be shared. Others are spared her jealous watch, for they are either the breadwinner or her offspring and have legitimate claim. I am neither; I do not deserve to use the kitchen.

I cannot be caught in the kitchen without receiving the hairy eyeball from this woman. I am using up valuable food resources, food that could otherwise go to her children or husband, not me. Never mind that I purchase 80% of the food I eat and merely need a place to prepare it. See, not only am I unwelcome, I am also incompetent. I am reckless and have no regard for the welfare of others. I am incapable of following printed directions. It is inevitable that I am going to someday reduce the house to smoldering cinders by preparing soup from a can. I am going to induce a nuclear meltdown when I microwave noodles for four minutes. This is not a matter of if, but when, and it's her responsibility to keenly monitor my every movement to assure that I don't consign the entire house to a premature demise.

I also use pans, plates and silverware that she must later wash. My hunger is a great inconvenience. I have offered to do the dishes so as to compensate for my presence in the kitchen. This is unacceptable because my incompetence extends to the act of cleaning also. I do not wash dishes her way, which is the only proper way. I will put them away in the wrong order. I will break the plates and crack the glasses. I will get the counter tops wet and it is tragically impossible to dry them with a towel. I will leave the washcloth on the wrong side of the sink and chaos will break loose. Demons will run free because of my lack of discipline. No, it is best that I not get near the sink lest we usher in a new era of darkness.

Four times tonight, I attempted to cook dinner for myself. My choice was not complicated - a can of Spaghetti-O's. Empty contents of can into pan; heat; serve; enjoy. Simple, right?

The first time, I was rebuked because she was using the oven to prepare cheese sticks and I would be in the way. Cheese sticks do not properly cook if there is other food nearby. Everyone knows this.

The second time, I was turned away because she was baking dessert and you cannot operate an oven and a gas burner without opening a calamitous vortex into the Skullgrinder Dimension. This is, of course, very harsh on the linoleum flooring.

The third time, I was denied because she had disassembled the stove top to clean out the burners and surrounding area. She knew I wanted to make some dinner but that was of no concern, the burner plates are dirty now.

The fourth time, I was sent out of the kitchen because she was washing dishes and cooking something would only dirty up another pan. I had all evening to make dinner, why was I waiting so late?

I was then yelled at for leaving my can of Spaghetti-O's on the counter. If I wasn't planning on eating them, I shouldn't leave them in her way.

This grows extremely tiresome. I tire of being given the silent third-degree every time I so much as prepare a sandwich. I tire of the guilt trips I receive for having the audacity to want food. I tire of watching everyone else eat dinner, knowing that there was not enough prepared for me, and knowing that I am not welcome to join them. I was here first. I'm more a member of the family than my stepmother or half-siblings are.

I just want to eat a meal now and then. Is this so wrong?

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Sep 4, 2009 - 03:12 AM
My Coworker Thinks I Am the Billboard Magazine of VGM
A coworker and I were discussing music and she, by some grace of God, brought up VGM. She'd heard a few pieces here and there, mostly from games like Final Fantasy or Katamari Damacy, and acknowledged that it seemed different enough from conventional music that it'd be worth further investigation. She has no tremendous interest in the video games themselves from which the music comes, just the audio, as she's a music major.

The next day, she brought in a USB drive and asked if I could please copy some of the better VGM tracks I have so that she could listen to them while she studies. Around fifty or so would be enough. She has no sense of purity when it comes to source material, so arranged tracks, doujins and independent work by composers are fair game.

I've spent the last couple hours trying to decide which tracks are good enough to share with someone who knows extremely little of the genre but is still an educated critic of music. It's all pretty subjective, so the best I can really do is present what I happen to like and hope for some level of agreement.

This is what I've got stored on the USB drive at the moment. I've uploaded them in case someone hasn't heard a particular track, and I didn't have much else to do. It's everything that I feel is top notch, which isn't to say the exclusions I had to make weren't worthy. I can make as many changes as I want before I hand over the USB drive on Sunday. If anyone can think of something crucial that I've overlooked, or someone has another suggestion, speak up.

(Before anyone asks, no, I am not trying to tap that ass. She's only 20 and is also kind of fat.)

Front Mission 5 ~Scars of the War~ Original Soundtrack - Quicksilver
PlayOnline Viewer (Game Rip) - Dolphin
Sonic 3D Blast (Gamerip) - Rusty Ruin Act 1
Tobi D+Vine Complete Soundtrack Arrange Tracks - Fly!
Eternal Arcadia OST - Yafutoma Dawn
Melody of Legend ~ Chapter of Love - Chiisana Hana (featured in Popolocrois II)
Hot Rod (C64) - Theme
Darwinia Soundtrack - Visitors from dreams
Impressive - Amaranth
Atelier Iris Grand Fantasm Original Soundtrack - Rain of Blossoms
Lost Files - Mysterious Story of the Island of Souls Part 4
Civilization IV Official Soundtrack - Baba Yetu
Yogurting Original Soundtrack - The Student Council is Very Busy!
Turrican Original Video Game Soundtrack - Freedom
CRISS CROSS ~ CROSS CHANNEL Soundtrack Arrange Version - Airwaves
Iridion 3D & II Arranged Soundtrack - Aniki
Sim City 3000 OST - Magic City
Planescape - Torment (Game Rip) - Annah's Theme
Sakura Wars 3 Vocal Collection - The Future (Voyage)
Swept Away - Before Dawn
Music From SSX Blur - A51
Guilty Gear X HEAVY ROCK TRACKS ~ The Original Sound Track of Dreamcast! - Calm Passion ~Staff Roll 2
The Gods Awaken - Jooli's Song
3rd GIG #Crescent - In Search of the Holy Sword -Seiken Densetsu-
Dance Dance Revolution Party Collection Original Soundtrack - Can Be Real (Soul House Extended)
One Man and His Droid (Game Rip) - In-Game Music
Rockman 5 Blues' Trap! PSX Arrange - Title Screen
Wild Arms 4 - Nightless City Guara Bobelo
Treasures of the Deep (Game Rip) - Wreck of the Concepcion - Credits
The Party 1998 Multi Channel Music - Kids
Falcom Special Box '90 - A Fast Flight to You (Ys II 'Ending II')
ATMOSPHERE -Poteneko Academy Original Sound Track 1&2 - Drug of Passion
Nobunaga's Ambition - Haouden - Blue Whitecaps
The King of Fighters '96 Arrange Sound Trax - Long-horned Beetle (Art of Fighting Team Theme)
Battle Gear 4 + Battle Gear 4 Tuned Original Soundtracks - Slippin' Away
Garakuta Masterpiece Theater Rakugaki Oukoku - The Sea
Mahou Shoujou Ai 2 ~ transformation ~ FULL ARRANGE ALBUM - pathetic battle arrange distortion of the space
Wild ARMs 5 - The Road to Tomorrow Follows Behind You
BATEN KAITOS II The First Wings and the Heirs of God Original Soundtrack - Deep Red Pastures
Immortal 3 - Ork
Twinbee Perfect Selection - Fantastic Powers (Twinbee)
Nanosweep 2 - Dazzling Rays
Persona 2 Punitive Dance - Akachochin Shiraishi ~Burn With Passion~
Genso Sangokushi II Super Arrange Version - Continental Highway
Music Contest 6 (The Hornet Archive) - Carpe Diem
Phantasy Star Online episode III C.A.R.D. Revolution - ''IDOLA'' The Strange Fruits
Acid Tetris - Tearing up Spacetime
Napple Tale Vol. 2 ~ Illustrated Guide to the Monsters - Wild Wind
Phantom Brave Original Soundtrack - Game Breaker
The Sims 2 (PC Game Rip) - Pop Station - Track 4

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Sep 2, 2009 - 03:48 PM
I Call Her "Taken"
Response to: She Calls Me "Firefly" by Crash "Long-Winded Wrong Answer" Landon

It turns out the girl from the linked entry has a boyfriend. Well, to be more precise, she has a fiancee.

You can learn a lot from Facebook.

So she is apparently just a gigantic flirt. Mildly disappointing but not the end of the world. What I have now is someone with whom I can practice flirting without fear of rash consequence.

It's just as well, actually. I'm moving out of state to go back to college in a year. I'm very reluctant to do the long-distance relationship thing again. I'll just use her to build confidence and then find a woman in Pittsburgh instead.

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Sep 2, 2009 - 02:48 PM
Because the Children Are the Future
Spotted this in front of a restaurant one street over.


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Sep 2, 2009 - 12:02 AM
She Calls Me "Firefly"

So a girl at work has taken to flirting with me in a major way. I confess, I'm somewhat oblivious and don't always notice the minor hints women send. But I think I'd have to be autistic to overlook these flirtations. They're pretty overt. She isn't two seconds and two feet into the break room before she's sending me a little wave. She runs her finger right through the pile of ketchup I've poured out for my fries. She makes jokes about the massive amount of meat in my stromboli and gently pokes at me. She has a nickname for me, it's "Firefly." I don't know what this even means but whatever. I named her "Sparkplug." She liked it.

I'm amused by it all, mostly because I don't really know this girl and have very little emotional investment in her. It took me a week to figure out her name is Meagan. She's cute and all, in a geeky way. Her glasses have thick, black frames, and her ears stick out a little - like mine - but it's not repulsive or anything. And she's a redhead, which I approve of. But aside from these and a scant few other facts, such as that she drives a Pontiac Vibe, she's a mystery to me.

I really don't know what's going on, and for the first time, that doesn't bother me. She flirts, I flirt back. We duel with our cellphones like they were lightsabers and dumb stuff like that. I don't know what her intentions truly are, so for now, it's just a silly game. If she keeps it up, maybe I'll give it more consideration. We don't see each other that often; she gets stuck manning the supermarket's gas station kiosk and isn't even inside the actual store half the time.

I'm fairly surprised that I've been able to treat the whole thing so casually. I tend to get paranoid over women, afraid of making the wrong move and ultimately making no moves at all. This time, my reaction has been a shrug. Not that I wouldn't pursue her if she wanted it, but until that's more evident, it's enough to be noticed. The rest of my day is business as usual.

But she's fun to talk to and has a nice ass, so I'm interested in seeing where this is going, if it's going anywhere at all.

Response entries:
I Call Her "Taken" by Crash "Long-Winded Wrong Answer" Landon

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Aug 10, 2009 - 03:05 AM
Okay, now shit's just getting weird.
First! A brief recap!

Thursday: Somewhere toward mid-evening, I feel a little warm. I have a fever of 101. I take a couple Tylenol and go to bed.

Friday: I awake with a fever of 103. I decide this is something a transplant patient shouldn't ignore and call the doctor. After some back-and-forth, I'm told to visit the Emergency Room. I go, they check me out, do some tests, then release me. It was felt that whatever I had, it probably wasn't as bad as what I could catch in the hospital. They give me a one-time dose of antibiotic and I leave.

Saturday: I awake and the fever has not improved. The doctor phones two prescriptions for antibiotics into the pharmacy, which I promptly pick up. I take one and wait for the evening dose to take the other. Two hours later, I vomit on an empty stomach. Twenty minutes past that, I become extremely lightheaded, my coordination goes to hell and my eyes become oversensitive to light. I also begin dripping sweat like a hog. With nobody at home to take me to the E.R. I sit down on my bed by the fan and cool off. My temperature is only 101. I take a two-and-a-half hour nap. When I awaken, I feel much better, the fever is lower and I'm hungry. I eat a can of soup and keep it down effortlessly.

I later go to bed and spend all night sweating like a pig some more. I get up at 6AM to change clothes.

Sunday: I awaken feeling much better. My temperature is 98.5. I take my medicines, then go have something to eat. Two hours later, I throw it back up. My temperature is still 98 degrees. I wait for the disorientation again but it does not come. I am not sweating at all. Throughout the day, my temperature remains stable and even comes in at a cool 97.7 degrees. I eat an entire box of macaroni and cheese and keep it down effortlessly.

I go to bed and HOLY FUCK

When I turned out the lights, my eyes went bugshit on me. I began seeing things, not just shadows on walls or spots, but actual things - things that are not in my room. I saw a fucking tiger leap across my room. I saw a bouquet of flowers in my hand. I saw pop-art posters all over the blank wall. I saw ships sailing from harbor - on my ceiling!

I am not lying.

And the whole time, all I could do was watch in reluctant amazement. I knew it was all fake, so none of it frightened me, and everything I saw was benign in nature. These weren't horrible visions, just stuff you might normally dream about, except I was seeing it while awake, and arguably sane. At any time I wanted, I could blink my eyes or wave my hand to make the hallucination disappear or alter form; I had modest control.

I experimented a little: I alternated between wearing my glasses and without. When the glasses are off, the visions become more vague and less representational of actual objects. I'd see an animal but it would lack defining features; I'd see both a lizard and a cat.
With the glasses on, the visions became much sharper and took on as close to three-dimensional form as they could. I saw an entire oceanscape, complete with islands, moon, clouds and waves, on my ceiling.

This only happens when it's dark, however. Turn on the lights, and I see everything as it is. Lights off and it's fantasy time, apparently. I remain calm and rational while it's all happening, it's just my brain going balls-to-the-wall with shadow tricks.

Initially, the anti-rejection drugs gave me a few hallucinations, and I was told that's very normal. It can scramble your brain at first, but the adverse effects are supposed to die down, and have. Or maybe had. Maybe the side-effects can flare up from time to time, except that the things I saw before weren't in this much detail.

So I don't know what the hell is wrong with me now. It began as a fever, moved into a bit of random nausea, then progressed to hallucinations - but only in the dark! I function as a rudimentary medical encyclopedia, and I'm pretty stumped here. I've come up with an initial list of possibilities:
  • The world's slowest-acting meningitis
  • A heretofor unknown drug interaction
  • A brain tumor
  • Completely unrelated mental illness showing up at the most coincidental of times

Now I think it's one of the antibiotics they gave me that's inducing the vomiting. I've thrown up twice, each two hours after taking it. I plan to take it tomorrow again, then wait. If it happens, then that's enough to convince me it's a mild allergic reaction and I'm done with that one.

But the hallucinations? It's an amusing personal cinema but I don't want to get to the point where I can't differentiate from anything in the dark. What if I have to drive?

Nobody told me a thing, when I was signing up for new lungs, that I could wind up seeing tigers jump around in my own bedroom. That's something they should really add to the brochure.

(And no, I haven't taken any Ambien.)

Currently Playing: tricks on my eyes

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Aug 7, 2009 - 10:19 PM
Update on the Trip to the E.R.

They took some X-rays and drew some blood, as I expected. The X-rays looked perfect, so there's no reason to believe I have a respiratory infection, which is very good. The blood tests showed no immediate problems other than a low white blood cell count, which is normal for someone who's had a transplant.

They filled me with Motrin for the fever and gave me a one-time dose of an intravenous antibiotic I've never heard of. I don't know what good one dose will do but whatever.

They called the transplant doctors in Pittsburgh and it was decided that I probably have a sinus infection or similar virus. Pittsburgh then told the hospital to send me home. They were worried that I could catch something worse in the hospital, like a pneumonia.

So, I'm home, still with a fever and instructions to keep myself full of Tylenol. I have a feeling I'll be going to Pittsburgh eventually since they probably won't be happy until they see me in person anyhow.

At any rate, I'm off work for a few days at the very least. Not thrilled about that since I have someone coming to visit at the end of the month and it'd be nice to have money to do things with her. But I'll enjoy the chance to sleep in.

Now I wait and see if this decides to go away.

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Aug 7, 2009 - 12:21 PM
I Got the Fever

102.8 Fahrenheit, to be precise.

This poses a particular risk since, for transplant patients, a fever means either of two options: a considerable infection, or rejection of the organ altogether. And the former can eventually become the latter.

So tests must be done. Bloodwork, x-rays, breathing tests, possible stool samples for all I know.

For that, I must go to a hospital. I'm not certain which one, at the moment. I've been spared the necessity of driving all the way to Pittsburgh where my specialists are. I sure am not going to the hospital across town. Last time I went there for abdominal pain in February, they looked at me with crazy eyes, like they'd never heard of a transplant patient before. I'm not eager to go to Buffalo General, since it's very possible I could wind up with a roommate.

Hospital roommates come in four varieties:
  • The All-Night Whiner: Doesn't sleep when you want to and instead spends midnight until dawn moaning "Nuuuuuuuuuuuurse!" in a constant attempt to reassure himself he hasn't been completely abandoned.
  • The Chatterbox: Wants to talk to you about everything, no matter how banal the subject matter. Do you have Jello on your dinner tray? So does he! Clearly you are meant to be lifelong friends. He has a cousin in Des Moines who wears the same color socks as you, perhaps you two should meet.
  • The All-Day Social: Is probably a nice enough person, but his network of supportive friends and family is neverending. They form a constant parade in and out of your room, flooding it with balloons, cards, gifts and snacks. They tell incredibly corny jokes, praise Jesus every nine seconds, and completely drown out the TV show you're trying to watch.
  • The Control Freak: Has been a patient in your room so long that her only remaining form of amusement is exerting pathetic dominance over all she can see. If you turn the bathroom light off as you exit, she gets up and turns it back on. If you watch the news on your TV, she drowns it out by turning Judge Judy all the way up on hers. If you're asleep and she's not, she'll talk loudly into the air until you're awake too. She is a spiteful old bitch.

So I'm waiting to hear back from my local doctor's office on where they want me to go. I could wind up there a while, depending on what's wrong with me and how long it takes to flush out the problem. The hospital I used to visit has wi-fi, but I don't know if I'm allowed back there now that my primary doctor has retired and is no longer servicing that place.

I guess we'll see what happens.

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Jul 14, 2009 - 11:52 AM
I'm Just Not Allowed to Have a Peaceful Week Off

This Thursday, I am scheduled to visit Pittsburgh as a follow-up to my transplant surgery. I was to meet with doctors, have x-rays and labwork done, then receive a bronchoscopy to check for rejection. Annoying but necessary.

Only I cannot go. The hospital in Pittsburgh is under the impression that my insurance coverage has changed, even though it's the same coverage I've had for three years. If anything has happened, it's that someone took down incorrect information and only now was this info corrected for them.

The end result is that they checked in with the "new" (read: proper) insurance and were informed that there will be no payments for services unless the insurance receives a referral from my primary doctor to be seen in Pittsburgh. Simple enough, right? After all, he's the guy who had me go to Pittsburgh for transplant in the first place.

Of course it's not that simple. One phone call later, I learned that my primary doctor is no longer with the group service I've been using in Buffalo, and that he's also no longer working with the respiratory clinic that has overseen my care for the past 25 years. In essence, he's changed affiliations and is no longer working as a general practitioner, leaving me high and dry.

Now I have to find a new doctor, preferrably one who knows what the hell's going on when it comes to respiratory problems and post-transplant patients. I'm told my physician left a couple recommendations behind but that information wasn't immediately at hand and someone would have to call me back.

So, until I can secure a new primary doctor, obtain an appointment to see the man or woman, get into their system, get the insurance okay with this person, then get the needed referral, I cannot have the routine checkups performed in Pittsburgh.

Normally, it would take a month or more to get into a new doctor's office, but I'm betting the gods of irony will make it simple to get in this week. Normally that would be great, but since I took the entire week off so that I could use up my paid vacation before it was lost, I decided it would be the perfect time to send my car into the collision shop. Since I'm not allowed to drive home after a bronchoscopy anyhow, my Dad and I were going to take his truck instead of my car. For the time being, I don't have a way to get to any doctor's office in the first place.

I'm hoping the respiratory clinic staff can provide an adequate referral, but that feels like a longshot. None of them are technically my primary physician. It used to be simple since my primary worked alongside them. I'll probably have to go to the office and go through all sorts of unnecessary screenings just to get what I need.

The insurance system in this country continues to become more convoluted with each passing day.

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Jun 27, 2009 - 09:18 PM
Holy Lanthanides, Batman
I'm probably one of the last people to be a science geek but even I am intrigued by the Periodic Table of Elements.

I just found the most gorgeous website that provides all the relevant information, plus many pictures of each specimen, all in one of the best formats I've ever seen. There is even a gallery, for each element, of mineral and other compounds that contain the specified element. If I'd had access to this as a child, I would've taken the sciences a lot more seriously.
I figured this was worth sharing for those who like both science and aesthetics.

Just scroll down the page about one wheel click and there will be a wooden table. Click on any of the element squares and enjoy.

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Jun 25, 2009 - 03:24 PM
Demonoid Invites?

A coworker clued me in to a pretty decent, but rare, band. After sampling some of their stuff on Youtube, I'd rather like to download the entire album and hear the rest. He says he found it on Demonoid, but I don't have an account.

If anyone has an invite to spare, I could use it.

And if you've any invites to similar filesharing sites, let me know. I could probably benefit from them as well.

Thanks in advance to anyone who cares to share.

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May 10, 2009 - 05:05 PM
Something That Crossed My Mind Just Now

How did Catdog poop?

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Apr 7, 2009 - 04:53 PM
Fuck Year This Will Finally Be Awesome
MTV's early 90s comedy skit series, "The State," is finally coming to DVD after countless setbacks and cancellations.

For people who are too young to remember, The State was a half-hour skit show comprised of several actors, many of which later went on to create and star in "Viva Variety," "Reno 911!," and the comedy troupe Stella. "The State" is one of the few worthwhile shows MTV ever aired.

As soon as the release date is announced, I am totally reserving this. I don't buy a lot of DVD collections but this is too good to pass up. I promise all of you that this will be worth picking up.

Currently Playing: $240 worth of pudding

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Mar 31, 2009 - 03:24 PM
WAUS - Weird Al Universal Showdown ??
We were talking about which Al songs should've been nominated to SAUS and we eventually determined that there is enough awesome in the Weird Al catalog to constitute its own competition.

Being a longtime Weird Al fan, I've got all the necessary music (even his work with Wendy Carlos if it's in that much demand) plus some of his rare b-sides and live-only performances.

There aren't enough tracks for a full 256 song bracket, but 128 is well with capability. The problem is that I have 143 eligible tracks, so 15 need to be culled before the thing even begins. Looking over the discography, this is easier said than done. There are some songs that I dislike, such as "Trapped In the Drive-Thru" but which are loved by others.

So, if this were to actually take place, hypothetically, which Weird Al tracks should be cut?

I'm thinking of preliminating (I just made that word up) the following for being amongst the less-inspired Weird Al songs:
  • Virus Alert
  • Toothless People
  • Let Me Be Your Hog
  • Don't Wear Those Shoes
  • She Never Told Me She Was a Mime
  • Generic Blues
  • I'll Sue Ya

Beyond these, however, the decisions become pretty difficult. Suggestions?

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Jan 5, 2009 - 09:02 PM
Photoshop CS3 Crack/Keygen

I've been trying to update to Photoshop CS3, but so far my efforts have been thwarted by non-functional torrents, CD images that don't work and functioning installations with non-functioning cracks.

Does anyone know where I can get a reliably cracked CS3 and/or a working keygen for it?

I'd be quite appreciative of any leads.

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Jan 2, 2009 - 06:35 PM
A Public Cookie Safety Announcement
I was cleaning out my cupboards today and happened across an open package of Nabisco Vienna Fingers. I recalled having purchased the package and having enjoyed several around Christmas time, 2007.

With slight trepidation I peered through the cellophane and inspected the cookies. Against expectations, I detected no mold, nor was there evidence that mice or ants had discovered the forgotten treasure.

Feeling bolder, I thrust my hand into the package and fetched a Vienna Finger. It was neither soft from moisture nor brittle from exposure. It felt as normal as the day the bag was opened. I broke it in half; the creme was still moist, refusing to fleck away at the touch.

My mind perhaps clouded by the mystery of the cookie, I proceeded to take a bite, half expecting the worst, perhaps the tastes of plywood and contact paper, absorbed via some kind of osmosis. I was instead greeted with the usual sweetness of shortbread and creme filling, with no detectable trace of pollutants. The texture was indeed as though the bag was freshly opened.

And this is why I am cautioning all of you to not purchase Nabisco brand Vienna Finger cookies:

They are made of zombies.

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Dec 31, 2008 - 06:56 PM
Fuckin' Hell, Gaim. New Account ID time.

Gaim auto-saves the last password entered, which is handy but also fosters forgetfulness. This afternoon, I mistakenly deleted my password and attempted to enter it again. My guess was incorrect and now the incorrect guess is stored. Gaim does not keep a password store in the registry, apparently, so I'm doubly screwed.

I went to to request my password but it sent the response to an old e-mail account that has evidently expired. In short, I've forgotten and cannot retrieve my password.

Fortunately, I had a backup account. Anyone wishing to find me on AIM shall have to add Retrogradio14 to his/her Buddy List.

Sorry, it's the best I can do.

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Dec 29, 2008 - 09:40 PM
This Has Been Annoying Me for the Past Few Days

It seems that every time I attempt to play a game on my laptop, something causes the whole system to spontaneously shut down. This has happened while playing Flash games on Kongregate, as well as during The Sims and Roller Coaster Tycoon.

I've checked for viruses, just in case but have come up with nothing. I don't have a lot to do while I recover still, and this is becoming more than just a little irksome.

What is potentially going on?

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Dec 28, 2008 - 04:54 AM
The Gift That Keeps On Giving
My friend Kevin presented me with an unexpected Christmas gift today. How he knew, I am unsure. However, I am not complaining because it is 110% awesome.


On a seperate note, it is December 28th and it is 65 degrees at 4AM in Buffalo. I'm quite enjoying it.

Currently Playing: Tally Hawk!!

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Dec 17, 2008 - 01:56 AM
Seris Told Me to Do This
She didn't want to feel like the only artistic person on GFF, even though Magi, Dubble and Kairyu are also here.

So I drew someone. Guess who it is.


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Dec 16, 2008 - 05:07 PM
I've never been one who believed in medicating mental issues, yet I am wondering if I could benefit from a small dose. I realize that I should be nothing but elated, having received new lungs and having obtained a longer lease on life. And on many levels, I am; the long term prognosis is quite positive. On a day-to-day basis, however, I'm going stir crazy.

I'm not allowed to drive; my ribs are considered too compromised. The soonest I'll be permitted is Christmas Eve, a full two months after surgery. I haven't seen many of my friends for quite a while, mostly because they have their own lives now and hanging out isn't as high on the social agenda. The internet is increasingly growing stale. Even videogames provide less entertainment than before. I'd go outside, but it's bitter cold and dark by 5PM. I'm not fond of this dreary weather and it seems to sap the life from me.

The fact that it's Christmas probably isn't helping. I have very little money, as I haven't worked since October and my disability pay has yet to arrive. I don't want others to feel they need to give me things either, as I can't reciprocate in any way. I dislike those feelings of debt.

I miss my job. It wasn't glamorous but it was something to do, and a reason to get out of bed each day. I didn't mind the environment, or even the people that much. It was an excuse to socialize on some basis, and I'm, at heart, a social person. Staying at home each day robs me of that outlet and I feel more disconnected each day.

It's like I have no purpose for now. My recovery, according to the doctors, has been extraordinarily swift, perhaps because I push myself and refuse to be weak. I've always been a fighter when it comes to my health. But now that my progression has moved so quickly, I've reached a barrier before I anticipated one would exist. I know I'm still immuno-suppressed and have to be cautious. But doing nothing isn't cutting it either. It's a peculiar limbo and I want out.

If I had someone to share the downtime with, I could probably cope better, but being single isn't making this simple. Honestly, I think this period of inactivity is far more difficult than the surgery and immediate recovery I had in November. At least then I knew what I had to do.


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Dec 14, 2008 - 12:45 PM
Beautiful Wasteland
Response to: The book of love is long and boring by nadienne

(I am bored, so I will do this and hope I am not so bored in ten minutes.)

Let it never be said,
She doesn't own a dress.
It's time to laugh, it's time to cry.
Whenever life gets you down,
Oracabessa moonshine is washing over me.

Well, I heard that you're leaving
Daylight is creeping
Hanging round downtown by myself
Don't pretend you don't know me.
Happy, smilin', cryin'.

Happy birthday!
I never felt that you would love me the way you do.
I know it sounds funny but I just can't stand the pain.
If you're waiting for your wings but you just got legs
If you, if you could return, don't let it burn, don't let it fade.

I took your heart to the taxidermist and I nailed it to the bedroom wall.
This bed is on fire with passion and glow
If I could walk a straight mile and write it down in shorthand
Who is this irresistible creature who has an insatiable love for the dead?
Come as you are, as you were, as I want you to be.

(Somehow this seems faintly coherent. Weird.
Instrumentals and foreign language songs were skipped by.)

Round 2!

Another Second Time Around

Now if you're feeling kind of low about the dues you've been paying,
I've found a way to make you.
You and I in a little toy shop,
All I have and all I do,
Like Jimmy Carter, like electric underwear.

If this is the way it's meant to be,
I see the headline news, the stories that I read do not affect me directly.
There are times when you get suckered in by drugs and alcohol and sex with women, mmmkay.
She moves like she don't care.
Well the fact of the matter there ain't no facts involved.

Someone in the club tonight has stolen my ideas.
Higher, higher than the sun,
Well, I'm going to the hardware store.
Hey baby, baby, what'cha want to calling me?
Honestly, cause I never heard a word you said now.

And it's a hot one.
You've been away, so long, too long.
Gather 'round ye lads and lasses.
Running out of excuses now.
You, doing that thing you do.

Third time's the charm!

Jackie Cane

I seen you darlin, seen you hangin' around town.
Slip inside the eye of your mind,
If I blow you a kiss, would you go the distance?
Have you ever been close to tragedy?
That's great, it starts with an earthquake.

You don't know how you took it.
My eyes don't see the obvious.
So you wanna go on the road.
It's been a whole lot easier since you left town.
If you wanna make a movement then you better come in.

Lose my head to the chemical freeway.
Some things in life are bad.
A tornado is blowing.
What in the world happened to you?
I found you on a suitcase cryin'.

Long before the screen door slammed,
I see your sister staring at me out of the window.
Well the rain falls down without my help, I'm afraid.
And I feel the time's a wasted go.
I've been downhearted baby.

(I might be pretty good at this; this one sounds almost cohesive.)

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Dec 11, 2008 - 05:21 PM
Trapped In a Well-Meaning Limbo
I'm currently in Pittsburgh to participate in a drug study. The drug tastes like shit but it's effective and they already know it has no ill-effects. But that's not what I wish to discuss.

Because my visit is related to the local hospital system (UPMC), I can stay in something called a "Family House." It offers lodging at a reasonable rate - $10 per night - but lacks the frills and services of an actual hotel. You supply and prepare your own food. You make your own bed and change your own linens. You're required to clean and vacuum your room before you leave, and there's absolutely no food allowed outside the commons area. If you know what a Ronald McDonald House is, you can get the gist.

And I've grown to hate it here. Aside from the abject dullness, I've come to detect a strong sense of malaise in the air. Some folks believe that emotions can be imprinted in the walls of a building. I am wondering if this is true, as I have plenty of energy when I am elsewhere but find myself drained whenever I return to the Family House.
The typical visitor is here because a loved one is in the hospital for a significant period and the family, who lives far away, has nowhere else to go. Many people spend weeks or even months here as their loved ones recover, or sometimes, wait to die. Other patients have recovered from surgery and are well enough to move about on their own, but not well enough to return home, as I was for a while in November.

Whatever the circumstance, it produces an aura of boredom, fear and hopelessness in the vicinity. The expressions on some folks' faces is one of thorough fatigue and numbness: they've been here for months and all sense of routine and home life is gone - THIS is now their life, until their relative recovers. And it's a bleak existence, living from day to day with little purpose, forbidden to return home because of the sense of duty to the sick. Life in limbo is not life at all, in my opinion, and it's that muted sense of despair that permeates everything in this place.

And I can't stand it. The only reason I'm here is because I am not yet allowed to drive on my own. Had I my druthers, I'd be staying at a Marriott or Holiday Inn - they offer discounts to UPMC outpatients. But the cost for two people is still a lot, and it's hard to refuse a fee of $50 for five nights when you're forced to travel with someone.

It's nice that a place like this exists for those truly in need, but I've paid my dues and am in recovery with a lot of hope for the future. I'm not supposed to feel wrung out just because of where I am. I return home to Buffalo tomorrow afternoon and I'm already chomping at the bit. I don't belong in an environment like this. I tried to explain to my Dad and he doesn't seem to comprehend.

I just needed to get that off my chest.

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Dec 10, 2008 - 02:46 PM
Let's Try This College Thing One More Time, Shall We?
Now that I am stable and have effectively triumphed over my respiratory problems, I should probably do something with my extended life. Thus, I'm going to college. My first two attempts failed because I kept falling ill.

I spent some time researching the two fields that interested me most - cooking and meteorology - and came to the decision that while the weather is indeed awesome to behold, the scientific side is perhaps a bit too dry for someone like me. With such an emphasis upon math, a subject I've never liked, I believe I would become bored, perhaps before I graduate. Cooking, on the other hand, is all about design and innovation, skills close to my heart. It doesn't pay as well as the sciences but I would prefer to be satisfied with my career than resent a dull one.

After some research, I've concluded that the Art Institute of Pittsburgh's culinary arts program is the best and most accessible for me. The syllabus is nearly identical to each other culinary school in the tri-state area, including the Culinary Institute of America in Hyde Park, NY, but for less money and within reasonable driving distance. The other culinary in Pittsburgh is a cordon bleu and focuses only upon French cuisine, and I'd like to be more well-rounded than that. It's also 40% more expensive.
It also helps that I'll be required to visit the hospital in Pittsburgh routinely for the next few years, so if it's only 20 minutes away, all the better.

I toured the A.I. yesterday, mostly to see if it was even a place I could tolerate. I'd heard mixed reviews. I was, however, pleasantly surprised and the environment felt correct for me. I observed the students passing through the corridors, sketching at their tables, chopping ingredients, etc. I didn't have to exchange a word to know that they were my people. The building is right in the heart of metropolitan downtown, making for a backdrop to which I'm not accustomed, but one that is also quite fascinating to watch. I think those who gave me bad reviews of their time at the A.I. expected more of a sprawling campus, more of the traditional ivy league environment.

I'll be obtaining a Bachelor's of Science degree in cooking and restaurant management, but attempting to squeeze the four year degree into three years. It is apparently very common for A.I. students to study during the summer, though not mandatory. Studying in summer probably isn't a bad idea, as that's when I normally feel my best anyhow. The third year is optional but it's also the difference between an Associates and a Bachelor's degree.

There's a ton of stuff to do, I suppose. My target enrollment date is October 2009, pending approval from my doctor. The idea is frightening, even at 32, as my health never allowed me to live away from home before. I don't really know anyone here aside from Capo and Ultima, and they have their own courseloads to contend with. And there's so much stuff I'll likely need to acquire. I mean, I need to get dishware! Towels! A vacuum! Pots and pans!

I feel slightly intimidated by the whole process and cannot imagine how 18 year-olds so energetically go off to school. I'm getting ahead of myself - I haven't even filed for financial aid and scholarships yet - but part of me is already wondering if I'll be able to accept a different bed for three years. Or a roommate. I'm a light sleeper and don't need to be disturbed by some idiot snoring all night. I'll fill his nostrils with glue if I must. I qualify for a single-bedroom apartment, but there aren't many available. Perhaps I'll get lucky.

I just feel the need to forge onward and get this done while I can. I'm almost 33, I don't want to work in a supermarket deli forever.

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Dec 4, 2008 - 09:36 PM
Stupid Music Shuffle Thing to Kill Some Time
Response to: Dragon Quest VIII, Hopefully New Job, Plus Music Thing from KrelEN by Helloween

As described in KrelEN and Helloween's Journals, it's time for another embarassing round of randomized awfulness. Let's all laugh as my suspect taste in music is laid bare for all to mock!

One music directory. Ten songs. Shuffle mode engaged. Megathrusters are go! LETS FORM VOLTRON!!

1) Weird Al Yankovic - Polka Party! - Polka Party!
2) They Might Be Giants - Apollo 18 - Space Suit
3) Lightning Seeds - Tilt - Tales of the Riverbank
4) Cowboy Mouth - Voodoo Shoppe - Home
5) Craig Chaquico - Panorama: The Best of - Beyond Words
6) Genesis - Turn It On Again ~ The Hits - Jesus He Knows Me
7) Counting Crows - Recovering the Satellites - Long December
8) Metallica - Load - Until It Sleeps
9) They Might Be Giants - Flood - Particle Man
10) Ben Folds - Rockin' the Suburbs - Carrying Cathy

I guess this reveals some things, things such as I like these here songs. How thrilling for you, the reader.

Now if you'll excuse me, I must FORM BLAZING SWORD.

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Dec 3, 2008 - 12:01 AM
And Crash Continues to Ride the Roller Coaster of Romance Free of Charge
As I returned home from my ordeal in Pittsburgh, one of the things I reflected upon was that my newfound health could give me a better chance of finding myself a girlfriend. I wasn't going to rush into the project, but I was pleased with the potential for the future.

Imagine my shock and secret delight when I received a praiseful e-mail that same evening. I'd made several comments on a local blog and one of the regulars wrote to say that she enjoyed my writing and agreed with what I had to say.

We continued e-mails for several days and learned that we had a lot in common. The same philosophies, the same preferences in books and film, mutual knowledges, we both speak French, plus much more. The synchronicity seemed uncanny. By Saturday afternoon, e-mails were being exchanged at a tennis-like pace, and I could sense both of us were a bit excited. We exchanged photos and whatnot. I thought she was really cute. She liked my geekishness. (Really.)

She requested that we chat over AIM, so I gave her the contact info and she found me online Sunday evening. We spoke for about three hours, discussing everything from coffee to family to the supernatural. Eventually, she announced that she had homework to finish and needed to do it before bed. I asked if she'd be online the next day, to which she replied yes.

I haven't heard a word from her since. She's been on AIM but her away tag is constantly up. I messaged her once, simply asking if she was up for chatting tonight, but received no response. I really don't wish to jump to conclusions but part of me suspects I'm suddenly being ignored. I'm really confused.

NOTES: We were discussing alternate religions and paganism came up. Neither of us are but I mentioned that several of my friends "are Pagans." She said that was slightly offensive; she disapproves of pasting labels like that on people because she's been called Goth even though she's not; it would be better to say I have "friends who practice Paganism." It's splitting hairs but maybe she had a point. I revised myself and she seemed satisfied.

At another point, she asked why I needed a lung transplant. I told her it was due to CF. To my surprise, she told me that her ex-boyfriend's brother had died of CF. In my mind, I was relieved because it meant she knew what CF is and perhaps understood what I'd dealt with. Now, I'm wondering if it hasn't scared her away. I got my transplant; I've effectively beat the disease. CF isn't going to kill me. I don't know if she understands this.

I hope it's not over so suddenly. It barely began. I mean, I don't know her too well but from what I was shown, I felt there was great amount of potential. I still do. I don't even know if I did something wrong.

I've been trying to find someone for a year and a half now and haven't even made it to the first date phase. I deserve someone too.

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Dec 2, 2008 - 07:10 PM
A Bit of Career Advice?

Now that my health is dramatically improving, I'm seriously thinking about getting the college degree that eluded me for the first part of my life. I attended twice before, majoring in Art and English, respectively, but as I've grown older, I've come to learn that finding jobs in those fields is a difficult task, almost like waiting for lightning to strike.

Right now, two potential careers appeal to me: professional chef; and meteorologist.

Professional Chef

  • Cooking is a form of expression, an area in which I'm naturally skilled.
  • Allows for a great variety of experimentation and specialization.
  • I have experience with most professional kitchen equipment already.

  • Obtaining a certificate likely means attending an expensive academy.
  • The sluggish economy isn't helping the restaurant industry. If things don't improve by the time I graduate, there may be too much competition for jobs.


  • It's a stable field. War or peace, rich or poor, there will always be weather, and therefore jobs.
  • It pays pretty well, especially if working for the government or an aerospace firm.
  • There may be interesting travel opportunities.

  • The curriculum demands a lot of math, which isn't really my strongest suit.
  • I am more prone to infection in cold air than most people. This may be an issue at some point.
  • There are not many colleges that offer meteorology as a major. I do not know if I can afford to travel too far to attend.

So I'm rather torn. Cooking would be the more satisfying of the two but there are job stability issues. I would deeply resent working for my certificate only to be forced into working at a T.G.I.Friday's to make ends meet.
Meteorology has the better stability and may pay more overall but I am not 100% certain if I could bear the courseload's numerous miscellaneous requirements.

So, if you were in my shoes, given these criteria, which career would seem most optimal to you? I'd like to hear some opinions beside my own.

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Nov 30, 2008 - 09:39 AM
Know What Sucks?

Having your blood sugar crash twice in one night - once at 2AM, the second at 9AM - both while you're asleep.

Talk about a rollercoaster. Nothing like sweating profusely from near hypoglycemic shock twice within an eight hour span. My t-shirt reeks now. I'm still mildly shaking.

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Nov 29, 2008 - 10:59 AM
Spontaneous Weight Gain

Since getting my new lungs, I've been advised to watch my weight. Not that I'm at risk for suddenly becoming a wisp, or anything. Quite the opposite, in fact. I've always been thin, on the verge of existing in only two dimensions at times. However, it is evidently typical of a post-lung transplant patient to put on considerable mass in the first year or two. This is due mainly to not having to breathe so deeply and forcefully just to survive; the amount of calories burned by deep breathing is far more than you think. This is why exercise is so effective: you not only burn calories in the muscle, but the increased respiration doubles your effort.

Last night, I weighed myself on the bathroom scale. I was 121 pounds. This morning, gazing at myself in the mirror, my face appeared fuller. I weighed myself again. 124 pounds. I somehow put on three pounds overnight when all I did was sleep.

I'm liking this. I've always wanted to wear pants without requiring a belt.

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Nov 21, 2008 - 12:36 PM
Wasting Away In Pittsburgh

I'm still idling about Pittsburgh. I've been released under my own cognizance, so I'm free to move about within the city, but going home to Buffalo is expressly forbidden. I haven't wandered very far, as I don't wish to push myself beyond my physical means yet, and also because I don't have a ton of money to throw at leisure. I whittle away the hours listening to my iPod, watching television, playing my DS or just napping. A lot of you would say that sounds like an ideal lifestyle but trust me, it gets old fast. And now that my stamina isn't a complete joke, it's even duller.

I'm staying at a "Family House" which is exactly like a Ronald McDonald House, but more tasteful. One of their more annoying rules is that each patient resident must stay with another person, be it a family member, spouse, friend, whatever. This requires someone else to suspend their day-to-day affairs and idle about Pittsburgh also. My dad has so far filled this role but I feel sorry for him. He's bored out of his skull and I've surmised that I'm far more self-sufficient than the typical patient guest. I don't truly need him for anything. But he cannot leave town without violating the terms of lodging, and I'd be cast out as well. His laptop screen broke and now he can't even rent DVDs as he's been doing.

It's quite dull here. The house was clearly furnished with the elderly in mind. There is a library on the second floor with a vast collection of inspirational tales of faith and triumph, courtesy of Reader's Digest. The rest of the books are seemingly Harlequin romance novels.
I am using the one available computer in the house. I have my laptop with me but the place has no wi-fi. Eighty percent of Family House's workforce is provided through volunteer conscription, and they're all aging matronly types who display no understanding of technology past 1982. My father offered to set up his wi-fi router for the house so that guests could use it while we're here but the caretakers regarded his proposition as though he'd offered to conduct Satanic rituals in the main foyer.

The other houseguests are all in their middle ages or beyond, and many of them are exceptionally pious. I won't begrudge them the solace that faith brings in their time of uncertainty but I wish some could keep it to themselves. People share stories here and when I tell them I had a double-lung transplant, the knee-jerk response tends to be that I am "blessed" or that angels are watching over me. I reason that they feel somewhat powerless in their respective situations, so it's simple to assume that everyone else is equally despondent. But I didn't get to this point by God's grace alone. I jumped through countless hoops before surgery, then scraped the bottom recesses of my willpower to get through the immediate recovery. Blessed or not, let's not overlook the merits of perseverance and tenacity. "God helps those who help themselves," do they not say?

I still feel adrift. I'm a (relatively) young person surrounded by folks twice my age, or more. We don't relate as well as I'd like and conversation suffers for it. We exchange banalities about the weather and hometown comforts - and that's it. Two different worlds under the same roof. I'm internally aching for someone my own age to talk to.
Two nights ago, some college students from Phi Kappa Epsilon volunteered their time by cooking a large dinner for the house. They were the first younger people I'd seen in weeks and I tried talking to them but they were more interested in chatting amongst themselves. One of them began conversing with me near the evening's end but she was cut short as the rest of the group informed her they were leaving.

On the plus side, I know I'm feeling better. One of the girls, a very cute brunette, wore a tight long-sleeve turtleneck and even tighter jeans. She had a gorgeous pair of D cups that held my attention for quite awhile through sideways glances. If she'd given even the faintest sign of approval, I'd have taken her to my room and dived headfirst between her breasts, or wherever. Honestly, I think it's a bit too soon to think about fucking the brains out of anything, but the return of my libido has been the most encouraging sign yet.

Oh by the way, Capo, Ultima, Wojo: I thought you guys were gonna find me and hang out for an afternoon. What the hell happened?

Currently Playing: Viva Pinata

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Nov 12, 2008 - 05:27 PM
Sweet Release

After nearly three weeks enduring various levels of institutionalized torture, the doctors agree that I'm well enough to leave the hospital today. I don't get to go home to New York, I have to stay at one of the associated community homes. If you know what a Ronald McDonald House is, then you have a firm grasp of where I'll be - minus the deranged mascots. I pay $10 a night, clean up after myself and supply most of my own food. I have no idea where to get this food but we'll see. I've saved up a small supply of pudding cups and Rice Krispies Treats from the nightly dessert cart. I expect those can tide me over until I locate whatever suffices for a supermarket in this city.

I've been told that three weeks is an extraordinary recovery time for a double-lung transplant, that most patients stay in the hospital for nearly a month, often more. I have to take their word at face value, as there's no comparable experience for me to draw upon. They insist that I feel fantastic, which may be true, in relative terms. I am still achy, stiff and easily tired - I had my entire torso mauled - so I am maintaining a conservative assessment of my condition. In time it will improve, I'm sure. Right now, I just want my ribcage to stop throbbing.

Likewise, they don't expect that I'll need to undergo local observation for long, maybe another three weeks. I have to go to a handful of clinic appointments and be seen by homecare nurses at the halfway house several times a week. Other than that, I'm a temporary citizen of Pittsburgh, free to travel wherever I like, whenever I feel up to it. I don't know the city well, and although my dad is coming down in my car, I'm not allowed to drive - nobody is immediately following chest surgery. I'd like to see what entertainment Pittsburgh has to offer but I don't want to overexhaust myself in the process.

I learned something about you healthy people. When you fully inhale, the breath doesn't expand your ribcage nearly as much as a person with diseased lungs does. It's a process called hyperinflation, evidently; the lungs, in their need to direct the same volume of air within a compromised space, adapt by expanding deeper within the chest cavity. Over time, the lungs themselves become enlarged, causing the owner to feel a breath drawn in as deep as the tops of the kidneys. Now that my lungs are healthy, there's no need to expand so much. Comparitively, my breathing feels shallow, even though it's not. As I work the lungs and they settle into my own chest, this tightness will completely disappear. For now, even though I'm much healthier than before, I still sound a bit like Stevie from "Malcolm in the Middle." It's like I have to learn to breathe all over again.

On the plus side, all those whacked-out side effects have largely ceased. I'm no longer hallucinating, no longer experiencing involuntary twitches that prevent me from sleeping. The tinnitus has cleared up and food tastes correct once more. All that remains is a slight oversensitivity to bright light and some swelling in the feet, which will both clear up now that the intravenous medicine has run its course.

I don't know what the internet status at this "Family House" will be. I might be sporadic in my attendance. I might just lay in bed for a couple days and enjoy a relatively interruption-free existence. Being free of all the tubes, wires, catheters and sensors is in itself a blissful state. I am untethered. You don't appreciate freedom until it is suddenly revoked. I signed up for this brutality, true, but it wasn't exactly mentioned in the brochures, so to speak.

Anyhow, I'm just relieved to be leaving this hospital. As much as I've griped about some of the stuff I've dealt with back home, the UPMC makes Buffalo look like the Hilton.

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Nov 6, 2008 - 02:07 AM
This Isn't Supposed to be the Psych Ward.
I am in a section of the University of Pittsburgh Medical Center that's dedicated to pre and post-transplant care. This section contains heart and lung patients. Many of us are tethered to monitoring devices, I.V. poles and other machinery. If shit gets real, that's a lot of baggage. I'm more mobile than most. I can disconnect a couple wires and tubes, then bolt if I must. One should hope this never becomes necessary, naturally.

Laying mostly asleep in my hospital room, moments ago, I was awakened by a loud clatter. Something in the nearby hallway had fallen. People were yelling. I had a family member bring me a fan to drown out the usual disturbances, so hearing this was quite alarming. There had been other incidents in which cardiac patients had required immediate help, I'd heard what that sounded like. This was very different, it felt very wrong for the usual emergency situation.

I could hear the immediate responses of other patients, to open their doors and see what the story was. The staff was quick to loudly demand that they close their doors. This was the message I gathered, though the words were unclear due to my fan.

I got up, turned the fan off and just listened. A man was furious. At first, it sounded to me like a patient was complaining of perceived abuses, but the whole tone was darker, more urgent. I can't tell but it was tense enough to believe that something seriously wrong had been attempted, or done, such as negligence leading to patient death, or murder. People were screaming, arguing. The one man with the African-American sounding voice was shouting "I kill dudes like you!" A woman named Angela was told to get right back where she was.

There were a lot of people speaking at once, so it was difficult to make out the sequence of events. It was heavy arguing between the African American voice and one of the floor staffers. The conversation had the ebb and flow of a negotiation sequence, one in which a person attempts to talk another down out of a manic state. A statement of "showing off for 30 people" came into play, making it sound vaguely gang-related. And someone else, an older voice, yelling about a tracheotomy.

This went on for about seven or eight minutes, a sort of Mexican standoff near my doorway. The African American voice was very agitated, very angry. I could hear the approaching sound of radios, signalling the arrival of some kind of security force. The tone outside became more subdued within moments, and soon there was mild laughter. The African American voice disappeared.

There was a lot of shuffling around of equipment and such, following this. I couldn't hear much of anything. A man with a two-way handheld suggested closing off the floor from outsiders, I think. Shortly thereafter, I could hear a male nurse, the one who'd been involved in much of the arguing, trying to settle the patient across the hall. He asked if the light should remain on, then gave an assurance that "that guy's not coming back here."

I have a vivid imagination, so I need to be wary about envisioning the worst possible scenario here. But based upon all the input, it seems like something very dangerous happened right outside my door, maybe even gang-related.

An hour before this happened, I had a very vivid dream. A curious side-effect of anti-rejection medication is that the adjustment period often brings with it some peculiar mental issues. Hallucinations, schizophrenia, violent mood swings, nightmares, personality disorders - these are all common. They're thankfully temporary. You cannot predict who will receive which, and I got hallucinations and nightmares.

The dream was relatively mundane until the section in which I, my father, and several folk from my neighborhood at home, came upon a mysterious, glowing, blue light. Upon further inspection, it appeared to be a small alien vessel that had been grounded with technical difficulties. But as we approached, we found ourselves glowing also, and I could feel the pulsing. When someone moved too near, it triggered an auto-destruct sequence that levitated the craft off the ground, into the atmosphere above, radiation growing in size and intensity. A skull image became visible in the maelstrom, then as it reached its zenith and was as large in the sky as our own Sun, it exploded forth, sending out twisting waves of destructive energy. As they bathed over the planet's surface, I could see and feel all matter, and seemingly reality itself, break its bonds as the concentric waves of the explosion literally dissolved everything in its path, before my rapidly waning eyesight. All objects were being pulled apart at their most subatomic levels. And I could sense the collective shock and terror of over seven billion souls as the consciousness of each was laid thin among the fabric of space in an instant, a final state of desperate self-awareness before nothingness took over - at which point I snapped awake with an elevated heartbeat and what must've been an expression of purest confusion.

But between seeing the earth's molecular demise and a possible homicide only ten feet away, I doubt I'll be sleeping much for the rest of the night.

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Nov 1, 2008 - 07:28 AM
In Which Crash Fucks Around With Ambien and Maybe Fights a Closet at 2:AM
I finally acquired some Ambien here. I'm not a heavy user but I do get spells of "hypnagogic jerks" that prevent me from settling into a normal sleep cycle; as my brain senses the slowdown commencing, a sharp, violent muscle twitch in the leg or arm usually, will snap me from my haze, making sleep difficult. This phenonemon isn't uncommon in people who go through large surgeries, then are not allowed to immediately rest. There are also crucial windows at which Ambien cannot be dispensed.

After a week of spending nearly every night with my eyes with open, I got myself the Ambien. Had to climb the doctor's ladder a bit to grab permission but who will stop me?

I took the Ambien with Vicodin, despite my personal concerns that the two have dangerous results. Evidently, this is a myth, or a gross overexagerration of the truth. What it did do was fuck me up in other ways.

After a half hour's of rest, I felt my subconscience flare into a little ball of bright light. The package rapidly spun like a Jiffy-Pop filled with Roman Candles. Somewhere in this, my body was sucked in and I flew around as a firework for a couple seconds. I then awoke, in bed, surrounded by the same eeriliy glowing hospital equipment. It took me several moments to realize I'd been asleep, and to stop believing it was all some hoax. I went to the computer at around midnight and spoke to my brother about it briefly. I then felt faint of mind so went back beneath the sheets.

Shortly after again, I awoke, realized I'd nodded off, then noticed the dinner tray had been removed. I was finally hungry, but where to get food? It should be noted that I'm currently connected to a small network of rubber tubes and cardio monitoring devices, each six times as large as necessary. In my confused stupor, I must have attempted to shut these objects in a closet so that I could freely wander to the cafetera at 2:AM. I had my computer open but most of my time was spent moving around cords and wires. I'd totally disbelieve this segment of the night had there not been a half-empty bag of Doritos and a can of Pepsi on my bedside table right now. Proof that I did somehow make my way over to the corner, grab the snacks, and get busy. But logistically, I never would've tried such a thing so I can only surmise that I'd been sleepwalking.

I awoke twice more, once in bed to the encouragement of a nurse who'd noticed that my blood sugar was dangerously low during a routine check. I guess she got me the orange juice in a glass that I could see.
The second awakening had me in bed again, with the nurse laughing that noe my blood sugar was too high. She chuckled as she threw out my orange juice.

I have little concept of time since then, and have suffered a couple small hallucinations since awakening (temporary effect of the anti-rejection drug), yet I feel as though I could drop right off to sleep at any point now, unhindered. That's what I was looking for.

To think, I could've been getting sleep every night if the nurse practitioner hadn't assumed that my request for a sedative wasn't tantamount to "Gimme narcotics!"? Nice enough woman but she needs to LISTEN.

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Oct 28, 2008 - 11:02 AM
Got New Lungs

Hey everyone, just a quick update to say that I've been recovering and am doing well. My dad has his laptop here so I can post for a moment. Just saying hello. I'm still in a considerable bit of pain but I'm tolerating. Improvements are slow and steady; I'm more mobile now and will continues to become so.

I'm a little tired, so I'm gonna cut it short. Getting chest tubes pulled is a draining procedure. Gonna need a nap for sure once the Percosets kick in.

But hello, GFF.

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Oct 23, 2008 - 10:00 PM
I'm Going to Pittsburgh.
This time it's for real. Just got the call, again.

Wish me luck, folks. This is it!

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Oct 22, 2008 - 05:58 PM
I Got The Call From Pittsburgh Today
...Around 2:30 PM.

I didn't go. Here's the story.

The transplant coordinator called me while I was at work. A set of donor lungs was going to become available very soon and they looked very good. The question was one of how well I've been feeling - good, bad, getting worse, staying even, etc? I told her that, all things considered, I feel pretty good for a guy who needs new lungs.

Here was the catch: the donor had a bit of a questionable medical history, cancer in particular. It had been in remission for a while and the lungs had never been noticably affected. Still, there would always be that risk, no matter how minor; if I accepted those lungs, I'd always have that sword hanging over me. The scenario, as urged by the chief surgeon, was that if I didn't feel well, I should take the lungs and accept the very slight risk of incidental cancer. But if I was getting by, it'd probably be safer to pass and wait for a better donor. Ultimately, it was up to me, and naturally, I turned those lungs down. Someone in a more dire situation could have them. Lung cancer is an irony I'd rather avoid, thank you.

So we continue to wait. The good news is that it's begun, I'm getting offers. I knew it wouldn't be long. As long as my health holds out, I can pick and choose. For the past month, I've sort of wondered what I'd do when the call from Pittsburgh came. Reality has a way of springing itself like a lioness on the hunt. Would I panic, would I hyperventilate and pass out? But none of that happened. I took it a lot more calmly than I figured I'd be able, which is good. I think it means I'm truly ready to go through with the whole ordeal. I figure that once they have me in their clutches and I cannot escape - when the imminence of transplant can be measured in mere minutes - that's when I'll be free to shit a brick and recant every horrible thing I've done.

Just the same, I knew it'd be a tad foolish to invest in a Halloween costume this year. Next year, I'll go whole hog.

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Oct 16, 2008 - 05:59 AM
On McCain, Obama, The Debate and Healthcare
I watched a large portion of last night's debate, something that's somewhat out of character for me.

See, going into the telecast, I wasn't firmly in any candidate's camp. I've been leaning toward Obama for a little while but it was mostly because I felt slightly less apathetic toward him. The deepest insight I'd had about the entire race was my general feeling that Joseph Biden doesn't make me feel as if my attention is being diverted from critical issues. I cannot say the same of Palin.

I sat through most of the debate, treating it as one would a drinking game. ("Joe the plumber" would've had me unconscious on the floor, soaked in my own vomit.) I cracked wise when able, sparing no punches for either candidate. In my opinion, Barack Obama still vaguely resembles Apocalypse from the X-Men and this concerns me.

Judge for Yourself!:

Anyhow, I was all lulz and shitgiggles until the mediator, whomever he was, raised the topic of health care. Certain issues don't faze me but, for several obvious reasons, health care is something about which I care rather deeply. My attention was fixed, I was in serious mode.

As I expected, each candidate proposed the healthcare plan that best suits the ideology of his party:
  • Democrats: Give money to people who don't necessarily deserve it, at the expense of people who probably worked pretty hard to get that money. Nobody wins but fewer people die in a ditch somewhere. Grant needful people access to government healthcare plans. Somehow, this is not the same as Medicaid.
  • Republicans: Keep the money in the hands of the people who already have it. Trickle-down economics will work one of these times! If we cannot afford healthcare, we will be guaranteed the freedom to choose the type of coverage we do not have!

Toward the latter half of the subject, McCain was handed the floor for rebuttal. He attempted to point out that not all people require their healthcare plan chosen for them, as Obama's plan could do in some situations. McCain then went and pissed me off. He referred to some existing policies as "gold Cadillac plans", then pointed out that they cover such frivolous procedures as cosmetic surgery and transplants. Though McCain didn't directly declare it, he strongly insinuated in his remark that organ transplant is as vain and unnecessary as a tummy tuck. Were it not for my own hard-fought efforts, I wouldn't have one of these "gold Cadillac plans" currently enabling my impending transplant procedure; and I don't enjoy being told that my reasons for pushing my physical limitations for the sake of keeping this insurance aren't as necessary as, say, Joe the Plumber's.

I can't support that. No way. It felt like a direct slight. I tried to view the statement more objectively but nothing could erase those words. This is a candidate who (now) opposes abortion, so the logical understanding is that McCain would believe all life precious. It seems rather hypocritical - at least to me - to then categorize organ transplants as superficial. He might as well have opposed seat belts after that remark.

I'm rather glad that Obama chose to point out that McCain's proposed healthcare bill would take unfair advantage of and restructure several existing corporate residency by-laws in such a way that healthcare providers would be allowed to "cherrypick" their customers, refusing coverage to some who fail to meet health standards. I knew this already due to having looked into the bill myself several weeks ago, noticing the same flaws. It made me leery of McCain but if Obama said nothing to oppose those points, then I'd have held him as a passive supporter of pandering on that level. Hence, why my support was still undeclared. We vote closest to the issues that resonate in our daily lives. This is how it should be.

I'm leaning a lot more toward Obama at this point, and unless he comes out iin favor of raping whales or turning babies into mulch, I'll probably vote for him. I doubt Obama will be as revolutionary as his campaign promises but as long as he doesn't do much actual damage he'll be leaps and bounds above his predecessor. It'll be a monumentally difficult task to somehow appear worse than G.W. after four years.

And McCain will always have the beer industry to fall back upon.

Palin can fall beneath a hay thresher for all I care. When members of your own party concede that your primary function is P.R. fluff, all credibility is lost.

Response entries:
For you, Crash. by Animechanic

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Oct 13, 2008 - 09:09 PM
A Potential Glimpse of "The Venture Brothers" Circa 2012.
I had another bizarre dream this morning. Much of the first and second parts were relatively uneventful, save for the end of the second section in which I was fleeing a pair of quack physicians down a byzantine network of corridors and side-rooms, the floors and walls of which were each covered in brightly colored fabric such that they might resemble stage props from The Price Is Right, only somehow far tackier. But despite the onslaught of bad interior decor, the best was yet to come.

After escaping the maze of psychedelic twisty passages, I found myself living in a boarding house somewhere on the low-rent side of Georgia's coastline. Through some leap of fate, I'd become a cast member on the seventh season of "The Venture Brothers," a point at which it was clearly obvious that the show had officially jumped the shark at least two seasons prior.

Patrick Warburton had left the show over contract disputes, so Brock Samson was nowhere to be found. Harry and Dean were off to college and were only referred to in the third person or during "hilarious" postcard sequences in which a house member fetched the mail and read aloud another of the boys' wacky fraternity adventures. Helper had come out of the closet as a gay robot and had taken on a fat, ornery live-in boyfriend who did nothing but eat and emit foul odors. Dr. Venture had given up the science business and was now the bumbling proprietor of the boarding house and also a vicious alcoholic. One of Dr. Venture's minor nemeses, some criminally ineffective lout, also stayed in the house, and in criminally ineffective fashion, continually failed to pay the rent, providing much fuel for conflict. Dr. Girlfriend was there, having abandoned The Monarch once again, along with her new husband, some decent-looking bloke whose name was never mentioned, presumably for comic purposes. The couple had a toddler son and had taken up Judaism to be fashionable.

I was the good-natured foil to the sociopathic crew that surrounded me. My particular function was to guard the "Bag of Treats," a large sack of sugary snacks that each other housemate desperately craved. I was like some kind of heroic Hamburglar, or something. This desire seemed to be the basis for many of the "episodes", demonstrating that the show had indeed passed its prime. I'd find myself scrambling around the house, trying to pry Helper's gay lover from the bottom of the bag as Dr. Venture, in a drunken rage, would round the corner and declare the he had a "hankerin' for something tasty."

In what must be the most absurd twist yet, it was somewhere decided that each episode had to end with one of the cast members saying "I love Hannukah!" One particular episode finished on a ten-minute standoff in which nobody wanted to utter the phrase and several contests of strength and endurance were held to determine the poor sap who had to demean himself or herself in order to close out the show. Dr. Girlfriend's son eventually threw himself on the grenade, drawing all sorts of canned laughter and cooing from the phantom audience.

As when many shows begin to fail, guest stars are brought in to shore up ratings. This was no exception. I was on the side porch, attempting to hide the Bag of Treats; there had been a flood and nobody was able to visit the Piggly Wiggly, so I had to preserve my treasure. I was startled by the gruff voice of John Goodman, looking very much like Walter Sobchak, approaching from behind in a rowboat. He'd come to have a few stern words with "that Venture feller." At that point, my subconcious mind knew it was time to pack it in and wake the fuck up.

So I did and here we are. I can't wait for the DVD release.

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Oct 6, 2008 - 06:50 AM
Know Your Musical Name Stereotypes!!
Here's a simple exercise you can do! Can you judge a band or musician with no more information than their name? It's easier than it sounds!

Just match the pretend band name from Column A with its corresponding genre in Column B!

Column B


Indie Folk


Blues Rock

Gangsta Rap


Alternative Rock


Death Metal

Column A


Willie Hootermeyer & the Bigshots


Tanya Ellerbee

Soul Reflect Phantom


The Sperm Donors

Mission Fifty-Five

Spencer Lee Bowbrook


How Did You Score?

If you need an answer key, you're a fucking idiot.

Congratulations! You are now a better music connoiseur!

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Oct 3, 2008 - 03:12 PM
To the Good People at Mirriam-Webster:

On principle, I am opposed to the word "indescribable."

Please note my dissatisfaction.

Thank you,
Crash Landon

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Oct 2, 2008 - 06:27 PM
A Lewis Black Moment
As I passed through my department, I was able to overhear a customer - a twitchy woman whose brittle, greying hair and prodigal crow's feet betrayed her attempts at appearing young - whine to my coworker as her meat order was being prepared. They'd been speaking for a couple minutes, the two of them. I'd seen them conversing though my ears could not know the words from my first position. My rational mind insists that what I heard was logically bracketed within a larger context. I but for the life of me cannot imagine what that context is, however. Like Lewis Black at the Ihop, I am forever doomed to carry about this nonsequitur whose basis for existence is thoroughly intangible. It now haunts me like an icepick lodged in my brain which would cause immediate and excrutiating death if removed, so hence shall it remain for all my days as a reminder to whistle much louder as I work.

Because misery appreciates the value of complicity in like spirits, I share here the words that gave me pause to stare blankly for three minutes as a thin rivulet of drool formed at the base of my chin.

I expect that the time for warnings has passed, for if you've made it this far, no sensible cautions will steer you from your masochism. May God take mercy upon your foolish curiosity.

Originally Posted by Some Stupid Customer
"I'm colder today than I've ever been. It must be due to the dampness. I think I'll have french toast for dinner."

Enjoy your apple, Eve. The garden of your sanity is forever lost.

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Sep 24, 2008 - 08:27 PM
I Was Awakened From the Greatest Dream Ever

It's boring as hell here in the hospital so I took a nap to pass time.

As I've mentioned, I'm on a list for a lung transplant. The dream played into this. For some reason, it was decided that I'd need to have the procedure done in Hawaii. Of course, that's a long way from home, so I was placed in a hotel room to wait until that important call. It was an okay room, nothing spectacular.

My doctor complained to the surgical staff, the wait could be a while as it's dependent upon random misfortune elsewhere. I'd need a better room. The hospital responded with vigor.

I was given the most amazing hotel suite ever. I'm not kidding. The base rate for paying customers was $250,000 per night. It had four spacious floors. The upper three were mezzanined and all were connected by both staircase and a private elevator. Each floor had a balcony that overlooked the Pacific Ocean and had a spectacular view of the evening sunset. The ground floor of the hotel had a four-star restaurant and a twelve-screen IMAX theatre, each of which were available to me at no cost.

Because of the indefinite waiting period and the size of the suite, I was allowed to have twenty friends stay with me for support. There were enough bedrooms for each and they (the friends) were offered the same free amenities as I. Some of the people were GFFers, particularly those with whom I shared a house in Maine back in May. I won't say precisely whom so that people don't feel left out.
We explored every nook of that suite, revelling in the heady discovery of each awesome luxury. The first-floor swimming pool had a waterslide that began on the third floor and snaked its way down, and also a Vegas-style fountain in the middle, which periodically sprayed a thin column of water as far as the fourth floor. The kitchen was fully stocked with restaurant-grade equipment and a walk-in pantry and cooler stocked to the hilt.

I remember picking up a small handheld device, similar to a PSP. It was a portable gaming system that was loaded with the entire libraries from the NES, SNES, Genesis, TG-16, 3DO, Dreamcast and all incarnations of the Gameboy (dunno about Virtual Boy). It was complimentary, much like the mints on one's pillow. There was no penalty for keeping the system.

The excitement and the maritime air had done me a world of wonder and I was able to breathe deeper than I have in probably twenty years. I remember the sensation of drawing in a much fuller breath of air. It felt alien - not bad, just alien. But it gave me the energy to run around the place at top speed. I passed by people playing video games on the sofa, people sunning themselves on the balcony, folks working out in the private exercise room, etc. If you wanted to do it and it could feasibly fit into a luxury hotel suite, it was available. Even bowling.

I spontaneously developed telekinesis. Don't ask me how, it just happened. I was hovering two inches above the floor as I wandered about. It was not an unpleasurable experience.

Of particular interest - and this is why the dream is perhaps the greatest I've ever had - someone had found a stereo and its accompanying library of music. As I proceeded to move downstairs, I was struck by the familiarity of the tune.

It was a synth-metal remix of "Dave's Theme," from Maniac Mansion.

I've never heard any remix of that song, let alone a metal one. But it was goddamned immaculate. My brain came up with that shit. I'm stunned by this knowledge.

It was right at this moment that the nurse barged in and I was jerked back to furious reality. No hotel room, no cineplex, no party with friends, no Maniac Mansion remix.

In related news, today I was told that I'm at the top of the waiting list. The next set of AB+ lungs is mine. All I can do is wait and wish I had that Maniac Mansion song.

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Sep 23, 2008 - 02:06 AM
ITE: Naked Dancing Mo0

I fucking warned you.

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Sep 21, 2008 - 01:22 PM
Slight Transplant Update
I spoke with my doctor this afternoon in an attempt to learn my relative position on the double-lung list. It's possible that I could be the only AB+ candidate and this knowledge is good to have.

He doesn't know for certain. The list is organized by severity; those in most urgent need receive the organs first. There are multiple criteria which determine this ranking. As of next Friday, new criteria are being added, specifically the presence of high carbon dioxide levels within the blood. I've had problems with that one.

As the chief surgeon told my doctor, if I'm not transplanted by next Friday, the new organization will increase my odds.

...if I'm not transplanted by next Friday.

My doctor cannot confirm anything but the implication from the transplant specialist is that the operation could very well happen sometime this week. As he told me this, a shiver ran down my spine. It changes nothing but it does bring the prospect that much closer, makes it seem far more real. I was hoping to get all my ducks in a row before undergoing the operation. I may not have the opportunity.

We shall see, won't we?

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Sep 20, 2008 - 05:21 PM
This Is Where Things Get Serious. Seriously.
I've been in the hospital, again, for the past two weeks. I didn't make much fuss about it because I know that some folks are wont to send gifts and such. That's all very appreciated but it's normal for me to endure several of these hospitalizations a year. Last year, there was a generous show of support - it was definitely what I needed at the time - but to continue playing the victim would be a shameless and materialistic grab at free loot and sympathies.

It's no large secret that I have Cystic Fibrosis. If you're not familiar with the illness, I won't explain it here in detail. You have Google, look it up. The end story, however, is that my lungs have slowly become pretty useless. I'm only able to use approximately 22% of the total volume. I also deal with painful adema and sleep apnea as side effects.

Back in January, I travelled to Pittsburgh to visit a team of specialists. After a week of tests, they decided that I qualify and am a good candidate for a double-lung transplant. However, once transplanted, the patient must negotiate tricky rejection issues. It's foolish to jump the gun and transplant before a person truly requires the procedure. I was placed in "observation" status, then sent home.

No longer. The medications require larger doses to have an effect, and I've built resistances to several. The side effects of illness are becoming more than mere annoyances. When it was learned that the carbon dioxide levels in my blood are much higher than normal, the decision was made. I'm officially on the waiting list for a double-lung transplant.

I've known this was coming, I began thinking about it a decade ago. I've long since resolved myself to the ordeal. Right now I'm filled with a curious cocktail of excitement and terror. Fact: I am volunteering to have my own lungs torn from my body. There's a very real possibility that I will not awaken. There is also a very real possibility that I'll experience newfound levels of health and stamina unlike anything I've known. The latter is worth risking the former.

The obvious question now is when will the transplant happen? That, I don't know. I can't know. It relies entirely upon something bad happening to another person. Such things are unpredictable. My job is to be ready.

What I do know is that I have very little competition, if any. Transplant waiting lists are sorted by blood type, and mine is AB+. That's rather rare and there aren't many people with my type seeking new lungs. There's a very strong possibility that I'm the only person on that particular list. Of course, this goes both ways; lungs from an AB+ donor are much rarer than those from common blood types like O. Nevertheless, they do show up. It's just that the rate of availability is nearly impossible to predict due to the rarity. I could get the call as early as tomorrow afternoon or it could be months.

I am now faced with the proposition of how to handle my employment. I may not be in the best condition to continue working. Many of my monthly debts - auto loan, dental, credit card, medical bills - can be indefinitely deferred under the pretense that I'd be too sick to earn a living. Many institutions won't argue against a person who needs new organs. Bad, bad press, right there. I'd go on full Social Security and pick up Medicaid. The upside is that Medicaid covers nearly all transplant expenses.
I'm allowed to continue working if I truly wish. I may, though I wonder if the management will strongly encourage me to quit once they learn that I'm active on a transplant list. I don't accuse them of being concerned for my well-being. No, it seems like something they'd do to avoid having to pay for several months of disability.

But today marks the beginning of an interesting new chapter in my life. The foreshadowing is omplete and now we're just building toward suspense. I will arrange for a way to keep GFF notified when the event does take place. I'll probably have Merv create a thread and keep it updated.

In related news, this probably means I'll have to pass on the 2009 Meet. As much as I'd love to go again, I can't guarantee that I'll be in good enough health. Maybe I'll feel like a million dollars by then. But there's no way to know and in the meantime, I should probably dedicate my resources to the far more important task at hand.

So yeah, interesting day I've had.

I'm totally gonna bring my harmonica.

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Sep 11, 2008 - 03:39 PM
Come Back, Awesome Spider.
The afternoon sun casts quite a radiant glow against the roll-down window blind here. In the yellow light, I observed the magnified silhouette of a spider. Being one who knows his spiders, I was intrigued; the shadow was far more exotic than the typical house-and-garden spider. Long, defined legs and a slender abdomen are signs of a curious specimen indeed. I could not tell if the little fellow was inside my room or beyond the glass so I tugged the cord to raise the blinds. In my eagerness, I spooked the spider and he swiftly scuttled out of my sight. It has been thirty minutes and I've not been graced by its return.

Some cultures believe that a spider brings luck and blessings unto a home. I like that idea. It's been a slow day and I no longer suffer the arachnophobia of my childhood. I only wished to study and marvel at its form. I could use the pleasurable company of a dedicated hunter, honestly.

EDIT: My spider buddy chose to return and I am thrilled. I was misled by the silhouette's angle; the abdomen is quite round and not slender at all. He is the color of iceberg lettuce and has several markings about his abdomen. My research leads me to believe he's an Araneus Cingulatus, an orb weaver. Here is a picture of his kind:

He has only dangled by a single thread so far, teasing me with his presence. He is outside, so I can be confident he will find succor. If he remains, I shall award him a name.

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Sep 5, 2008 - 06:40 PM
Complete Sniglet Compendium Pt. 1
Sniglet (snig' lit): Any word that doesn't appear in the dictionary, but should.

In the 1980s, C-list comedian, Rich Hall, co-conceived a literary masterstroke: a collection of ersatz words created by the common man, used to describe all-too-common items, actions and phenomena - concepts that, by all means, should have a word attached yet inexplicably didn't. Thus, the "sniglet" was born to mild pop culture success, and equal ignominy. Language nerds embraced the form; everyone else arched a single eyebrow and went back to their Duran Duran albums.

However, this Journal could not stake its claim as the "word kingdom" without containing something so ridiculous and pompous as a collection of Sniglets, so I've taken the liberty of acquiring the original books and am transcribing their contents here for the enjoyment (and bewilderment) of all who give half a damn about language.

Note: As these were written between 1984 and 1989, some Sniglets may contain one or more outmoded references. If you don't understand a particular entry, don't blame me. Blame your parents for not fucking soon enough.

ABANDABAG - (uh ban’ duh bayg): n. The lone suitcase that keeps circulating the airport luggage carousel.

ABZOT - (ab’ zoht) n. The device in a currency changer that determines whether a bill is too wrinkled or not.

ACCELOYELLOS - (a sel' oh yel' oz): n. People who enthusiastically speed through yellow traffic lights. (See also: INDYSECOND.)

ACCIDUE - (aks’ ih dew): n. The small pile of broken glass, chrome and other debris that remains at the scene of an accident several weeks after an accident.

ACCOMOMAMMADATION - (ah kom’ oh mam uh day shun): n. The inconspicuous manner in which a woman adjusts a fallen bra strap.

ACCORDIONATED - (ah kor’ dee un ay tid): adj. Being able to simultaneously drive a car and refold a road map.

ADAM 69 - (ad' um siks tee nyn'): n. Two cop cars, parked in opposing directions, exchanging information.

ADHOKUM - (ad’ hoh kum): n. The overt implication, in commercials, that just because the actor is wearing a white lab coat, he must be an expert.

AEROBICROACHER - (ayr oh' bi kroch ur): n. A person who gravitates toward another's space while exercising.

AEROMA - ayr oh’ mah): n. The odor emanating from an exercise room after an aerobics workout.

AEROPALMICS - ayr oh palm’ iks): n. The study of wind resistance conducted by holding a cupped hand out the car window.

AETS - (ehtz): n. Unintelligible symbols on water fountain handles.

AGE OF CLAUSABILITY - (ayj' uv klaw' za bil' ih tee): n. The age at which we stop believing in Santa Claus.

AGONOSIS - (ayg oh noh’ sis): n. The syndrome of turning into “Wide World of Sports” every Saturday just to watch the skier rack himself. (Outmoded sniglet)

AIR LASER - (ayr' lay zur): n. The stream of high-velocity air above your airplane seat that can be adjusted to: a) sting your face, b) sting your ear, c) sting your hair

AIRDIRT - (ayr’ durt): n. A hanging plant that’s been ignored for three weeks or more.

AIRCAPPED - (ayr' capt): v. To be temporarily crippled when the airplane passenger in front of you drives his seat back into your knees.

AIREPT - (ayr’ ept): n. The tendency to wipe out an entire shelf of souvenirs with one’s luggage in an airport gift shop..

AIRPLAUSE - (ayr plawz'): n. Gratuitous ovation awarded a pilot upon completion of a safe landing.

AIRPUNT - (ayr' punt): n. Any series of kicks that advances one's luggage toward the airport counter.

AIRSUPIAL - (ayr soop’ ee ayl): n. The pouch in front of you, on an airplane, that holds the airsickness bag and in-flight magazine.

ALFALFABET - (al fal' fuh bet): n. Backwards letters used only on clubhouse doors.

ALFRED HITCHCOOKING - (al' fred hich' cooh king): v. Continuously stabbing at a block of frozen vegetables to make them cook faster.

ALPHAFLUB - (ayl’ fuh flub): n. Any mismatched letter(s) on a movie marquee that has comedic consequences (i.e., Fetal Attraction, Running Sacred).

ALPOGOALIE - (al poh goh' lee): n. Any dog smart enough to use its paw to pin down a dog dish.

ALPOLECTIC FIT - (ayl’ po lek tik fiht’): n. Convulsive state of a dog upon seeing its master arrive home in the afternoon.

ALPONIUM - (al poh’ nee um): n. The initial blast of odor upon opening a can of dog food.

ALTEATRAZ - (ayl tee’ traz): n. The small leaves that manage to escape from tea bags into the liquid.

ALTIPULP - (al' tih pawlp): n. Any periodical found within an airplane (Skymall, Ultra Triathlete, Greek Pottery Monthly, etc.) that holds the interest of absolutely no one on board.

AMAZINGRAZIN - (uh may' zin gray zin): n. The ability to cut a piece of cake with a little plastic fork on a flimsy paper plate while simultaneously holding a large beverage, a cute little napkin and a cup of mixed nuts.

AMBIPORTALOUS - (am bih port’ ahl us): adj. Possessing the uncanny knack for approaching a set of double doors and always pushing the locked one.

ANACEPTION - (an uh sep’ shun): n. The body’s ability to actually affect television reception by moving about the room.

ANANANANY - (an a na' na nee): n. The inability to stop spelling the word "banana" once you've started.

ANAFONDICS - (an a fon' diks): n. Exercising to a workout album at 16 RPM. (Outmoded sniglet)

ANCHORITY - (an chor’ ih tee): n. A group’s final, hard-fought decision on what toppings to order on a pizza.

ANTALIXIC - (ant uh lik’ sik): n. One who passes over all the licorice jellybeans in the bag.

ANTICIPARCELLATE - (an tih sih par’ sel ayt): v. To wait until the mailman is several houses down the street before picking up the mail, so as not to appear too anxious.

APPLAFLAMMAPHOBIA - (ap la flam uh fo' bee uh): n. The fear that upon departing for vacation, you've left an appliance on that will burn the house to the ground.

AQUACOUSTICS - (ak wa koo' stiks): n. Sound waves in the bathroom that enable anyone to sing on key.

AQUADEXTROUS - (ak wah deks’ trus): adj. Possessing the ability to turn the bathtub faucets on and off with one’s toes.

AQUALIBRIUM - ak wah lib’ ree um): n. The point where the stream of drinking fountain water is at its perfect height, thus relieving the drinker from (a) having to suck at the nozzle, or (b) squirting himself in the eye.

AQUELLO - (ah kwel’ oh): n. The intense shade of yellow that is used to distinguish all waterproof materials.

ARACHNIDIOT - (ar ak ni’ dee uht): n. A person, who, having wandered into an “invisible” spider web begins gyrating and flailing about wildly.

A.R.G. (AUDIO RETINAL GYRATION) - (ay ar jee): v. To move one’s head in a circular fashion while attempting to read a rotating record label.

ARROWNEOUS - (ayr oh' nee yus): adj. The quality of anyone who flagrantly drives against the arrows in a parking lot.

ASHTRACTION - (ash trak’ shun): n. The point at which you stop paying attention to what a person is saying and start wondering just how long the ash at the end of his cigarette is going to grow before it falls into his lap.

ASPERBAYERPERPAIRPERFECTION - (as pur bayr' pur payr' pur fek' shun): n. The ability to always extract exactly two headache tablets from the bottle.

ASPITRON - (ass' pih tron): n. The tiny "brain" in an aspirin that tells it exactly to which part of the afflicted body it must go.

ASTEREXASPER - (as tuhr eggs as' pur): n. Any asterisk without a corresponding footnote.

ATTRINYL - (a try’ nil): n. A black, bulletproof, totally inflexible type of plastic, used primarily in the manufacture of pay phone directory covers..

AUDIOSIS - (awd ee oh' sis): v. Hearing a sound you don't notice until the sound stops, e.g., the furnace or refrigerator shutting off*.

AULDLANXIETY - (old lang zi' et tee): n. Experience of waking up on New Year's Day and wondering how much of a fool you made of yourself the previous night.

AWSLICE - (aww' slice): n. The first slice of a wedding cake, the one which ruins the design and causes everyone to sigh.

AZUGOS - (as' you goes): n. Items placed upon a step or banister to be carried upstairs by the next ascending person.

B+ STAMPEDE - (bee’ plus stam peed’): n. The attempt by half the classroom to claim the paper with no name on it.

BABO RECLOSO - (bay’ boh ree kloh’ soh): n. The futile attempt to reseal a can of powdered bathroom cleanser.

BABYBUFFERS - (bay' bee buf furz): n. People who hang "Baby on Board" signs in their car windows, as if the rest of us are driving around thinking "You know, I'd like to plow into that car but I don't want to hurt the baby."

BACHSLAPPER - (bahk’ slap ur): n. Anyone who applauds the wrong part of a classical music concert.

BACKSPACKLE - (bak’ spak uhl): n. The markings on the back of one’s shirt as a result of riding a fenderless bicycle.

BACKSPUBBLE - (bak’ spuh buhl): n. Dishwater that disappears down one drain of a double-sink and comes up the other.

BALDAGE - (bald’ ij): n. The accumulation of hair in the drain after showering.

BANDILE - (ban’ dyl): n. The thin red strip one pulls to release a Band-Aid from its wrapper.

BANECTOMY - (bah nek’ toh mee): n. The delicate removal of bruises on a banana.

BAR-B-COUP - (bar' bee koo): n. When your uncle or any other obnoxious relative commandeers the outdoor barbecue grill against your wishes.

BARCATHROTTLE - (bar kuh thrah’ tuhl): n. The wooden lever at the side of a recliner that acts like a gearshift.

BARF UNITS - (barf yew’ nitz): n. The number of groups of people you count off in the line ahead of you at an amusement park ride, trying to determine how long before it’s your turn.

BARFIUM - (bar' fee um): n. The horrible smelling cleanser used to mop down school corridors.

BARGARCS - (bar’ jarks): n. The streaks on car’s windshield from faulty wipers.

BARGUS - (bar’ jus): n. The area on the windshield that the wipers can’t reach.

BACKIN-MYDAY ACT OF 1901 - (bak' in my' day akt uv nein' teen oh wun'): n. Law created in the early part of the twentieth century which made it mandatory to build schools at least 20 miles away from all future grandfathers.

BALLYBUSTER - (bal' lee bus tur): n. A pinball machine with one dead flipper.

BARBALYSIS - (bar ba' lih sis): n. Condition that arises from having to keep your head motionless while getting a haircut.

BARCUUMING - (bar' ku ming): v. Using the family dog to remove the crumbs that have fallen to the floor.

BATHBURP - (bath’ burp): n. The eerie tendency of a bathtub stop to loudly release itself a few minutes after you’ve turned off the shower.

BATHQUAKE - (bath’ kwayk): n. The violent quake that rattles the entire house when the faucet is turned to a certain point.

BAZOOKACIDAL TENDENCIES - (bah zew’ kuh sy duhl ten’ den seez): n. The overwhelming desire within most individuals to lunge forth and pop the gigantic bum bubble billowing from someone’s mouth.

BEAVO - (bee’ voh): n. A pencil with teeth marks all over it.

BEDWINDS - (bed' windz): n. Those mysterious drafts that always prevent a bedsheet from drifting perfectly onto the mattress.

BELL NUTWORK - (bel nut’ werk): n. The system of squirrel transportation provided by telephone lines.

BEVAMETER - (bev’ uh meet uhr): n. (a unit of measure) The distance a coaster, still attached to the bottom of a wet glass, will travel before it falls back to earth.

BEVAMIRAGE - (bev' uh muh rahj): n. The deceiving black ring around the bottom of a two-liter soda bottle. (Outmoded sniglet)

BIBBLAGE - (bib' lij): n. The angle of one's body while scanning a library shelf.

BICOMA - (bih koh' muh): n. The nonfunctioning pen you return to the pen caddy thinking somehow it will come back to life at a later date.

BILBOUS - (bil buhs): n. The one person on every trip that feels compelled to read every passing billboard aloud.

BIMBIO - (bim by’ oh): n. The fictional data on the back of a Playboy centerfold.

BIMP - (bimp): n. A blurry or “double-edged” felt-tip marker.

BINGOBABBLE - (bing' goh bab bull): n. The increase in vocal activity that occurs when dozens of people are only one number away from reaching Bingo.

BINGOOPS - (bing’ ewpz): n. People who prematurely yell “Bingo”, then try to make the mistake.

BIRDMANTRAS - (burd’ man trahz): n. The point at which repetitive bird chirps begin to sound like human phrases (e.g., “No sleep for you. No sleep for you. No sleep. . .”).

BIXPLEX - (biks’ pleks): n. Psychological block in which a person cannot choose which color of disposable lighter to purchase.

BIZOOS - (bih zews’): n. The millions of tiny, individual bumps that comprise the exterior of a basketball.

BLEEMUS - (blee’ mus): n. The disgusting film on top of soups and cocoa that sit out too long.

BLIBULA - (blib’ byuh luh): n. The spot on a dog’s stomach which, when rubbed, causes his leg to rotate wildly.

BLIMPLIMENTS - (blimp’ lih mentz): n. The toppings at a low-calorie yogurt parlor that effectively cancel out the whole reason for eating yogurt in the first place.

BLINDELIZE - (blin’ dul eyez): v. To scratch an album beyond recognition while trying to maneuver it over the record spindle.

BLISTERPEG - (blys' tur peg): n. The irritating part of a flip-flop sandal that holds your foot in place.

BLITHWAPPING - (blith’ wap ping): v. Using any item except a hammer to force a nail into the wall (i.e., shoes, lamp bases, doorstops, etc.).

BLIVETT - (blih’ vit): v. To turn one’s pillow over and over, looking for the cool spot.

BLIX - (blikz): n. The moving part on the inside of an ice cream scooper that carves and ejects a single scoop.

BLOBIAGE - (bloh' bee ij): n. The propaganda sticker on electric hands-dryers that attempts to convince you they're preferrable to paper towels.

BLOG - (blahg): n. Overly generous deposits of fish food floating at the top of an aquarium.

BLOOAGE - (blew’ ij’): n. The residue left on fingers after using an S.O.S. pad.

BLOSSOR - (blos' er): n. The unique "winged" hairstyle achieved after wearing a baseball cap for several hours.

BLOTCH - (blahch): v. To slap the bottom of a ketchup bottle with increasing intensity. (See also: BLOTCHSLIDE.)

BLOTCHSLIDE - (blahch’ slyd): n. A sudden deluge of ketchup that flows forth from smacking the bottom of the bottle too hard, too many times. (See also: BLOTCH.)

BLURFLE - (bler’ fuhl): v. To be caught talking at the top of one’s lungs when the music at the bar or club suddenly stops.

BOBAROMA - (bahb’ ah roh mah): n. The pungent odor that remains in the air after using aerosol hair spray.

BOBBLOGESTURE - (bah bloh jes’ chur): n. The classroom practice of not knowing the answer but raising one’s hand anyway (after determining a sufficient number of other people have also raised their hands, thus reducing the likelihood of actually being called upon).

BOGUSH - (boh’ gush): v. To obligatorily spout phrases like “I’ll call you soon” at the end of a date because you can’t think of anything else to say.

BOMB BIN - (bom' bin): n. The plastic tub at airport security counters where you deposit your personal effects before passing through. (NOTE: HEY KIDS! DON'T USE THIS WORD AT THE AIRPORT!)

BOMCA - (bahm’ kuh): n. A lubricant derived from the salivary gland used for turning book pages.

BOOPCHATTER - (bewp’ chat uhr): n. The series of high-pitched beeps that you hear at the beginning and end of prerecorded cassette tapes.

BOSLUM - (bahz’ lum): n. The small metal ring on a ballpoint pen that seperates the top half from the bottom half.

BOVILEXIA - (boh vih leks’ ee yuh): n. The uncontrollable urge to lean out the car window and yell “Moo!” every time you pass a cow.

BOWFFANT - (bau font'): n. The pastime of turning your dog's ears inside out and folding them across his head, even though the dog seldom appreciates the levity of the situation.

BOWLIKINETICS - (boh lih kih neh’ tiks): n. The act of trying to control a released bowling ball by twisting one’s body in the direction one wants the ball to travel.

BOXSQUATTERS - (bahks’ skwah turz): n. Baseball fans who wait until the third or fourth inning and then sneak down to better seats.

BRATTLED - (brat’ uhld): adj. The unsettling feeling, at a stoplight, that the busload of kids that just pulled up beside you is making fun of you.

BRAZEL - (brah’ zul): n. The scratch plate on a matchbook.

BRIMPLET - (brim’ plit): A frayed shoelace that must be moistened before successfully passing through an eyelet.

BROOP - (broop): n. The useless pocket on a pajama top.

BUBBLEWEISER - (buh bel why’ zur): n. The yellow liquid found in a carpenter’s level.

BUBBLIC - (buh’ blik): adj. Addicted to the systematic popping of the bubbles in packing material.

BUCKLINT - (buk’ lint): n. The fine red and blue threads running through dollar bills.

BUCKSTACY - (buk' stah see): n. The joy of finding forgotten money in a coat or pants pocket.

BUCULETS - (buk’ yoo lets): n. The bumper guards on the underside of a toilet seat.

BUGPEDAL - (bug’ ped uhl): v. To accelerate or decelerate rapidly in an attempt to remove a clinging insect from a car’s windshield.

BULLSHIDARTIST - (bul' shih dart ist): n. A person who positions his darts directly into the bullseye at the end of a game so that the next person entering the room will think he's a dart wizard.

BULLSLOTS - (bul' slotz): n. Post office mail slots marked "In Town", "Out of Town", etc., which everyone knows empty into the same bin anyhow.

BUMPERGLINTS - bump’ ur glitntz): n. The small reflective obstacles in the middle of interstate highways which supposedly keep drivers awake and on the track.

BUNIONETTE - (bun’ yun et): n. Any young professional woman in business attire and Reebok sneakers.

BURBULATION - (bur byoo lay’ shun): n. The obsessive act of opening and closing the refrigerator door in an attempt to catch it before the little automatic light comes on.

BURGACIDE - (burg’ uh syd): n. When a hamburger cannot endure any more torture and hurls itself through the grill onto the coals.

BURGATORY - (ber' ga tawr ee): n. The place where unsold burgers go when the stand shuts down for the night.

BURSPLOOT - (bur’ sploot): v. To position one’s thumb at the end of a garden hose to increase the water pressure.

BUSBLENDER - (bus’ blen dur): n. The device at the front of the bus that tosses your fare around for a while, then swallows it.

BUTTBLOTTING FLUID - (but' blot ing floo' id): n. The mysterious blue liquid they pour onto diapers in diaper commercials to demonstrate their absorbency.

BUTTHENGE - (but’ henj): n. A pile of cigarette butts occupying a parking space.

BUTTNICK - (but’ nik): n. The crevice on an ashtray where the cigarette rests.

BUTTRAS - (but' ruhs): n. Those small buttons in a plastic bag that accompany finer clothing.

BUYZANTINE - (by' zan teen): adj. Architectural style, prevalent in museums and amusement parks, designed so that guests can only exit via the gift shop.

BUZZACKS - (buz’ aks): n. People in department stores who walk around picking up display telephones and listening for dial tones even when they know the phones are not connected.

CABNICREEP - (kab’ nih kreep): n. The structural condition in which the closing of one kitchen cabinet causes another to open.

CAFFIDGET - (ka fij’ it): v. To break a Styrofoam coffee cup into several hundred pieces after consuming its contents.

CALTITUDE - (kal’ tih tewd): n. The height to which a cat’s rear end can rise to meet the hand stroking it.

CANAFLATIONARY ZONE - (kan uh flay' shun ayr ee zohn): n. The area on the back or spine of a book or magazine that reveals the price, making you glad you're an American. (U.S. $4.95/CAN $6.95)

CANTWITIONIST - (kan twi' shun ist): n. A person who manually "rushes" the lid on an electric can opener.

CAREENA - (ka ree’ nuh): n. Any mangled or missing piece of highway guardrail.

CARJONES - (kar’ hoh’ nez): n. The incredible bravery one possesses for as long as you are inside your car.

CARPERIMETER - (kar pur ihm’ ih tur): n. The zone between the wall and the end of the vacuum cleaner where dirt is “safe.”

CARPERPETUATION - kar’ pur pet yoo ay shun): The act, when vacuuming, of running over a string or piece of lint at least a dozen times, reaching over and picking it up, examining it, then putting it back down to give the vacuum one more chance.

CARPILLARY ACTION - (kar' pih ler ee ak' shun): n. Property that enables water to move up a windshield while the vehicle is in motion.

CARSNIGLEGENS - (kar snig' luh jenz): n. Things that cause cancer but have yet to be revealed so by science.

CARTERNITY - (kar tur’ nih tee): n. The law that states that characters in a comic strip will remain the same age forever.

CARTHRITIS - (karth ry’ tis): n. The pathetic struggle of an old power window to make that last inch upward.

CARTIPILLAR - (kar' tih pih lur): n. A line of cars waiting to get onto the freeway at rush hour.

CATATOMIC DROP - (kat' uh tom ik drop): n. "Factory testing" of a cat to assure oneself that the "always lands on its feet" principle still holds true.

CATLAPSE - (kat’ laps): n. The amount of time a cat sleeping on his owner’s lap has to awake and prepare to hit the floor before the owner stands up.

CATPLAST - (kat’ plast): n. The built-in element that allows a cat to occasionally stretch himself to astounding lengths.

CATTARACT - (kat’ ar akt): n. Any fat Garfield cat attached to a car window that partially obstructs a driver’s vision.

CELLOSTATIC - (sel oh stat’ ik): adj. The electrical property of cracker and cigarette wrappers that causes them to stick to your hand.

CENTSTRESS - (sent’ stres): n. Anxiety felt during the mad scramble for loose change when the cashier says, “Do you have a penny?”

CEREOALLOCATIVE - (seer ee oh ayl’ oh kay tiv): adj. Describes the ability of a seasoned breakfast eater to establish a perfect cereal-to-banana ration, assuring that there will be at least one slice of banana left for the final spoonful of cereal.

CHAIN GANG WALK - (chayn gayng wawk): n. Activity observed in the footwear section of cheap department stores where the shoes are wired together “for your convenience.”

CHALKTRAUMA - (chawk’ traw muh): n. The body’s reaction to someone running his fingernails down a chalkboard.

CHARCOPHILE - (char koh fyl): n. A masochist who loves burnt food.

CHARP - (charp): n. The green, mutant potato chip found in every bag.

CHECKUARY - (chek’ yew ayr ee): n. The thirteenth month of the year which begins on New Year’s Day and ends when a person stops absent-mindedly writing the old year on his checks.

CHEDDARBLISTER - (ched' ur blihs tur): n. The bubble formed when making a grilled cheese sandwich.

CHEEDLE - (chee’ dul): n. The residue left on one’s fingertips after consuming a bag of Cheetos.

CHEERIOMAGNETIZATION - (cheer ee oh mayg neh ty zay’ shun): n. The tendency of the last four or five Cheerios in the bowl to cling together for survival.

CHERK - (churk): n. The person in the express lane at the grocery store who writes a check for two items.

CHICLEXODUS - (chik uhl eks’ oh dus): n. Any attempt by a gum ball to sneak out of the chute and roll past the buyer.

CHINDEPENDENTS - (chin’ dee pen dentz): n. The few hairs that always remain after shaving that aren’t noticed until several hours later.

CHINGRIP - (chin’ grip): n. The area where the chin meets the neck, used for holding the pillow as one slips the pillowcase on.

CHIPFAULT - (chip’ fawlt): n. The stress point on a potato chip where it breaks off and stays behind in the dip.

CHIPLINGER - (chip’ ling ur): n. The bits of raw vegetable and broken snacks that blend into a dip during a large party.

CHOCONIVEROUS - (chawk oh niv’ ur us): adj. The sadistic tendency, when eating a chocolate Easter bunny, to bite off the head first.

CHOCOZIPPER - (chok' oh zip ur): n. The paper tab that releases a Hershey's Kiss.

CHOCTASY -(chok' ta see): n. The joy of discovering a second layer of chocolates underneath the first.

CHRONESIA - (kron ee' zyuh): n. The tendency not to know the time when asked, even though you just checked your watch.

CHUBBLE - (chuh’ buhl): n. The aerobic movement combining deep-knee bends and sideward hops used when trying to fit into panty hose.

CHUFF - (chuhf): n. The line of grease you always find on your right trouser leg when demounting a bicycle.

CHWADS - (chwadz): n. The small disgusting wads of chewed gum commonly found beneath table and counter tops.

CIGADENT - (sig’ uh dent): n. Any accident involving a cigarette: for instance, when it sticks to your lips while your fingers slide off and get burned.

CINEDRAFT - (sin' uh draft): n. The mysterious rush of air that sucks your money into the tickey window at the movie theatre.

CINEMUCK - (sih’ neh muk): n. The combination of popcorn, soda and melted chocolate which covers the floors of movie theatres.

CINEMUTATION - (sin uh mew tay' shun): n. The liberal change in the storyline that occurs whenever a book is made into a movie.

CINEPEDS - (sin’ ih pedz): n. The feet that mysteriously appear over your shoulders when you’re trying to watch a movie.

CINEPLEGIC - (sih neh plee' jik): n. A person whose foot or leg has temporarily lost circulation from being wedged between theatre seats.

CINESLOUCH - (sih' nuh slowch): n. The defensive position one adopts preparatory to a shock scene in a horror movie.

CINETRAP - (sih' nuh trap): n. The inability to leave a movie theatre because your date insists upon watching the credits.

CINETWERP - (sin’ ih twurp): n. Any cinema employee who has the nerve to ask you for exact change because the tickets have been jacked up to $9.50.

CIRCLOCRYOGENIC THEORY - (sur kloh kry oh jen’ ik the’ oh ree): n. The hypothesis which states that no matter which way you turn a glass of ice water, the cubes will move to the back. (Further research has established that one piece of ice will always stick to the bottom of an empty glass until tapped, at which point it will come forward and smack the drinker on the end of the nose.)

CIRCULOIN TECHNIQUE - (sur’ kyu loyn tek neek’): n. The popular method of consuming steak in which one eats around the edges first, then works his way toward the middle

CIRCUMPOPULATE - (sur kum pahp’ yew layt): n. To finish off a popsicle “laterally” because the “frontal” approach causes one to gag..

CIRCUMVACULATE - (sur kum vak' yew layt): v. To remain stationary while vacuuming in a circle around oneself.

CLINGUINI - (kling gwee' nee): n. The one strand of pasta that remains stuck to the bottom of the pan as you're emptying it into the colander.

CLOBBERISM - (klahb’ ur iz uhm): n. Strange array of verbs used by sportscasters to explain the outcome of a game (e.g., “Lakers drowned the Nets, Bears clawed the Vikings”).

CLUMFERT - (klum’ furt): n. The invisible “extra step” at the top and bottom of a staircase that typically materializes when one is carrying a large bag of groceries or laundry basket.

COASTERNETS - (koh stur netz'): n. The ratchety sound heard during the initial ascent of a roller coaster before it crests and hysteria ensues.

COAXIOMS - (koh aks’ ee umz): n. When shopping for stereo equipment, the incoherent techno-jargon salesmen use (e.g., “dynamic audio range,” “frequency modulation”) that you nod along with and pretend to understand.

COEGGULANT - (koh eg’ yoo lent): n. The white things in a plate of scrambled eggs.

COINOPHONY - (koy' nah foh nee): n. Annoying pocket concerts conducted by people who like to jingle keys and change, often accompanied by a rocking motion.

COMBILOOPS - (kahm’ bih lewpz): n. The two or three unsuccessful passes before finally opening a combination lock.

COMEONDOWNS - (kum on downz'): n. Depression resulting from knowing all the answers to a game show while confined in your living room.

COMIMORPHISM - (koh mih morf’ ih zum): n. The act of cutting out comic strips and assigning real life names to the characters.

COMMON DENUMBINATOR - (kaw’ mun dih num’ ih nay tur): n. The point in a first date at which you realize that you have nothing in common with the person you’re seeing, and you begin plotting how to get out of it.

COMPIZZABLE - (kom peet’ zuh bul): adj. The capacity of a group of diners to actually agree upon toppings for a pizza (“Okay, no olives, but we’ve got to have mushrooms”).

CONAGRAPHS - (kohn’ ah grafs): n. The raised relief squares on an ice cream cone.

CONISMA - (kohn iz’ muh): n. The tendency of American drivers to obey and follow traffic cones, no matter where they lead.

CONSPICUSLAT - (kon spik yew’ slat): n. A strip in a set of venetian blinds that has a different slant than the others.

CONTINENTATOR - (kon’ tih nent ay tur): n. The guy at the map making company who gets to decide what color each state should be.

CORNICLE - (kor’ nih kuhl): n. The breaded “washer” left on the stick after eating a corndog.

CORNISECTION - (kor' nih sek shun): n. The systematic consumption of candy corn by sections, first biting off the white zone, then orange zone, then the yellow zone.

CORPUS NEGLECTI - (kor pus nuh glek' ty): n. The transformation of a former high-school athlete into a beer-bellied, middle-aged man.

COUNTERSAURUS - (kown tur sawr’ us): n. Any person who orders two slices of cheesecake and a Diet Coke.

COVERLICIOUS - (kuh vur lish' us): n. The warm feeling of waking up on a cold morning and discovering you have another 20 minutes to sleep.

THE CRANIAL STOMP - (the kray’ nee uhl stahmp): n. A somewhat primitive dance performed by youngsters trying to step on the heads of their own shadows.

CRAVAMETER - (kra' va mit tur): n. 3.72 inches, the proper distance between the ends of a tied necktie.

CRAYOLLIA - (kray oh’ lee yuh): n. The area on the refrigerator where kindergarten drawings are displayed.

CREDIDIOTS - (kred id’ ee utz): n. People who linger during the credits of a movie, as if they are going to recognize someone (“Look, honey, Ed Kremetski was the key grip”).

CREEDLES - (kree’ dulz): n. The colony of microscopic indentations on a golf ball.

CRETINGER - (kret' in jur): n. The toll-free number printed on credit cards that you're instructed to call when your credit card has been lost.

CRIMPLAP - (krim' plap): n. The short stroll taken when trying on a new pair of shoes, before deciding whether to buy them or not.

CRINKS - (krinks): n. Crevices and junctions where car wax gets in but doesn’t get out.

CRIPPLECREEPS - (krip' ul kreepz): n. People who forcibly insist upon trying out your crutches when you're injured.

CRITIGASM - (krit’ ih gaz uhm): n. Any gushing critical blurb given to a movie that guarantees the reviewer’s name will appear larger than any other’s in the movie ad.

CROOKLIGHT - (kruk' lyt): n. The one light you always leave on to discourage burglars.

CROONO EN FLAGRANTE - (krew' noh on fla grahn' tay): v. To be caught singing to the muzak when the secretary takes you off hold.

CRUMBDUNDANCY - (krum dun' dan see): n. The act of revacumming parts of your car for no reason other than to use up the remaining time on the coin-operated vacuum machine.

CRUMBPLUMB - (krum’ plum): v. To attack a cereal box in an attempt to retrieve the prize.

CRUMMOX - (krum’ oks): n. The cereal that gets caught between the inner lining and the side of the box. Also, the leftover amount at the bottom that is too little to constitute one bowl’s worth but too much to throw away.

CRUSTADJUSTER - (krus' ta jus tur): n. The "light-dark" knob on a toaster that makes you think you're in control.

CUBBAGE - (kuh' bij): n. Decorative ivy used to cover large walls, at Wrigley Field for example.

CUBELO - (kyew’ beh lo): n. The one cube left by the person too lazy to refill the ice tray.

CUBESTACLE - (kewb' stack ul: n. A person who, no matter where he stands, gets in the way of someone shooting pool.

CUFFLATCH - (kuf' lach): v. To grasp the edge of one's sleeve to keep it from slithering up the arm while pulling on a sweater or sport jacket.

CUMULASTICS - (kewm’ uhl as tiks): n. The collection of rubber bands on a person’s doorknob.

CURDUNDANCY - (kur dun' dan see): n. The big deal of opening and closing the theatre curtains between preview and feature in movie theatres, presumably to help justify the inflated ticket price. (Outmoded sniglet)

CURODDS - (kur' ohds): n. The adhesive bandages at the bottom of the box designed for extremely unusual injuries.

CUSHUP - (kush’ up): v. To sit down on a couch somehow causing the cushion next to you to rise.

DARF - (darf): n. The least attractive side of a Christmas tree that ends up facing the wall; also called TANNENBUM.

DASHBLAST - (dash’ blast): n. The head-splitting change in decibel levels experienced when a compact disc in a car is ejected and the radio comes on.

DASHO - (da’ shoh): n. The area between a car’s windshield and dashboard, where coins, pencils, etc., cannot be humanly retrieved.

DECIBILATION - (des ih buhl ay’ shun): n. The shock of having one’s headphones yanked from one’s ears by normally passive objects (such as elbows, coattails, watchband, doorknobs, etc.).

DEFRECIATE - (deh fre' shee ayt): v. While driving home from a fast-food restaurant, the act of stealing an equal amount of fries from each bag so that recipients will believe each simply received small portions.

DEJA VA - (day zha va'): n. The feeling, as you put sugar into your coffee, that you've already put sugar into your coffee.

DELTA VISTA - (del' tuh vis' tuh): n. The principle that states that, on any flight, the "spectacular view" the pilot is describing can only be seen through the opposite window.

DENNIDIOTS - (den id' ee uts): n. People who actually fill out those "How-was-the-service" exams on the backs of restaurant checks.

DENTOCRAM - (den toh kram’): v. To foolishly attempt to achieve a year’s worth of brushing and flossing an hour before your dental appointment.

DESTINESIA - (des tin ee' zha): n. The act of entering a room and forgetting why

DETERRENCY - (dee tur’ ren see): n. The ruined currency found in pants pockets after laundering.

DETRUNCUS - (dee trunk’ us): n. The embarrasing phenomenon of losing one’s bathing shorts while diving into a swimming pool..

DIAGONERD - (dy ag' oh nurd): n. Person who angles his car across two spaces to keep people from parking too close.

DIANKULAR - (dy ank’ yewl ar): adj. The “crossover” style of lacing athletic shoes. (See also: PERPIDANKULAR)

DIESELDIAPER - (dee zuhl dy’ pur): n. The big red flag hanging off the back of a lumber truck.

DIETRIBE - (dy’ uh tryb): n. All the “daily specials” you allow a waiter to rattle off even though you know precisely what you want.

DIGITRITUS - (dij ih tree’ tus): n. Deposits found between the links of a watchband.

DILLRELICT - (dil rel’ ikt): n. The last pickle in the jar that avoids all attempts at being captured.

DIMP - (dimp): n. A person who insults you in a cheap department store by asking “do you work here?”

DIPWAVERS - (dip’ way vurz): n. People who raise their hands when riding on roller coasters.

DIRTWAFFLES - (dir' twah fulz): n. Incriminating bits of preformed dirt that fall off the bottoms of tennis shoes onto clean floors.

DISASTASTACK - (diz as' ta stak): n. Any precariously balanced pyramid of cans or bottles blocking a grocery aisle.

DISCOMBEBOPULATE - (dis kom bee bahp yew’ layt): v. To turn down the car radio when you’re searching for a specific street, as if, somehow, this will help you locate it easier.

DISCONFECT - (dis kon fekt’): v. To sterilize a piece of candy that was dropped upon the ground by blowing on it, somehow assuming this will “remove” all the germs.

DISPATCH TRACK - (dis’ pach trak): n. The squiggly lines next to a postmark on a letter that resemble tire tread marks.

DOG GASKETS - (dawg gas’ kitz): n. The black stuff that collects around an elderly dog’s mouth.

DOGNUT - (dawg’nut): n. The giant nut on the side of a fire hydrant.

DOOR SLINKY - (dohr slin’ kee): n. The springy device attached to the back of a door that prevents the door from marring the wall.

DOORK - (dawrk): n. A person who always pushes on a door marked “pull” or vice versa.

DOWNPAUSE - (down’ pawz): n. The split second of dry weather experienced when driving under an overpass during a storm.

DREAMONIUM - (dree mon' ee yum): n. The metallic coating on a lottery ticket that seperates you from a million bucks a year for life.

DRIVERIE - (dry' vur eee): n. Any daydream experienced while driving that causes you to miss your turn.

DROOT - (drewt): n. A Dorito with an unnatural fold in it.

DRYLOWGRAPHS - (dry’ loh grafs): n. Strange, unintelligible symbols that accompany the washing instructions on clothing labels.

DRYPHOON - (dry foon’): n. The blast of hot air you always feel as you walk past a laundromat.

DUBLECTATE - (duh blek’ tayt): v. To misplace one’s eyeglasses and eventually discover them atop one’s head.

DUDNOBS - (dud' nobz) - n. The fake drawers beneath the sink that everyone attempts to pull open.

DUDOUT - (dud' owt): n. Condition of having consumed all of one's snack bar items before the movie has even begun.

DÜNKEN HÄCKEN - (dun' kin ha' kin): n. Violent coughing attack brought on by inhaling the powdered sugar on a doughnut.

EARTHCAKE EPICENTER - (urth’ kayk ehp’ ih sen tur): n. The buttery, syrup-laden heard of a stack of pancakes, the part you save until last.

EASTROTURF - (ee’ stroh turf): n. The artificial grass in Easter baskets.

ECNALUBMA - (ek nuh lub’ muh): n. A rescue vehicle which can only be seen in the rear-view mirror.

ECTOLACTO - (ek roh lak' toh): n. The curtain of milk that runs down the outside of the glass when you try to pour it into the cereal bowl.

EFAMATE - (ef' uh mayt): v. To eliminate a dangerous automobile noise by turning up the radio volume.

EGGORY - (eg' er ry): n. The diveted part of the refridgerator that holds the eggs.

EIFFELITES - (eye’ ful eyetz): n. Gangly people sitting in front of you at the movies who, no matter what direction you lean in, follow suit.

ELBONICS - (el bahn’ iks): n. The actions of two people maneuvering for one armrest in a movie theatre.

ELECELERATION - (el uh sel ur ay’ shun): n. The mistaken notion that the more you press an elevator button, the faster it will arrive.

ELEMENO - (LMNO): n. The centermost letter of the alphabet, the one that reduces it from twenty-six characters to twenty-three.

ELEVENCE - (el' uh vins): n. The silence that pervades a crowded elevator once the doors fully close.

ELEVERTIGO - (el uh vur’ tih goh): n. The sensation one experiences when an elevator stops or takes off too suddenly.

ELMERDERMIS - (el mur durm’ is): n. The white sheath that surrounds the nozzle of a glue dispenser.

EMENEMINIZE - (em en em' en ize): v. To consume one's M&M's according to color grouping.

ENAMELISMS - (ee nam uhl iz’ uhmz): n. Overly embellished named given to nail polish colors to distinguish them from others, such as “Mediterranean Sunset,” “Autumn Splendor,” or “Dusky Coral.”

ENVELOPTIC - (en vel op’ tik): n. Anyone who peers through the mail slot opening at the post office to see if the employees inside are screwing off.

EQUATT - (ee’ kwaht): v. Trying to balance the light switch in the exact middle of the wall plate, so that light is half on, half off.

ERDU - (ur’ doo): n. The leftover accumulation of rubber particles after erasing a mistake on a test paper.

ESCALASTICIZE - (esk uh last’ ih.syz): v. To lean against the rail of a moving escalator and have the sensation of being pulled in opposite directions.

ESCALOS - (es’ kah lohz): n. People who always end up taking the long way around from escalator to escalator when moving from floor to floor in shopping malls.

ESSOASSO - (es oh as' oh): n. A person who cuts through a service station to avoid a red traffic light.

ETCHACHACHA - (etch’ ah chah chah): n. The jerky movements made by one’s arms and hips when erasing an Etch-a-Sketch.

EUFIRSTICS - (yew fur’ stiks): n. Two people waiting on the phone for the other to hang up first.

EUFRAIN - (yoo frayn'): n. The amount of time (usually four words into the song) it takes a group of people singing "Happy Birthday" to reach a common key.

EUNEEBLIC - (yoo nee’ blik): n. A person who refuses to believe an “out of order” sign and risks his money anyway.

EXAMINISCIENCE - (eg zam' in is sy enz): n. The ability of the computer or testing official to somehow know if you've used anything but a number-two pencil.

EXASPIRIN - (eks as’ prin): n. Any bottle of pain relieve with an impossible-to-remove cotton wad at the top.

EXCESS BUNNERAGE - (eks' es bun' er aj): adj. When the buns at a cookout come in packs of eight and the hot dogs in sixes.

EXCESS WEINERAGE - (eks' es wee' nur aj): adj. When the buns come in packs of eight and the hot dogs in twelve. (See also FRANQUILIZED.

EXECUGLIDE - (eks ek’ yew glyd): v. To propel oneself about an office without getting up from the chair.

EX-O-VAC - (ex' oh vak): n. The third battery in a "buy-two-get-one-free" package that is useless unless you purchase a second package.

EXPRESSHOLES - (eks pres’ holz): n. People who try to sneak more than the “eight items or less” into the express checkout lane.

FACINE - (fay seen'): n. The amount of Visine or Murine that is dribbled onto the cheek, nose, forehead, etc., before successfully entering the eye.

FALOOTER - (fa lew' tur): n. The rope running through a menu that lets you know you're at a fancy restaurant.

FAMAMAGE - (fa mam’ ahj’): v. To eliminate any annoying engine noise by simply turning up the radio volume.

FANIACS - (fan' ee aks): n. People in the crowd at sporting events who have painted their faces and bodies in their team colors.

FARRELPHOBIA - (fayr el foh' bee yuh): n. The fear of being approached by several waiters singing "Happy Birthday".

FATFINETUNER - (fat' fyn toon' ur): n. The knob at the top of the bathroom scale that allows for a conscience-easing "margin of error".

FATLAS - (fat’ las): n. The weekly foo section crammed full of recipes, coupons and full-color dessert photos that make a newspaper noticeably heavier.

FEASERS - (fee' zurz): n. The racing stripes on athletic shoes that fool kids into thinking they can run faster.

FENDERBERG - (fen’ dur burg): n. The large glacial deposits that form on the insides of car fenders and wheel wells during snowstorms.

FERROLES - (fer’ ohlz): n. The holes in the bottom of a steam iron.

FETCHPLEX - fech’ pleks): n. The state of momentary confusion in a dog whose owner has faked throwing the ball and instead palmed it behind his back.

FICTATE - (fik’ tayt): v. To inform a television or screen character of impending danger under the assumption that they can hear you.

FIGFORCE - (fig' fawrs): n. The mysterious magnetic force that holds two or more Fig Newton cookies together.

FINNAGE - (fin’ ij): n. The act of watching your money being swallowed up as your groceries ride the conveyor belt at the supermarket.

FIRSSUE - (fur' shew): n. The lead tissue, the one that gets all the others going

FLANNISTER - (flan’ is tur): n. The plastic yoke that holds a six-pack of soda together.

FLARPSWITCH - (flarp’ swich): n. The one light switch in every house with no function whatsoever..

FLEABAGE - (flee' baj): n. Excess of flea collar that has to be cut off.

FLEN - (flen): n. The black crusty residue that accumulates on the necks of old ketchup bottles.

FLEPTIC - flep’ tik: adj. The tendency of soup and dog food lids to slip into the can upon opening.

FLIRR - (flur): n. A photograph that features the the camera operator’s finger in the corner.

FLIMPS - (flimps): n. People (usually observed in waiting rooms) who have advanced the Evelyn Wood technique to the point where they can flip through a magazine without ever looking down from the clock.

FLINTSTEP - (flint’ step): v. To wind up one’s feet before running away in fear. Common among cartoon characters.

FLOLES - (flolz): n. The extra (fourth and fifth) holes in notebook paper, presumably created in the hopes that one day mankind will perfect a “five ring binder.”

FLOPCORN - (flop’ korn): n. The unpopped kernels at the bottom of the cooker or bag.

FLOTION - (flo’ shun): n. The tendency, when sharing a waterbed, to undulate for five minutes every time the other person moves.

FLOTTA FACTOR - (flah’ tuh fak’ tur): n. The proven scientific fact that at a self-service pump, the last ten cents of gasoline take longer to reach the tank than the first nineteen dollars worth.

FLOUND - (flownd): v. To use one's free arm for balance while lugging a heavy gas can or suitcase.

FLOURESE - (flor’ eez): n. The language that you speak while your teeth are being cleaned, discernible only by your dentist.

FLOWFRIGHT - [I](flo’ frite)[/.I]: n. The desperate attempt by a homeowner to “talk” his overflowing toilet into backing down.

FLUGGLING - (flug’ ul ing): v. The dangerous practice, in a darkened room, of using one’s finger to guide the end of an electrical plug into a wall socket.

FLURRANT - (flur’ uhnt): n. The one leaf that always clings to the end of the rake.

FLUTCH - (flutch): n. The jerk one's body makes when one thinks one has lost his/her wallet.

FODS - (fahdz): n. Couples at amusement parks who wear identical t-shirts, presumably to keep from getting lost.

FOODGITIVES - (food' juh tivz): n. The individual vegetables in a microwaveable dinner tray that escape over the wall and into the Salisbury Steak Zone.

FOOFUMBLERS - (few’ fum blurz): n. Chopstick nonparticipants at Chinese restaurants.

FOOMLET - (foom' lit): n. The bathroom towel you're not allowed to use because it's designated for guests and guests don't use because who wants to be the first person to mess it up?

FOOPERS - (foo' perz): n. Passers-by a restaurant windows who stop to watch you eat.

FORKORRAL - (for' kor al): n. The plastic tray used to organize and seperate silverware.

FOYS - (foyz): n. Missing pieces of a jigsaw puzzle that you later find stuck to the underside of your arm.

FRANCIS SCOTT KEYS - (fran' sis skaht keez'): n. The notes of the "Star-Spangled Banner" that only trained opera singers are able to reach.

FRANKFLUID - (fraynk flew’ id): n. The liquid at the bottom of hot dog packages.

FRANQUILIZED - (frank' wil ized): adj. When, by some miracle, you have an equal number of buns and weiners at a cookout.

FRAZNIT - (frahz’ nit): n. Any string hanging from an article of clothing which, when pulled, causes the article to completely unravel.

FRIGIDALIEN - (frij id ay’ lee un): n. Any nonfood object (batteries, camera film, etc.) kept in the refrigerator to prolong its freshness.

FRINGE RELATIVE - (frinj rel' uh tiv): n. Any relative who appears in a smaller photo stuck into the corner of a picture frame (i.e., a relative who is not important enough to appear in his/her own frame.)

FROOG - (frewg): n. The crushing regret associated with purchasing an item, then, one day later, finding the same item for sale elsewhere at a significantly lower price.

FRUST - (frust): n. The small line of debris that refuses to be swept into the dust pan and keeps backing a person across the room until he finally decides to “cheat” and sweep the debris under the rug.

FRUSTRA - (frus’ truh): n. The special plastic used in the manufacture of fast-food ketchup packets.

F-SHOCK - (ef' shok): n. The discovery, after having a flash photograph taken of yourself, that you are albino.

FURBLING - (fur’ bling): v. Having to wander through a maze of ropes at an airport or bank even though you are the only person in line.

FUFFLE - (fuh’ ful): v. To assume, when dining out, that you are making things easier on the waitress by using the phrase “when you get the chance. . .”.

FURBULA - fur’ byew luh): n. The designated chewing area on a dog’s back.

FURNACULARS - (fur nak' yoo lurz): n. The nocturnal sounds made by furnaces that convince you burglars are downstairs.

FURNIDENTS - (fur’ nih dents): n. The indentations that appear in carpets after a piece of furniture has been removed.

FURPLAY - (fur’ play): n. The semi-illicit feeling you get when a cat rubs against your leg.

FURTERUS ZONE - (fur tur’ us zohn): n. The empty stretches of bun on either end of a hot dog.

FUTILITY INFIELDER - (few til' ih tee in' feel dur): n. One who tries to stop grounders by throwing his glove at them.

FUZZBUZZ - (fuz' buz): n. The overwhelming urge that forces otherwise sensible people to "thank" police officers for traffic tickets.

GANGLOOT - (gan’ glewt): n. A person who leaves all his ski passes on his jacket just to impress people.

GAPIANA - (ga pee ah’ nah): n. The unclaimed strip of land between the “you are now leaving” and “welcome to” signs when crossing state lines.

GARBPACTION - (garb pak' shun): v. The act of cramming just one more item into a garbage can to avoid emptying it.

GARMITES - (gar’ mytz): n. Those items of clothing that fit perfectly at the store but somehow shrink on the way home.

GASTIDIOUS - (gas tid’ ee yus): adj. The deft manner in which one removes a gas cap so as not to get any fuel on one’s hands.

GAZINTA - (gah zin’ tuh): n. Mathematical symbol for division; also the sound uttered when dividing out loud (e.g. “Four gazinta eight twice.”).

GAZOONTING - (guh zewn’ ting): v. Using one’s nose to fold back the pages of a newspaper while one’s hands are occupied elsewhere.

GAZUREALISM - (gayz’ ur eel ih zuhm): n. The feeling, while at a museum or gallery, that the eyes on a portrait are staring directly at you no matter where you happen to be standing.

GENDERPLEX - (jen’ dur pleks): n. The predicament of a person in a themed amusement park or restaurant who is unable to determine his or her designated bathroom (e.g., turtles and tortoises).

GEEZLEFLEW - (gee zuhl’ flew): n. Any obtuse object (e.g., hubcap, license plate, traffic cone, etc.) attached to a service station restroom key designed to prevent users from stealing it.

GENTREA - (jen' tree uh): n. The small area of the windshield beneath the steering wheel used by elderly drivers.

GEOUCH - (jee' owch): n. The sharp rock one always finds directly beneath his sleeping bag.

GERTATIOUS - (gur tay’ shus): adj. Having the adolescent fear that hanging one’s arm over the bed at night will mean being dragged under.

GESUNDTIME - (guh zoon' tym): n. That agonizing moment between the detection of an imminent sneeze and its actual execution.

GIBBLE - (jih’ buhl): n. The sliding keyhole cover on a car trunk.

GIBLUMP - (gib' lump): n. The foil-wrapped turkey that sits in the refrigerator after Thanksgiving because nobody even wants to think about turkey for several days.

GIMMIENNIUM - (gih mee' en ee um): n. The amount of time one lets pass when attempting to be the "eighth lucky caller", "third lucky caller", etc.

GIMPLEXUS - (gim plek’ sis): n. The rear area of the thighs which must be peeled from the car seat on hot summer days.

GIXLET - (giks’ lit): n. Any gift purchased for a forgotten relative at 10:57 P.M. on Christmas Eve with five dollars remaining in your budget.

GIZZLEDIPPLERS - (gih’ zul dip lurz): n. Those annoying waving hands seen on the backs of Winnebagos, placed there by people too lazy to be friendly on their own.

GLACIAPHOBIA - (glay see uh foh bee’ uh): n. Wintertime fear that the smiling child on the curbside is holding a snowball with your name on it.

GLACKETT - (glak’ it): n. The noisy ball inside a can of spray paint.

GLADHANDLING - (glad’ hand ling: v. To attempt, with frustrating results, to find and separate the ends of a plastic sandwich or trash bag.

GLAMP - (glamp): n. The telescopic device used to retrieve golf balls from ponds.

GLANTICS - (glan’ tiks): n. Two people, who, while making out, open their eyes at the same time to see if the other is looking.

GLARPO - (glar’ poh): n. The juncture of the ear and skull where pencils are stored.

GLEEDEBRIS - (glee' deh bree): n. The pile of torn wrapping paper and ribbon left after all the gifts have been opened.

GLEEMITES - glee’ mytz): n. Petrified deposits of toothpaste that accumulate in bathroom sinks.

GLEEMULE - (gleem’ yool): n. One unit of toothpaste, measured from bristle to bristle.

GLISSER - (glis' sur): n. The plastic wand used to inflate and launch soap bubbles.

GLOOB - (gloob): n. Air bag created in the front of one's trunks by entering a swimming pool too rapidly.

GLOOPIUM - (gloo' pee um): n. The area at the bottom of the parfait glass that the spoon cannot quite reach.

GLOVOCITY - (gluh vos' ih tee): n. The maximum increase in speed achieved by throwing aside one's baseball mitt while in pursuit of the ball.

GLUBBULE - (glub' yool): n. The eerie, yet mesmerizing, announcement, appearance and acension of the bubble in a water cooler.

GLUTE - (glewt): v. To shake a sugar packet vigorously so as to move the contents to the bottom before tearing open.

GLUTETIC CHAIR - (gloo tet’ ik chayr): n. A twentieth-century design of chair, found often in movie theatres whose main feature is its ability to keep folding up underneath a person as he tries to force it down with his rear.

GNARMBLUM - (narm’ blum): n. The dry wrinkly area at th end of the elbow.

GOOFYTTI - (goo fee' tee): n. Scribblings on the walls at Disney World which suggest that it's not quite "The Happiest Place on Earth".

GOBBLEMENTS - (gob' luh mentz): n. Those decorative miniature chef hats placed on the ends of turkey drumsticks.

GOLFLUORESCENCE - (gawl flohr’ es ens): n. The incredibly phosphorescent clothing style observed on golf courses, adopted by men who otherwise dress rationally.

GOOPWASTE - (gewp’ wayst): v. To smear excess hand lotion on other parts of your body even though they didn’t actually need it.

GRACKLES - (grak’ ulz): n. The wrinkles that appear on the body after staying in the water too long.

GRANTNAP - (grant’ nap): n. The extra five minutes of sleep you allow yourself that somehow makes all the difference in the world.

GREAT WALL OF CHINOS - (grayt wahl uhv chee’ nohs): n. The condition of having shoved a hand into one’s jeans only to discover that the pocket is jammed up.

GREEDLING - (greed’ ling): v. Pretending to read the inscription on the birthday card when you really just want to know how much the check is for.

GREELITE - (gree’ lyt): n. The eerie glow that emanates from beneath escalator steps.

GREEPERS - (greep' ers): n. People who walk up the down escalators in an attempt to appear motionless.

GRIDLOTT - (grid’ laht): n. The congestion created in checkout lines in small convenience or liquor stores, created by some jerk cashing in a one-dollar lottery ticket.

GRINION - (grin’ yun): n. The unsightly indentation in the middle of a belt after it has been worn too long.

GRINTIGER - (grin’ tih jur): n. The numbered code on the back of a greeting card that, when deciphered, reveals the price.

GRIPTION - (grip’ shun): n. The sound of sneakers squeaking against the floor during basketball games.

GRISKNOB - [I](gris’ nahb)[/b]: n. The end of a chicken drumstick which always gives the appearance of having more chicken on it.

GROCESSES - (groh' ses iz): n. The wasted area of grocery shelf space caused by round cans only being able to meet at their circumferences.

GROMAXES - (grohm’ aks iz): n. The inside area of the knees used to grip the steering wheel when holding a road map.

GUFFAWNIX - (guh fahw' niks): n. Uproarious laughter which must be squelched immediately due to its inappropriateness at the time, e.g., in the classroom, at a business meeting, in church, etc.

GUMIPLAST - (guhm’ ee plast): n. Any pair of fused-together or “siamese” gummy bears.

GUMMERATOR - (gum’ uhr ay tur): n. The pointed rubber object on the end of some toothbrushes.

GUNKOLEUM - (gun koh' lee yum): n. The horrible black paste that car manufacturers smear underneath car seats.

GURMLISH - (gurm’ lish): n. The red warning flag at the top of a club sandwich toothpick that prevents the person from biting into it and puncturing the roof of his mouth.

GUPTOPIA - (gup’ toh pee yuh): n. The phony decor in an aquarium designed to fool fish into thinking they’re living in an underwater paradise.

GYMBOLS - (jim' bolz): n. Those lines and markings on a gym floor that have no intelligible purpose whatsoever.

GYROPED - (jy’ roh ped): n. A child who cannot resist spinning around on a diner stool.

HACULA - (hak’ yew luh): n. The last few inches of tape measure or lawn mower cord that refuse to rewind automatically.

HALASKA - (ha las' kuh): n. The boxed area on a U.S. map where our 49th and 50th states are located.

HALVENT - (hav’ ent): n. The style of automobile window that only rolls down halfway.

HAMNESIA - (ham nee' zhuh): n. The convenient gap in one's memory that allows one to forget a diet and instead pig out on goodies.

HANGLE - (hayn’ guhl): n. A cluster of coat hangers.

HANNAH-OBSCURA - hah' nuh ob skur' uh): n. Any unintelligible line in a popular cartoon theme song (e.g., in the Flintstones: "...through the courtesy of Fred's big feet").

HASBROGANY - (haz brog' uh nee): n. The crime of allowing a child who does not meet the "age and up" requirement to participate in a board game.

HEADWEASELS - (hed’ wee zuhls): n. Snooty, pompous, overbearing maitre d’s who address you in the third person: “How many are we tonight?”

HEISTENATION - (hyst’ eh nay shun): n. The sudden inviting notion acquired when seeing an open safe or bank vault that suggests maybe, just maybe, you could get away with it.

HELICRATE - (hel' ih krayt): n. Any mobile home in a tornado-prone area. (See also: MOBICIDE.)

HEMOPLUGS - (hee' moh plugz): n. Small pieces of toilet paper applied to shaving wounds.

HEMPENNANT - (hem’ pen ent: n. Any coattail, cuff, or dress hem dangling outside the door of a moving vehicle.

HICCUMUMBO - (hik uh mum' boh): n. Any preposterous ritual to which otherwise sensible, God-fearing people will resort in order to alleviate hiccups (e.g., salt-tossing, cemetary visitations, incantations, etc.).

HIGHYIMES - (hi' yimes): n. Those 1-800 number operators who threaten to return at the end of the magazine subscription commercial to "tell you how to receive your free gift."

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Sep 5, 2008 - 06:38 PM
Complete Sniglet Compendium Pt. 2
HOLEYMOLEY - (hoh lee moh' lee): n. The tiny hole in your pocket that inevitably grows larger on a diet of coins and keys.

HOOPTOOTS - (hoop' tootz): n. Strange bugle sounds at basketball and hockey games, the source of which no one seems able to identify.

HOPNO - (hohp’ noh): n. The emergency repair of a hem with staples that you sincerely pray nobody will notice.

HOROSCOPIA - (hohr’ oh skoh pee yuh): n. The lingo or advice in a horoscope that can be applied to any person, anywhere, in any circumstance, ever.

H2OT - (aych too aht'): n. The heated water that comes out of a garden hose after it has sat in the sun all day.

HOUNDWOUNDING - (hownd’ wown ding): v. The act of a dog circling a spot three or four times before settling upon it.

HOUSE CHANGE - (haus' chaynj): n. Unclaimed coins that can always be found beneath couch cushions and reclining armchairs.

HOWUZITIZE - (hau wuz' it ize): n. To scan the faces of exiting moviegoers in an attempt to determine the quality of the film.

HOZONE - (ho’ zohn): n. The mysterious dimension to where one sock in every laundry load disappears.

HUDNUT - (hud’ nut: n. The bolt left over when one has finished reassembling a bicycle or car engine.

HUMOMENTUM - (hu moh men' tum): n. Precious extra feet in an out-of-gas car gained by urgently thrusting one's body forward.

HYDRALATION - (hy druh lay’ shun): v. Acclimating oneself to a cold swimming pool by bodily regions: toe-to-knee, knee-to-waist, waist-to-elbow, elbow-to-neck.

HYPOCRITULATION - (hip oh krit yew lay' shun): n. The seemingly joyous reaction of the runners-up as they surround the winner at a beauty pageant.

HYSTIOBLOGINATION - (his’ tee oh blahg in ay’ shun): v. The act of trying to identify a gift by holding it to your ear and shaking it.

ICISION - (ih sih’ zhun): n. Delicate operation performed on Neopolitan flavored ice cream in which one entire flavor is precisely and systematically removed.

IDIOLOCATION - (id' ee oh low kay' shun): n. The spot on the shopping mall map marked "you are here."

IDIOT BOX - (id’ ee uht bahks): n. The part of the envelope that tells a person where to place the stamp just in case they can’t quite figure it out for themselves.

IDPRESSION - (id preh’ shun): n. The sudden attempt to stifle one’s laughter upon viewing the photograph on another person’s driver’s license.

IGNISECOND - (ig’ nih sek und): n. The overlapping moment of time when the hand is locking the car door even as the brain is screaming “my keys are in there!”

ILLUMINOT - (il ew' mih nawt): n. The device in airplane bathrooms that won't let the light come on until you lock the door.

IMPASSENGERS - (im pas enj urz): n. Two people, one inside the car, one outside, negating each other's actions while trying to unlock the door.

INADEQUILL - (in ad' uh kwil): n. The feeling one gets when not answering a personal letter promptly.

INCOMEPOOP - (in’ kum pewp): n. The smell on a cashier’s fingers from handling money all day.

INCONSMUTULOUS - (in kahn smut’ yew lus): adj. Buying extraneous magazines to help camouflage a copy of Playboy or Penthouse.

INCUISINATORS - (in kwiz ih nay’ turz): n. People at adjoining restaurant tables who seem far more interesting in your food than their own.

INDIGESTURES - (in dih jest’ jurz): n. The half-hearted protestations you feel required to offer when someone else is picking up the check.

INDYSECOND - (in' dee sek und): n. The moment of hesitation you have just before gunning your car and running the yellow light. (See also: ACCELOYELLOS.)

INELVITABLE - (in el' vih tuh bul): adj. The uncanny ability of a band in old Elvis movies to materialize from nowhere whenever Elvis begins to sing.

INKFLAMATION - (ink fla may’ shun): n. The point at which the ballpoint pen you’re chewing on begins to taste peculiar, causing you to suspect that your face and mouth have been blackened with ink.

INKNITION - (ink nih' shun): n. The metal clicker at the top of a cheap ball point pen that: a) puts it into operation and b) is also perfect for driving substitute teachers crazy.

INKSLICK - (ink’ slik): n. A greasy spot on a piece of stationery or test paper.

INNINGFRINGEMENT - (in ning frinj' ment): n. The warning near the end of a baseball broadcast that warns listeners against starting their own station and "rebroadcasting the accounts and descriptions of this game."

INTUNATIVE - (in tewn’ uh tiv): adj. The condition of mentally hearing a song begin on an album or the radio mere seconds before it plays.

INTUXICATION - (in tuks ih kay’ shun: n. The confusion as to whether the ribbed openings on a cummerbund are supposed to face up or down.

INVISIVOIDANCE - (in viz uh voy' dans): n. The ability to disappear in order to avoid saying hello to someone.

IRANT - (eye’ rant): n. A seamless pistachio nut; a pistachio nut afraid to come out in public.

JACKSTOP - (jak' stahp): n. The stop you make fifteen feet from the pickup window to make sure your order is all there and to make adjustments (straw through drink, etc.) for simultaneous eating and driving.

JAVAJETSAM - (ja va jet' sum): n. Washed ashore coffee grounds on the rim of the cup.

JAVA-VU - (jah’ vah vew): n. Phenomenon of constantly adjusting the sugar/cream level of your coffee to your liking, only to have a waitress come along and ruin it again.

JEMIMITES - (je my' myts): n. Extremely tiny pancakes formed from the batter that fell off the ladle.

JETSCHPIEL - (jeht’ shpeel): n. The enthusiastic “safety speech” given by flight attendants that 95% of flyers thoroughly ignore.

JIFFYLUST - (ji’ fee lust): n. The inability to be the first person to carve into a brand-new beautiful jar of peanut butter.

JOES OF ARC - (johz’ uhv ark): n. Tiny drops of coffee that die on the burner after the pot is removed.

JOHN HANCROCK - (jahn han’ krahk): n. A signature, usually found on diplomas and corporate checks, that has been unceremoniously stamped there as opposed to handwritten.

JUJUSPECTION - (joo' joo spek shun): v. To hold a jujube up to the cinema screen in order to determine its color.

JUKEJITTERS - (jook’ jih turz): n. The fear that everyone thinks you picked the awful tune emanating from the jukebox when it was actually the person before you.

KATPRANO - (kat prah' noh): n. The high voice one uses when summoning a cat.

KAWASHOCK - (kah wah shahk’): n. The act of pulling into the last remaining parking space only to discover a motorcycle there.

KEDOPHOBIA - (ked oh fo’ bee uh): n. The fear of having one’s shoes “eaten” by the teeth on the escalator.

KEYFRUIT - (kee’ froot): n. The one apple, pear or tomato in the stand that, when removed, causes all the others to tumble forward.

KEYLONIUS - (kee loan' ee us): adj. The slight trace of criminality one feels when having his keys duplicated.

KIDFUSION - (kid few' zhun): n. The state wherein a parent stumbles over the names of all her children before calling the proper one, i.e., "Matt, Ruth, Ken, Edward, Tina, BOB, get over here!"

KIRKWALK - (kir' kwok): v. When hiking through snow, using the footsteps of one who has boldly gone before you.

KLEPTORCEPTORS - (klep' tor sep torz): n. The two-foot long (security overkill) plastic device encasing cassette tapes at a music store.

KNIMPEL - (nim’ pul): n. The missing last piece of a jigsaw puzzle.

KNUCK - (nuk): n. Ice cream collected on the back of the hand when scraping the last portions from the container.

KNUCKLECHEESE - (nuk' uhl cheez): n. Shreds of skin lost when grating cheese.

KRASHTONITE - (krash’ tuhn ite): n. The indestructible material from which the airplane’s “black box” is designed, which prompts the question, “why isn’t the rest of the plane made from this stuff?”

KROGLING - (kroh’ gling): v. The nibbling of small items of fruit and produce at the supermarket, which the customer considers “free sampling” and the owner considers “shoplifting.”

LACTOMANGULATION - (lak’ toh mayn gyoo lay’ shun): v. Manhandling the “open here” spout on a milk carton so badly that one has to resort to using the “illegal” side.

LACTO-OSTEOKIBLETIC - (lak' toh os' tee oh kih bleh' tik): adj. The secret urge to taste Milk Bones or dog food just to get an idea of what your dog has to look forward to for the rest of his life.

LACTOSPANSION - (lak toh span' shun): n. Phenomenon that causes any amount of spilled milk to produce three times its original volume upon impact.

LAMINITES - (lam’ in itz): n. Those strange people who show up in the photo sections of brand-new wallets.

LARF - (larf): v. To lick and retain a fork for dessert.

LARSENTIOUS - (lar sen’ tee us): adj. Consulting the comics page before addressing any other section of the newspaper.

LAVORTEX - lav’ ohr teks): n. Megasuction force of airplane toilets that banishes the slightest piece of toilet paper deep into the bowels of the plane’s interior.

LEBBETTS - (leh’ betz): n. The “heels” of a loaf of bread that are passed over in the belief that the slices in the middle are “fresher”.

LEXICAVES - (leks' ih kayvz): n. Indentations on the side of a dictionary.

LEXPLEXED - (leks' plekst): adj. Being unable to find the correct spelling for a word in the dictionary because you don't know how to spell it.

LIGS - (ligz): n. The two small metal tabs that hold an Ace bandage in place.

LIMALOPE - (ly’ muh lohp): n. The disgusting foreskin on a lima bean.

LINENARCTICA - (lin en ark' tik uh): n. The corner of the bed that is impossible to reach when putting on new sheets.

LINENEE - (lih nen nee’): n. The member of a two-person folding team at the laundromat who takes the sheet and completes the fold.

LINGERUISTICS - (ling’ gur ew is tiks): n. The phenomenon of staring at a word so long that it begins to appear misspelled and eventually loses all coherent meaning whatsoever.

LIPPLE - (lih’ puhl): n. The excess balm that collects around the outside of the Chapstick cap after it’s been resealed.

LINTHLYPTUS - (lin tu lip' tus): n. Any cough drop found in one's pocket or purse after a long period of time.

LITMUSLOAD - (lit' mus lode): n. Any washload that comes out the color of the one item that faded.

LOBSTERINE - (lahb’ stur een): n. The green stuff that oozes from the center of the lobster.

LOCKOBLANKO - (lok' oh blayn' koh): n. The trauma of returning to school following Christmas vacation and being unable to remember one's locker combination.

LODGECOMBING - (loj’ koh ming): n. The final reconnaissance before vacating a motel room.

LOGGIUM - (lawg’ ee yum): n. Excess water that drips from one’s nose hours after swimming.

LOISANBOBS - (loh' is an bahbz): n. Christmas cards signed in first names only, giving you absolutely no idea who these people are.

LOOBLAZE - (lew’ blayz): n. The blinding glare experienced when turning on the bathroom lights at 3 A.M.

LOOMLIES - (lewm’ leez): n. Jockey shorts that have lost their elasticity.

LOONIEBABBLING - (loo' nee bab ling): v. The act of inhaling the contents of a helium balloon in an attempt to talk like a member of Alvin and the Chipmunks.

LOOTCHUTE - (loot' shoot): n. The vacuum tube used in drive-through banks to move money back and forth to customers.

LORP - (lawrp): n. The part of the shoe that collapses when you try to pull it on without a shoehorn.

LOSERLITTER - (lew zur lih’ tur): n. The paper accumulations found on the ground at racetracks and betting parlors.

LOTSHOCK - (laht’ shahk): n. The act of parking your car, walking away, and watching it roll past you.

LOUISPRIMADONNA - (lew ee pree’ ma dahn ah): n. The snobbish manner in which a woman always carries about a Louis Vuitton purse for all to behold.

LUB - (lub): n. The small deposit of spinach or otherwise garish food substance that lodges itself between one’s teeth.

LUMILUMP - (loo' mih lump): n. The buildup of moviegoers at the top of the cinema aisle waiting for a light scene to appear on the screen so they can see the seats.

MAGGIT - (mayg’ it): n. Any of the hundreds of subscription cards that fall from the pages of a magazine (pl. MAGGREGATE).

MAGLERK - (mag' lurk): n. The ingenious wedge made in a coffee lid to facilitate safe consumption while driving.

MAGNACARTIC - (mag nuh’ kar tik): adj. The property of an automobile, when left unattended, to attract every shopping cart within the vicinity.

MAGNAGRAM - (mayg’ nuh gram): n. Any sign that takes on a new meaning when a magnetic letter falls off.

MAGNIPHOBIA - (mayg nih fo’ bee yuh): n. The fear that the object in the side mirror is much much closer than it appears.

MALIBUGALOO - (mayl ih bew’ guh lew): n. A dance that affects barefoot beachgoers on hot summer days.

MALLCONTENTS - (mawl’ kon tentz): n. The collection of bored, ticked-off husbands always seen sitting on benches in the middles of shopping malls.

MALLWALTZIST - (mahl wahlt' zist: n. The person hired to demonstrate organs and keyboards in shopping malls.

MALTIAN - (mawl’ shun): n. The vaguely humanlike creature in a diner, with concave cheeks, bulging forehead veins and a clearly outlined skull, who is sucking on an overly thick milkshake.

MALTIGO - (mahl' tih go): n. The temporary state of confusion experienced upon exiting a store in a mall and not remembering by which direction one entered.

MAJURY - (mah' ju ree): n. Blatant lies and illogic that mothers use to discourage "dangerous" behaviors among children (i.e., "What if your face freezes like that?").

MANGLAZETTE - (mayng luh zet’): n. The newspaper at the top of the stack that everyone passes over, believing the ones beneath it have better or fresher news.

MANILLIUM - (mah nil’ ee yum): n. The lifespan of the clasp on a manila envelope before it breaks off and dies.

MANUMULCHING - (man' yew mul ching): v. Transporting leaves by sandwiching them between one hand and the rake.

MARGRANE - (mar' grayn): n. The blinding pain incurred from drinking Margarita slush too quickly.

MARKAHOLIC WARD - (mark’ ah hawl ik wohrd): n. The place in your desk where you send dried-out felt tip pens to recover.

MARMAL - (mar' mul): n. The bits of orange peel suspended in marmalade.

MARP - (marp): n. The impossible-to-find beginning of a roll of cellophane tape.

MATRIHISS - (mat' rih his): n. The tiny amount of air that always escapes before sealing off an air mattress.

MATRIPHOBIA - (mat rih foh’ bee uh): n. Noticeable distance that single men keep from the women who just caught the bouquet at a wedding.

MATTRESCOTTING - (mat’ res kot ting): n. The pattern of grey and white lines on an institutional mattress.

MAWLK - (mawlk): n. The one deflated or "factory irregular" malted milk ball in every box.

MAYBELO - (may’ bel oh): n. The shape a woman makes with her mouth when applying makeup.

MAYPOP - (may’ pahp): n. A bald tire.

MAYTAG MASSAGE - (may' tag muh sahj'): n. The momentary thrill experienced while sitting on a washer as it launches into the spin cycle.

McMAGNAMAT - (mik mag' nuh mat): n. The paper place mat on the McDonald's tray that adheres, no matter how much you try to shake into the trash receptacle.

McMONIA - (mik mohn’ ee yuh): n. The noxious gas created by a fast-food employee mopping beneath your table while you’re eating.

McNERTIA - (mak nur' sha): n. Malaise that prevents a McDonald's employee from filling your order too quickly, or too correctly.

MEDIPEEP - (meh' dee peep): v. To surrender to temptation and look inside a host's bathroom cabinet to see from what kind of afflictions he or she suffers.

MEGANEGABAR - (meg uh neg' uh bar): n. The line you draw across the "amount" section of a check to prevent people from adding "and a million dollars."

MELBLANGUAGE - (mel blayng’ wij): n. The uproarious conversation baby boomers engage in when discussing their favorite cartoons.

MELON-DIXON LINE - (mel' un diks' un lyn): n. The point of the watermelon you do not eat below because someone once told you it causes stomachaches.

MEMNANTS - (mem’ nentz): n. The chipped or broken M&Ms at the bottom of the bag.

MEMOMIMICRY - (mem oh mim' ih kree): n. The brief pause in a conversation where you pretend to be getting a pencil to write down an important message.

MEMOSPHERE - (meh' mo sfeer): n. The part of the sky one searches when trying to recall something in the past.

MENUGE - (men' you zhe): n. The person among a tableful of diners silently elected to hand all the menus back to the waitress.

MEOUCH - (mee’ owch): n. The part of a cat’s neck that you’re allowed to safely grab and lift (although the cat never appears to be convinced of this).

MERFERATOR - (mur’ fur ay tur): n. The cardboard core in a roll of toilet tissue.

MERLIN’S SUDS - (mur’ linz sudz): n. The mysterious force that allows a wet glass or dish astoundingly travel across a counter top seemingly by its own motivation.

MERTON EFFECT - (mur' tun ef fekt'): n. The theory that if you are in a fast-moving elevator and you jump up, you will never touch the floor again.

MESOGROOVIC - (mez’ oh grew vik): adj. Type of people who enter onto a dance floor already in motion.

METHYLPHOBIA - (meth il foh’ bee yuh): n. The fear that you are going to have to pay for the once cent you over-pumped at the service station.

MIASMA VICE - (my’ az muh vys): n. The background smoke used in film scenes to create a mood of impending danger.

MICROTREK - (my’ kroh trek): n. Any nervous trip to the microwave oven to make sure the house and/or the kitchen hasn’t incinerated.

MICROTS - (my’ krotz): n. The two thumbnail-sized pieces you end up with when trying to remove a paper towel from the dispenser in a public restroom.

MILD CORNARY - (myld kohrn’ ayr ee): n. Any adverse reaction to the price of movie theater popcorn.

MIMOIDS - (mim’ oydz): n. People who are curiously entranced by the scent of freshly photocopied papers.

MINIBLURB - (mih' nee blerb): n. That useless scrap of information about the author found on the back of a book.

MINNIE PEARL VISION - (mih' nee perl' vizh' un): n. The act of trying to envision how a pair of drugstore sunglasses will look on you without the huge tag dangling from them.

MINUTATER - (min' u tay tur): n. The smallest french fry in the bag. (See also POTENTATER.)

MIRRORABILIA - (mih rawr’ uh beel ee yuh): n. The useless junk (air fresheners, fuzzy dice, mortarboard tassels, etc.) hanging from any given rearview mirror.

MIRRORCIDE - (mi' rawr side): n. Leading cause of death among finches and parakeets.

MISCORDANCE - (mis kawr’ dans): n. The principle that states: when reaching for drape cords, you will always tug on the wrong one first, practically tearing down the whole contraption.

MISSPITS - (mis' spitz): n. Albino watermelon seeds.

MITTSQUINTER - (mit’ skwint ur): n. A ballplayer who looks into his glove after missing the ball, as if, somehow, the cause of the error lies there.

MOBICIDE - (moh' bih syd): n. The stupefying principle that states the most tornado-prone areas attract the highest concentration of mobile homes. (See also: HELICRATE.)

MODADS - (moh’ dadz): n. All the free stuff (shampoo, moisturizer, sewing kits, etc.) one feels compelled to take when checking out of a motel (under the assumption that the next place you stay will be a real dump). (HODADS - Modads of higher quality found in hotels.)

MODOWN - (moh' down): n. The final phase of lawn cutting, the point at which one stops moving in a systematic up and down pattern and begin mowing in a haphazard angular pattern.

MOFFLIES - (maw’ flyz): n. Geezers who materialize at construction sites and feel compelled to point out that whatever it is you’re doing . . . you’re doing it wrong.

MOLOTOV CARTAIL - (mah' lah tav kar' tayl): n. Any service station towel used in place of a gas cap.

MOMETER - (ma' mee tur): n. The back part of a mother's hand that, when placed to a child's forehead, "knows" if the kid is running a fever or not.

MOMMENOIA - (mom muh noy' ah): n. The fear that the dentist or doctor will barge in and catch you playing with his equipment.

MONOPUTZ - (ma' noh putz): n. The one person during every game of Monopoly who feels compelled to point out how awesome it would be if the money were real.

MONOPYOLOED - (mahn’ ahp yoh lohd): n. The person controlling the largest empire during a Monopoly game; the only remaining player who wishes to see the game through to its natural completion.

MOOL - (mool): n. The little container on the side of a cash register into which your change appears.

MOPEEPS - (moh’ peepz): n. People compelled to look through the curtain opening of your motel room as they pass by.

MOPHENES - (moh’ feenz): n. The semi-truck headlights that invade your motel room at three in the morning.

MOTMESHS - (maht’ mesh ez): n. A pair of inseparable shopping carts.

MOTODRIFT - (moh’ toh drift): n. The mistaken belief, at a stoplight, that your car is moving backward when, actually, the car beside you is moving forward.

MOTSPUR - (maht’ spur): n. The pesky fourth wheel on a shopping cart that refuses to cooperate with the other three.

MOUTHLETIC - (mowth’ leht ik): adj. Having the useless talent, acquired in bars, of being able to twist a cherry stem into a knot with one’s tongue.

MOWERHAWK - (moh’ ur hawk): n. The strip of grass that remains here and there after mowing a lawn.

MOWMUFFINS - (moh’ muf finz): n. The dried accumulation of grass on the underside of lawnmowers.

MOZZALASTICS - (maht suh las’ tiks): n. Large deposits of cheese that stick to the top of the pizza box.

MUFFINLUST - [I](muh’ fin lust)[I]: The slightly illicit feeling one experiences when undressing a cupcake.

MULTIPOCHOHOLES - (mawl tee poh’ choh holz): n. Wounds left in test papers from overerasing.

MUMMABOLIC CHORUS - (mum uh bah’ lik koh’ rus): n. When three or more people are singing along to a tune and suddenly discover that each is faking their way through the unintelligible lyrics.

MUMMELOT - (muh’ muh laht): n. The bottomless repository to which theatre tickets are dropped after being torn.

MR. CEMENTEE - (mis' tur see men' tee): n. Any cement truck with colorful polka dots or stripes painted on it, ostensibly to attract children.

MUNCHBUNCH - (munch' bunch): n. The huddle that forms around the cake and cookies at an office celebration.

MUGPUDDLES - (mug' pud ulz): n. Small bodies of water that collect on upturned mugs in the dishwasher.

MUMPHREYS - (mum’ freez): n. Those strange extra digits you find on touch-tone telephones.

MUSQUIRT - (mus’ kwurt): n. The water that comes out of the initial squirts of a squeezable mustard bottle.

MUSTGO - must’ goh): n. Any item of food that has been sitting in the refrigerator so long it has become a science project.

NABISCITES - (neh bih' skytz): n. Deteriorated cookie particles that remain submerged in the milk.

NABULANCE - (nab’ yew lans): n. The slow, nonchalant appearance of a hand growing out of your neck and groping for the unbuckled seat belt at your side, as viewed by the cop who just pulled you over.

NACLICAL JOKE - (nak' lik uhl johk): n. Gleeful practice of loosening salt shaker caps even though you know you won't be around to savor the outcome.

NAD - (nad): 18.4 centimeters: the average distance from a driver's outstretched fingertips to the ticket dispenser in a parking lot.

NADCATCHER - (nad kach’ ur): n. The bar on a man’s bicycle whose sole purpose seems to be painfully reminding the man of his own masculinity.

NAPGRAPHS - (nap' grafs): n. The markings you find on most institutional pillows.

NAPJERK - (nap’ jurk): n. The sudden convulsion of the body just as one is about to doze off.

NARCOLEPULACY - (nar koh lep’ yool ah see): n. The contagious action of yawning, causing everyone else in sight to yawn also.

NASALSTALGIA - (nay zul stahl' juh): n. Special smells that bring you back to another time and place, e.g., your mother's kitchen.

NEBULAND - (neh’ bew land): n. Any place where the “void where prohibited” clause on a game card appears.

NEBULANTS - (neh’ bew lantz): n. Those product ingredients that follow phrase, "contains one or more of the following," as if the manufacturers themselves don't know what goes in the stuff.

NEGATILE - (neh’ guh tyl): n. Any area of the bathroom floor where, somehow, the scale registers you five pounds lighter.

NEGLINTICS - (neh glin’ tiks): n. The study of why dark lint attaches itself to light clothing and vice versa.

NEOICE - (nee oh ice’): n. Any ice cube removed before its time that, upon close examination, resembles a carpenter’s level.

NEONPHANCY - (nee on’ fan see): n. A fluorescent light bulb struggling to come to life.

NERKLE - (nur’ kuhl): n. A person who leaves his Christmas lights up all year.

NEVITTS - (nev’ itz): n. The sandpaper-like deposits on a cat’s tongue.

NEUTRON PEAS - (new’ trahn peez): n. Tiny green objects in frozen dinners that remain cold even when the rest of food has been microwaved beyond recognition.

NEWSPAMPER - (nooz' pam pur): n. The plastic bag that appears on your newspaper on days when it rains or snows.

NEWTON - (new’ tihn): n. The cookie shell surrounding the fig in a Fig Newton.

NICAMEASLES - (nik' a mee zulz): n. Brown dots on the front of a ballplayer's uniform from spitting tobacco and missing.

NICOMETEOR - (nik oh mee’ tee awr): n. A cigarette that exits through a car’s front window and reenters through the back.

NIFLECK - (nih’ flek): n. The unmarked domino in the set.

NINKER - (nin' kur): n. Any utensil or item that positions itself inside a drawer so as to prevent the drawer from opening and allowing access to the problem.

NISTOLS - (niz tulz): n. The small, rubbery pads on the bottom of a dog’s paw.

NITVWIT - (nit' vwit): n. Any person who can't find the reverse gear in a Volkswagen.

NIZ - (niz): n. An annoying hair at the top of a movie screen.

NIZZLEBRILL - (nih’ zuhl bril): n. The “night-day” switch on a rear-view mirror.

NOCTURNUGGETS - (nok’ tur nuh gitz): n. Deposits found in one’s eyes upon awakening in the morning, also called: GOZZAGAREENA, OPTIGOOK, EYEHOCKEY, etc.

NOFLET - (nahf’ lit): n. The upward swirl of hair found on certain individuals such as Ronald Reagan and Big Boy.

NOGGENAVIGATION - (nog uh nav uh gay' shun): n. The ability of parents to guide their small children around by the tops of their heads.

NOMOR - (noh' mohr): n. The red slash and circle that is the symbol of Universal Hatred.

NOODLIUM - (nood' lee yum): n. The tiny window on the box through which you are allowed to view spaghetti and pasta.

NORTONISMS - (nor' tun iz umz): n. "Loosening up" motions made with the wrist before writing.

NOUGALICITY - (noo ga lis' ih tee): n. The degree to which a Snickers bar will stretch before the caramel snaps.

NOZZLOP - (noz' zlop): v. To look into a garden hose in zealous anticipation of the coming flow.

NUGLOO - (nug’ loo): n. A single continuous eyebrow that covers the entire forehead (also called UNIBROW).

NURGE - (nerj): v. To inch closer to a stoplight thinking that this will cause it to change quicker.

NUTRASECOND - (noo' truh sek und): n. The brief moment of pleasure before the aftertaste of a diet soft drink sets in.

NUTTONBUTTON - (nut' un but' un): n. The device at intersections marked "push to cross."

OATGAP - (oht’ gap): n. The empty space in a cereal box created by “settling during shipment.”

ODDIOVIDEO - (ah' dee oh vih' dee oh): n. Inexplicable phenomenon of tuning into a TV show you've seen just once only to have it be a repeat of the exact same episode.

ODGET - (ahd' jit): n. Those extremely obscure crayons that will never be used because nothing in the universe is the color of cerise.

OLINGO - (oh ling’ goh): n. Any extraneous o that is placed at the end of a word to make it more colorful, emphatic, etc. (e.g., “Nutso,” “Whacko”).

110 AT THE EQUATOR - (won’ ten at the ek way’ tawr): n. Any burning sensation experienced directly below the navel when putting on a pair of jeans straight from the dryer.

OOB - (oob): n. The hollow tube left behind when the onion accidentally slithers out of the onion ring.

OOPZAMA - (ewp’ zah mah): n. Sudden scratching of the scalp or face upon realization that the person at whom you were waving wasn’t who you believed it was.

OPHEAD - (op' hed): v. To smash one's head against the crease of the newspaper to get it to fold.

OPLING - (oh’ pling): v. The act, when feeding a baby, of opening and closing one’s mouth, smacking one’s lips and making “yummy” noises in the hope that baby will do the same.

OPTORTIONIST - (op tohr’ shun ist): n. The kid in school who can turn his eyelids inside out.

OPUKUM - (oh pewk’ uhm): n. That horrible-looking liquid in which the scooper rests at the ice cream parlor.

OPUP - (ahp’ uhp): v. To push one’s glasses back upon the nose.

ORCHIDAIR - (ohr kid’ ayr): n. The giant, see-through refrigerator at the florist where they keep the expensive flowers.

ORDACITY - (or das' ih tee): n. The crafty way advertisers have of wording order forms ("Gentlemen, please send me. . .," "Enclosed please find my check for. . .," "I understand that if I am not fully satisfied. . .") so that it looks like we wrote them ourselves.

OREOSIS - (awr ee oh’ sis): n. The practice of eating the cream center of an Oreo before eating the cookie outsides.

OROGAMI - (or oh gah’ mee): n. The miraculous folding process that allows Kleenexes to methodically emerge from the box one at a time.

OROSUCTUOUS - (or oh suk’ choo us): adj. Being able to hold a drinking glass to one’s face by sheer lung power alone.

ORQO - (oar' ko): n. The small bar that turns an "O" into a "Q." (Not to be confused with the Arqo which is the bar that turns an "R" into a drugstore.)

OTISOSIS - (oh tis oh’ sis): n. The inability to meet anyone else’s gaze in an elevator.

OUIJAUL BOARD - (wee’ hawl bohrd): n. The collection of business cards and flyers (“We Haul Anything”) often seen posted on the walls in laundromats and supermarket vestibules.

PAINTHEIST - (payn' thee ist: n. One who never believes a "wet paint" sign and must test the claim for himself.

PAJANGLE - (pah jayn’ guhl): n. The condition of awakening with one’s pajamas turned 180 degrees about the waist or torso.

PAKILAPSE - (pak' uh laps): n. The delay in service that is endured when the 7-11 clerk is forced to walk over and extract another roll of pennies from the MONEY FORT.

PAMPERY - (pam' pur ee): n. The pretense of going through someone's stack of baby pictures slowly, making cooing sounds, etc., when you really want to flip through them like a deck of cards.

PARD - (pard): n. The stubby, eraserless pencil that miniature golf courses and bowling alleys issue you, presumably to prevent you from changing your score.

PARSLEYCUTION - (par slee kew’ shun): n. The destruction of garnish on your plate out of fear that it will be recycled and darken your life another day.

PARSLEYVANIA - (par slee vay' nyuh): n. The place from where all the fancy restaurant garnish that is never eaten comes.

PASTAPLEGIC - (pas tuh plee' jik): n. Any person who's eaten so much spaghetti that he cannot move.

P.A.T. (PERCUSSIVE ACCORDION-TROMBONE) METHOD - (pee ay tee meth’ uhd): n. Standard approach to preparing a drinking straw for use: Consists of driving it sharply downward against a tabletop, thus causing the wrapper to rip open and achieve an “accordion” effect. The user then brings the exposed end of the straw to his mouth and blows the wrapper across the room.

PAYFALL - (pay' fal): n. The sound a public telephone makes that tricks you into thinking your coin was accidentally returned.

PEAMORPHO - (pee mor' foh): n. The peanut butter that escapes through the holes to the other side of the cracker.

PEDAERATION - (ped ayr ay’ shun): n. Perfect body heat achieved by having one’s leg under the sheet and one hanging off the edge of the bed.

PEDIDDEL - (peh did’ uhl): n. A car with only one working headlight. (Antonym: LEDDIDEP: a car with only one working taillight.)

PEDLOCK - (ped’ lahk): n. The condition of a bicycle pedal wedging itself against the kickstand.

PEEPOLA - (pee poe' luh): n. The gap in the dressing room curtain that can never be completely closed.

PELP - (pelp): n. The crumbs and food particles that accumulate in the cracks of dining tables.

PENCICOPTER - (pen' sih kop tur): n. Classroom invention fashioned from a pencil and a ruler during periods of extreme boredom.

PENCIVENTILATION - (pen sih ven tih lay’ shun): v. The act of blowing on the tip of a pencil after sharpening it.

PEPPIER - (pehp ee ay’): n. The waiter at a fancy restaurant whose sole purpose seems to be walking around asking diners if they want ground pepper.

PEPSILLUVIUM - (pep sil lew' vee yum): n. The tiny amount of cola that escapes when you push a straw through the plastic lid of a fountain drink.

PEPSUNAMI - (pep soo nahm' ee): n. The exciteable wave of carbonation that rises up and cascades over the glass when pouring a soft drink onto ice.

PERCALEVATE - (pur kayl' eh vate): v. To levitate oneself while trying to straighten out the bedsheets underneath.

PERCAMBULATE - (pur kam’ byew layt): v. The tendency of a fitted sheet to lose its grip and roll up the mattress.

PERCUBURP - (pur’ kyu burp): n. The final gasp a coffee percolator makes to alert you it is ready. (Outmoded sniglet)

PERMAPRESSION - (pur’ muh preh shun): n. The discovery that there is no real difference in the various cycles of your washing machine.

PERPHEW - (pur’ few): n. The overpowering aroma of a thousand colognes that assault you as you enter a department store.

PERPIDANKULAR - (pur pihd aynk’ ew lar: adj. The “parallel” method of lacing athletic shoes. (See also: DIANKULAR)

PETAPHOR - (pet’ uh fohr): n. Any descriptive phrase that includes an animal (“sick as a dog,” “crazy like a fox,” “slippery as an eel,” etc.).

PETONIC - (peh ton’ ik): adj. One who is embarrassed to undress in front of a household pet.

PETRIBAR - (pet’ rih bar): n. Any sun-bleachd prehistoric candy that has been sitting in the window of a vending machine for too long.

PETRIDENT - (peh' try dent): n. Old sticks of gum found at the bottom of a woman's purse.

PETROOL - (pet’ rool): n. The slow, seemingly endless strand of motor oil at the end of the can.

PETROULETTE - (pet roo let'): n. The risky game of driving about with your fuel guage below empty.

PEWTONE - (pyu tohn’): n. The major atmospheric component of towns with paper mills.

PEXZOOT - (pek zoot'): n. The small piece of lid that the can opener always passes over.

PHILOPOLOGIST - (fil ah pahl’ ah jist): n. A specialist who loads people onto amusement rides.

PHISTEL - (fis’ tuhl): n. The brake pedal on the passenger side of the car that you wish existed when you’re riding with a lunatic.

PHONESIA - (foh nee’ zyuh): n. The affliction of dialing a phone number and forgetting whom you were calling just as that person answers.

PHOSFLINK - (fos’ flink: v. To flick a bulb on and off when it burns out as if this will miraculously bring it back to life.

PHOTARD - (foh’ tard): n. Any oversized head in a high school yearbook, the result of not being present on photo day.

PHOTOYOKEL - (foh toh yoh’ kul): n. A person who presses the wrong button on a film camera, causing it to dismantle and expose the roll.

PHOZZLE - (fah’ zuhl): n. The buildup of dust on a record needle.

PIEBREAKERS - (py' bray kurz): n. The "waves" on the top of a meringue pie.

PIELIBRIUM - (py lih’ bree uhm): n. The point at which the crust on a wedge of pie outweighs the filling and tips it over.

PIELIGNMENT - (py lyn' ment): n. When eating pie, arranging it so that the pointed end is in line with one's chest.

PIEPUSHERS - (py’ puh shurz): n. Attendants at fast-food restaurants who, no matter what you order, try to unload apple or cherry turnovers on you.

PIEWAGON - (py’ way gun): n. The small vehicle that carries game pieces around a Trivial Pursuit board.

PICKLETTULANCE - (pik uhl et’ yoo lans): n. The ability to remember the entire family’s order at a fast-food restaurant.

PIFFLESQUIT - (pif’ uhl skwit): n. The wire net, or “harness”, surrounding the cork of a champagne bottle.

PIGGLYPHOBIA - (pig lee foh bee’ uh): n. The fear that everyone suspects you of shoplifting when you try to leave a store without having purchased anything.

PIGSLICE - (pig’ slys): n. The last unclaimed slice of pizza that everyone is secretly dying for.

PILLSBURGLAR - (pilz’ burg lur): n. A person able to sample the icing on a newly frosted cake without leaving a fingerprint.

PITJUDICE - (pit’ jew dis): n. The paranoia that any breed of dog you cannot immediately recognize is a deadly pit bull.

PIYAN - (py’ an): n. (acronym: “Plus If You Act Now”) Any miscellaneous item thrown in on a late night television ad. (Example: a pitchman trying to sell an all-purpose carving knife . . . “it’s the only knife you’ll ever need. Plus if you act now, this complete set of steak knives . . .”)

PLACEBASE - (pluh see' bays): n. Any item used as a base in a baseball game during an equipment shortage, such as a rock, a cardboard box or a large turtle.

PLADONIUM - (play’ doh nee uhm): n. The unique smell of new Play-Doh that almost tempts one to eat it.

PLASTIPAPERPLEXION - (plas tih pay pur plek’ shun): n. Inability to decide whether to choose paper or plastic, often resolved by settling for paper bags inside plastic ones.

POCKALANCHE - (pahk’ uh lanch): n. Perpetual action of reaching down to pick up an item fallen from a shirt pocket, only to have another item fall out.

POINT BLIMFARK - (poynt blim’ fark): n. The point at which the wheels on a stagecoach appear to turn in the opposite direction.

POLARIND - (poh’ luh’ rind): n. The peeling on an instant Polaroid snapshot.

POMOMADE - (pa' mom ayd): n. Emergency grooming product (active ingredient: saliva) used by mothers to smooth kids' hair.

PONUNDRUMS - (poh' nun' drumz): n. Those strange green mailboxes that are completely sealed off, the insides of which no civilian has ever witnessed.

POPTROOPERS - (pahp' trew purz): n. Kernels that leap over the side of the container onto the counter as the popcorn is being purchased.

POTENTATER - (poh' ten tay tur): n. The largest french fry in the bag. (See also MINUTATER.)

PORCELATOR - (pawr’ suh lay tawr): n. The “emergency” drainage hole near the rim of a bathroom sink placed there to prevent overflow.

PORKUS NON GRATIS - (por’ kus non graht’ is): n. The scraggly piece of bacon at the bottom of the package.

POSICRO - (pah’ sih kro): n. The magnetic or “charged” strip of Velcro. (ant. NEUCRO (new’ kro): n. The negative or “uncharged strip of Velcro to which Posicro adheres.)

POSTALPORTS - (poh’ stuhl pawrtz): n. The annoying cellophane windows in business envelopes that never line up with the address.

PREMADERCI - (pree muh dayr’ chee): n. The act of saying goodbye to someone, then running into him again moments later (usually accompanied by a lame quip such as “you following me?”).

PREMAIL - (pree’ mayl): n. Mail that is placed behind the visor in the car and is left for several months before it’s finally sent.

PREMALOOMA - (prem ah loo' mah): n. Any piece of aluminum foil that comes off the roll looking like the state of Nevada.

PREMBLEMEMBLEMATION - (prem blum em blum ay’ shun): v. Upon depositing a letter in a postal service mailbox, re-checking to make sure it’s gone all the way down.

PREMODEMOLITIONITION - (pree' mo deh mo lih shun ih shun): n. When the car ahead of you pulls too far out into the intersection, backs up, and you know that they haven't put the car into forward gear and will probably very shortly plow into you.

PRESSTENTIVE - (pres ten’ tiv): n. The one, dog-eared newspaper that’s been passed around the entire coffee shop.

PRETZALINE - (pret zah leen’): n. The salt deposit at the bottom of a bag of pretzels.

PRIMPO - (prim’ poh): n. A person who passes by a mirror, then has to step back, presumably to reassure himself that he still exists.

PROFANITYPE - (proh fan’ ih type): n. The special symbols used by cartoonists to replace curse words (points, asterisks, stars, and so on). It is yet to be determined which specific character represents which specific expletive.

P-SPOT - (pee’ spaht): n. The area directly above the urinal in public restrooms that men stare at, knowing a glance in any other direction would arouse suspicion.

PSYCHOPHOBIA - (sy koh’ foh’ bee yuh): n. The compulsion, when using a host’s bathroom, to peer behind the shower curtain to make sure no one is waiting for you.

PUKETORIALS - (pewk’ tohr ee uhlz): n. The lush photographs and “serving suggestions” offered by frozen dinner manufacturers in an attempt to make the product inside seem more palatable.

PULPID - [puhl’ pid): n. A child who enjoys the package or carton more than the item that came in it.

PULPSQULPGULP - (pawlp' skawlp gawlp): v. To slurp the grapefruit juice straight from the bowl in which it's served and abandon all civility.

PULPULARITY - (puhl pyew lahr’ ih tee): n. Molecular property of newspaper clippings that allows them to tear evenly from north to south but jaggedly east to west.

PUNTIFICATE - (puhn tih’ fih kayt): v. To try to predict in what direction a football will bounce.

PUPSQUEAK - (puhp’ skweek): n. The sound a yawning dog emits when it opens its mouth too wide.

PURCILIOUS - (per sil' ee yus): adj. The manner in which a man holds his wife's pocketbook in public, as if it contained some odious matter.

PUPKUS - (pup’ kus): n. The moist residue left on a window after a dog presses its nose to the surface.

PURPITATION - (pur pih tay’ shun): v. To take something off the grocery shelf, decide you don’t want it, then deposit it elsewhere, in another section.

PUSHOPATHIC - (puh' sho path' ik): adj. Having the secret urge to expedite the person ahead of you through a revolving door.

PUZZ - (puz): n. The “lint” that accumulates at the bottom of a jigsaw puzzle box.

PYRAMONSTER - (pie' ruh mon stur): n. That thing with one big eye on the back of a one dollar bill.

Q-SPICIOUS - (kew’ spih shus): adj. Examining a cotton swab immediately after us to make sure your brain isn’t attached to it.

QUADRIPHOBIA - (kwa dri foh' bee yuh): n. The fear of approaching a four-way stop sign and not knowing "who goes next."

QUANTATO - (kwahn tay’ toh): n. Any french fry so overloaded with ketchup that it has to be suspended above and then lowered into one’s mouth.

RADIOLIMBO - (ray dee oh lim’ boh): n. Long expanses of interstate highway where it is impossible to pick up any FM radio broadcasts except livestock reports.

RADIOPORKTIVITY - (ray' dee oh pork tiv' uh tee): n. The rainbows that form in two-week-old packaged meats.

RAGPOLE - (rayg’ pohl): n. The bamboo pole to which library newspapers are attached.

RAMPRIOT - (ramp’ ry uht): n. Free-for-all that erupts as soon as the stewardess utters the phrase “please remain in your seats until the plane has come to a complete stop.”

RAYCOON - (ray’ kewn): n. Any person who falls asleep while sunbathing with shades on and achieves a “masked” appearance.

RAZOR BAKUS - (ray’ zur bak’ us): v. Tightening one’s jaw like Mr. Howell from “Gilligan’s Island” in order to get a closer shave.

RE - (ar’ ee): n. The white filling in an Oreo cookie.

RECOGILOG - (re kog' ih log): n. The list inside of a library book that you always check to see if you recognize anyone else who's wasted time reading it.

REEDGES - (reed’ jez): n. The distinctive ridges on a Reese’s peanut butter cup.

RELED - (ree led’): v. To reset all the digital clocks in the household following a power outage.

REMOTANT - (ree moh' tant): n. Any alien creature who suddenly appears in the background of a news or feature report.

RESIDUDES - (rez' ih doodz): n. Those old men you always see sitting around the lobbies of cheap hotels.

RETINUS PIGMENTOASTUS - (reh' tih nus pig men tos' tus): n. The condition of being misled by the tinted window on a toaster oven into thinking something is "done."

RETRACTABEEPING - (ree trak’ tuh bee ping): v. Explaining to another driver, via a series of frantic hand gestures, that you honked by accident.

RETROCARBONIC - (ret roh kar bahn’ ik): n. Any vending machine that dispenses the beverage before the cup.

REYULERATE - (re yew' lur ayt): v. To reposition Christmas tree lights so that no two of the same colors are beside each other.

RICEROACH - (rys’ rohch): n. The burnt Krispie in every bowl of Rice Krispies.

RIGNITION - (rig nih’ shun): n. The embarrassing action of trying to start one’s car with the engine already running.

RINFRAKS - (rin’ fraks): n. The small pile of broken cones at an ice cream shop.

RINGS OF RATH AND KAHN - (ringz' uhv rath' and kahn): n. The mysterious red rings encircling some sliced balognas.

RINTINABULATION - (rin tin ab yoo lay' shun): n. The telltale jingle of your dog's I.D. tags that offer advance warning before overenthusiastic greetings.

ROCKTOSE - (rok’ tohs): n. The hard lumps that block the pouring spouts of sugar dispensers.

ROEBINKS - (roh’ binks): n. Those mysterious chimes you always hear when entering small boutiques and corner stores.

ROGERLAND - (rah' jer land): n. The netherworld from which highway patrolmen suddenly materialize.

ROHRSHIRT - (roar’ shurt): n. A shirt with an ink stain on the pocket.

ROOMSKILLETS - (rewm’ skil litz): n. Giant eight-ounce keys handed out by some hotels.

RORT - (rort): n. The item in the copier left behind by the previous user which you sometimes also copy because sooner or later the information will come in handy and you will be the hero.

ROTISSERATE - (roh tis' sur ayt): v. The act of turning over to even out one's suntan.

ROTOCORONETIC - (roh toh cah roh net' ik): n. A person who eats corn on the cob in an up and down or "column" style. (See also SMITHCORONETIC.)

ROVALERT - (roh’ vah lurt): n. The system whereby one dog can quickly establish an entire neighborhood network of barking.

ROVERGENCE - (roh vur' jens): n. The endearing quality of wet dogs to get as close to a human being as possible before shaking themselves dry.

RUBBAGE - (ruh’ bij): n. Large pieces of truck tire found on the sides of highways.

RUBUNCLES - (roo’ bunk ulz): n. The bumps on an uncooked chicken.

RUMPHUMP - (rump' hump): n. The seat on the school bus directly over the rear wheel.

SACRIJIGGLE - (sak rih jig' gul): v. Rustling the church offering plate without actually contributing.

SAIFWAIF - (sayf’ wayf): n. The abandoned, half-filled shopping cart seen in a supermarket aisle, apparently left by someone who was only “pretending” to be shopping.

SANIRIZE - (sah' nih ryz): n. The uncanny and embarrasing property of feminine products to defy gravity and float to the top of a woman's purse, making itself plainly visible to all upon entering.

SARK - (sark): n. The marks left on one’s ankle after wearing tube socks all day.

SCADINK - (skad’ ink): n. The annoying buildup of ink on the end of a ballpoint pen.

SCANNICPANIC - (skan' ik pan' ik): v. The act of tearing apart an entire living room in search of the television remote control instead of simply walking over and manually turning on the TV.

SCANOOT - (skah noot'): v. The quick scan and removal of embarassing items (photos, empty Ben & Jerry's containers, People magazine, etc.) when clearing off the car seat for a passenger.

SCHLATTWHAPPER - (shlat’ hwap pur): n. Any window shade that allows itself to be pulled down before hesitating momentarily, then snapping back up in your face.

SCHLITZSTOP - (shlits' stop): n. The one player in amateur softball games who always thinks he can handle his position and a beer at the same time.

SCHNUFFEL - (shnuf’ uhl): n. A dog’s practice of continuously nuzzling your crotch in front of guests.

SCHWIGGLE - (shwih’ guhl): n. The amusing rotation of one’s bottom while manually sharpening a pencil.

SCORBAGE - (skor bahj): n. Wadded up trash hurled toward the wastebasket from across the room.

SCOTCHROTOR - (skoch' roh tur): n. The wheel left behind when all the cellophane tape is used up.

SCRABITCH - (skrab’ ich): n. The impossible-to-reach area in the middle of the back that can never be scratched.

SCRATCHTASY - (skrach’ tuh see): n. The state of euphoria attained when scratching an itch.

SCRIBBLICS - (skrih’ bliks): n. Warm-up exercises designed to get the ink in a pen flowing.

SCRIBLINE - (skrib’ lyn): n. The blank area on the back of credit cards where one’s signature goes.

SCRIT - (skrit): n. Anything that’s been in the same place for at least fifty years without being used, such as the archaic bottles of hair tonic on a barber’s counter.

SEALYWHEELIE - (see' lee wee lee): n. The startled reaction when you turn over in bed and realize there's no more bed in that direction.

SECOND OILPINION [TO GET A] - (seh' kund oyl pin' yun): v. To check a dipstick, wipe it off, then recheck the level because you never "trust" it the first time.

SENTIMUCK - (sen’ tih muk): n. The gloopy feeling you get when you see a newly married couple aggressively stuffing cake into each other’s face.

SERVELENCE - (surv’ lents): n. The sudden lull in dinner conversation that occurs at a table of diners when the food is served.

SHIELDSNUGGLING - (sheeld' snug ling): n. A widely held childhood belief (often carried into adulthood) that by pulling all bedcovers closely around the body as possible, one will be immune from ghosts, goblins, burglars, etc.

SHIRTLOP - (shurt’ lahp): n. The asthetic condition of a shirt that has been improperly buttoned.

SHOCKLET - (shahk’ lit): n. The third hole on an electrical outlet that, until recent years, was a mystery to all.

SHOECIDE - (shew’ syd): n. One shoe, its partner nowhere to be seen, lying abandoned in the road.

SHOEFLY - (shoo’ fly): n. The aeronautical terminology for a football player who misses the punt and launches his shoe instead.

SHOWERSHROUD - (show' ur shrowd): n. Those hotel shower curtains that inexplicably wrap themselves around you as you shower.

SHRIMPEDIMENT - (shrim’ ped ih ment): n. The point on a shrimp’s tail that you cannot eat past.

SHUGGLEFTULATION - (shug left yoo lay’ shun): n. The actions of two people approaching, trying to maneuver around each other, and muttering a lame quip such as “thanks for the dance.”

SHURP - (shurp): v. Holding your own breath when a character in a television show or movie submerges himself in water.

SHUSS SHOCK - (shus shahk): n. The sensation of still wearing skis on your feet several hours after having removed them.

SHUZMA - (shuhz’ muh): n. The portion of window cleaner that the spray tube can no longer reach.

SHWEE - (shwee): n. The sound made by a door opening on "Star Trek."

SILICANAPE - (sih lih kan’ uh pay): n. The little bag of silica gel found among stereo parts that is marked “do not eat.”

SIRLINES - (sur lynz): n. The lines on a grilled steak or hamburger.

SIZZLAGE - (siz' lij): n. The amount of skin one is willing to sacrifice while testing an iron to make sure it won't burn one's shirt.

SKIVLINES - (skiv' lynz): n. The red or blue lines around the waists of jockey shorts that make them resemble fine china.

SKYLIE - (sky’ ly): n. The phony backdrop of a city skyline you see on “David Letterman” and the “Tonight Show.”

SLACKJAM - (slak’ jam): n. The condition of being trapped in one’s own trousers while trying to pull them on without first removing shoes.

SLEEVDINI - (sleev dee' nee): n. A person who fights his or her way out of a shirt without first unbuttoning the cuffs.

SLOANTIME - (slown' tym): n. The difference between real time and the time displayed atop the bank.

SLOLO - (sloh' loh): n. A nickel or dime stranded in a twenty-five cent gumball slot.

SLOOPAGE - (sloop’ ij): n. The tendency of hot dogs, hamburger and sandwich contents to slip from between their covers.

SLOOPHAPPY - (slewp’ hap ee): adj. The condition of people on boats who feel compelled to wave at every landlocked person they pass.

SLOOVERS - (sloo' vurz): n. Remnants of soap too small to use but too big to throw away.

SLOPWEAVER - (slahp’ wee vur): n. Someone who has mastered the art of repositioning the food on his plate as to give the appearance of having consumed a good portion of it.

SLOTGREED - (slaht’ greed): n. The habit of checking every coin return one passes for change.

SLOTTERY AND VENDICATION - (slaht’ er ee and ven dih kay’ shun): n. A public misdemeanor in which a person gambles on a vending machine, loses, and tries to exact revenge by kicking it.

SLOVERTURE - (slow' vur chur): n. The distorted music which begins every educational movie.

SLURCH - (slerch): n. The combination “ouch” and slurping noise one makes when eyeing someone else’s bad sunburn.

SLURM - (slurm): n. The slime that accumulates on the undersides of a soap bar when it sits in the dish too long.

SLURPEESLOPPY - (slur pee slah’ pee): adj. The style of attire worn to a convenience store after 11 P.M.

SLUTURES - (sloo’ churz): n. The four white threads that protrude from a pair of jeans after the tag has been removed.

SMITHCORONETIC - (smith koh roh net' ik): n. A person who eats corn on the cob in a left to right or "typewriter" style. (See also ROTOCORONETIC.)

SMOKEYPOKEY - (smo kee poh' kee): n. Inertia, or lack thereof, that overcomes cars when they suddenly encounter a highway patrolman.

SMOOK - (smewk): n. The flimsy paper stretched across the examination table at a doctor's office.

SMUGSTICKER - (smug' stih kur): n. The price tag that otherwise intelligent people leave on their new car window for months.

SNABBLE - (sna' bul): v. To attempt to use a Sniglet while playing Scrabble.

SNACKFRICTION - (snak frik' shun): n. The act of jiggling popcorn or M&M's in your hand before inserting them into your mouth, as if somehow this will "excite" them into into tasting better.

SNACKMOSPHERE - (snak’ moh sfeer): n. The empty but explosive layer of air at the top of a potato chip bag.

SNACKTIVITY - (snak tiv' ih tee): n. Any amusing table pastime (i.e. putting olives on the ends of one's fingers, "biting faces" into a slice of bread, etc.).

SNACTIONALS - (snak' shun ulz): n. The crumbled cookies at the bottom of the package eaten without guilt since only whole cookies contain calories.

SNARGLE - (snar’ gul): v. To lessen the visual impact of a horror movie by filtering it through one’s fingers.

SNATWHAP - (snat' hwap): v. To force the change in a bed partner's snoring pattern by delivering a knee-to-kidney thrust.

SNIFFLERIDGE - (snif’ uhl rij): n. The trough leading from the nose to the upper lip.

SNIPOCRIT - (snih poh’ krit): n. One who silently scrutinizes the hairdresser’s hair before deciding whether to turn his own head over to this person.

SNOCKER - (snok' ur): n. The coin that wedges itself sideways in a coin tube and backs everything up.

SNOOKUMDOODLES - (snook' um doo dul): n. Charity bake-sale items that go unpurchased because they were created and donated by a woman who owns no fewer than six cats.

SNOOTIQUETTE - (snoo’ tih keht): n. The act of upgrading one’s table manners in direct proportion to the prices on the menu.

SNORFING - (snorf’ ing): n. The little game waitresses love to play of waiting until your mouth is full before sneaking up and asking, “Is everything okay?”

SNOWLARPLEXUS - (snoh lur plek' sus): n. The part of the abdomen that sustains injury when you're shoveling snow and suddenly come to a rise in the sidewalk.

SNUGGAGE - (snuh’ gaj): n. The compulsory act of retying both shoestrings when only one needed it.

SOMNAMBAPOLOGIST - (som nam bah pahl’ uh jist): n. Person too polite to admit he was sleeping, even when awakened at three in the morning.

SONGLONGER - (song' long gur): n. A person who always sings ". . . and many moooore" at the end of the "Happy Birthday" song.

SPAGELLUM - (spah jel’ uhm): n. The loose strand on each forkful of spaghetti that beats one about the chin and whiskers.

SPAGMUMPS - (spayg’ mumpz): n. Any of the millions of Styrofoam wads that accompany mail order items.

SPALDRAWLS - (spawl' drahlz): n. Etched autographs in sports equipment that the manufacturers would like you to believe were personally carved by the athletes themselves.

SPECLUMS - (spek’ lumz): n. The minuscule bumps on a strawberry.

SPEEB - (speeb): n. The beeping noises made by construction or service vehicles when they are backing into reverse.

SPERAWS - (speer’ awz): n. The pinched marks on the ends of hot dogs.

SPIBBLE - (spib’ buhl): n. The metal barrier on a rotary telephone that prevents you from dialing past 0.

SPIROBITS - (spy’ roh bitz): n. The frayed bits of left-behind paper in a spiral notebook.

SPIRTLE - (spur’ tuhl): n. The fine stream of juice from a grapefruit that always lands right in your eye.

SPLATFORM - (splat’ form) n. The step on a ladder boldly marked “THIS IS NOT A STEP.”

SPOOD - (spewd): n. The flat wooden “spoon” that accompanies ice cream cups.

SPORK - (spork): n. The combination spoon/fork utensil found in fast-food restaurants.

SPLATFALLEN - (splat' fahl len): adj. The state of secret disappointment that follows reaching the end of a traffic jam and not seeing blood, gore, overturned vehicles, scattered currency, or anything else spectacular enough to justify the delay.

SPRATCHETT - (spra’ chit): n. The rubber bar at a checkout counter that separates one load of groceries from the next.

SPROUT LINES - (sprowt lynz): n. Visible lines at the bottom of trouser legs where the hems have been let down.

SPRUCE SPRINGSTEENS - (sproos sprig’ steenz): n. Those pine-scented car fresheners resembling small trees that you sometimes see dangling from rearview mirrors. (See also: MIRRORABILIA)

SPUBBLING - (spub’ ling): v. The superhuman feat of trying to wash one’s hands and manipulate the “water saving” faucets at the same time.

SPUDPUDDLE - (spud pud' dul): n. The area cleared out beside a stack of fries for ketchup.

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Sep 5, 2008 - 06:37 PM
Complete Sniglet Compendium Pt. 3
SPUDRUBBLE - (spud’ ruhb uhl): n. Unclaimed french fries at the bottom of the fast-food bag.

SPUMPSPEED - (spump' speed): n. The maximum velocity achieved between speed bumps before having to slow down again.

SQUADDLE - (skwah' dul): n. The stooped over position that an airline passenger in the window seat endures while waiting for the other passengers to disembark.

SQUAFFLES - (skwah’ felz): n. The individual squares comprising a waffle.

SQUAKEZE - (skwahk eez'): n. The language spoken by fast-food employees who take your order in the drive-through lane.

SQUALKEENUS - (skwal kee’ nus): n. The shock that comes from biting into a popsicle with one’s front teeth.

SQUANDERPRINT - (skwahn’ duhr print): n. Directions that try to make you use up a product faster than you normally would. (Ex.: Apply shampoo. Lather. Rinse. Repeat.)

SQUATCHO - (skwatch’ oh): n. The useless button at the top of a baseball cap.

SQUATFLECTION - (skwaht’ flek shun): n. The distorted reflection in a car window that makes you resemble a midget wrestler.

SQUATIC DIVERSION - (skwah’ tik dy vur’ zhun): n. Any pretended activity that commands a dog owner’s attention while the dog relieves itself on a neighbor’s lawn.

SQUEALLICIT - (swkee’ lih sit): v. To miss a freeway exit by a few feet and back up rather than continue forward to the next exit.

SQUIGGER - (skwig’ uhr): n. A cherry tomato that explodes upon contact with a fork.

SQUINCHOOING - (skwin chew' ing): v. To stare up at the sun in order to expedite a sneeze.

STATIGROOVIC - (sta tih groov’ ik): adj. The type of people who wait until they’re on the dance floor to begin dancing.

STEREOIDS - (stayr’ ee oydz): n. The mysterious packet included in some electronic product packages to keep them fresh.

STOCKNOSTIC - (stok nos' tik): n. A store clerk who makes a trip to the empty shelf to "see for himself" when you ask if there is more of a particular product in the storeroom.

STOPTIONAL - (stop' shun ul): n. Any stop sign in the middle of nowhere, to which no one pays any attention.

STRATEGIC TART LIMITATION - (stra tee’ jik tart lim ih tay’ shun): n. The compromise reached by two people who know they shouldn’t have dessert but are both secretly dying for it.

STROODLE - (stroo’ duhl): n. The annoying umbilicus of cheese that stretches from a slice of hot pizza to your mouth.

STRUMBLE - (strum’ buhl): n. That invisible object you always search for and pretend made you trip, when it was actually your own stupid clumsiness.

STURP - (sturp): v. To pin down a runaway piece of paper or currency with one’s foot before the wind blows it away.

SUBATOMIC TOASTICLES - (sub ah tom’ ik toh’ stik uhlz): n. Tiny fragments of toast left behind in the butter.

SUBNOUGATE - (sub noo’ gayt): v. To eat the bottom chocolates in a box and carefully replace the top level, hoping no one will notice.

SUBPARMA - (suhb par' muh): n. The second lid beneath the sliding top lid on a can of grated parmesan cheese.

SUBWAY SURFERS - (sub' way sur' furz): n. People on public transportation with the uncanny ability to maintain perfect balance without using the straps.

SUCCUBEEBISH - (suk yoo bee’ bish): n. The gelatinous substance found surrounding canned hams and Vienna sausages.

SUDSORIAN CALENDAR - (sudz oar' ee an ka' len dur): n. Calendar used on soap operas which allows one day's events to be stretched out over a four-week period.

SUITICIDE NOTES - soot’ ih syd noatz): n. Apologetic “We tried but . . .” notes found on articles of dry cleaning that you didn’t know were stained to begin with, consequently leading one to believe the dry cleaner probably created the stain themselves.

SUPERFLUHOLES - (soo pur floo’ hohlz): n. The phony holes on speaker covers, put there to match the ones that actually surround the speaker.

SURVOIDS - (sur' voydz): n. The irrational walking patterns made by shopping mall pedestrians attempting to avoid a person approaching with a clipboard.

SUZMOSIS - (suz moh' sis): n. The mysterious disappearance of dishwater even when the sink is stopped airtight.

SWANGLE - (swayn' gul): n. The degree of altitude at which the swinging child causes the legs of the swing set to leave the ground.

SWANTHRACITE - swan’ thrah syt): n. The part of a TV dinner or any frozen entree that remains semifrozen even after being microwaved for the recommended length.

SWATUSI - (swah' too' see): n. The little back-and-forth dance tennis players perform while waiting for the serve.

SWAZNA - (swahz’ nuh): n. The thin, disgusting membrane that connects the bottom of the tongue to the top of the jaw, presumably holding it in place.

SWEAT WURM - (swet' wurm): n. Any sweatpant drawstring that has retreated inside the waistband fabric and must be "fished" out.

SWIMSWANKY - (swim’ swank ee): adj. The superhuman ability of the watersliding victims on an airline safety card to stay dry and perfectly groomed.

SWURLEE - (swer' lee): n. A playground swing wrapped impossibly out of reach. (Not to be confused with the gradeschool intimidation technique of the same name.)

SYRAPORATION - (sur ap ur ray' shun): n. The strange disappearance of maple syrup immediately after pouring it onto flapjacks.

T-RATION - (tee' ra shun): v. To use less and less toilet paper as one nears the end of the roll.

TABLE SNORKELING - (tay’ buhl snawrk’ ling): n. Frantic gesticulations when one bites into hot or spicy food and has to take in air to cool it off.

TACANGLE - (tak' ayn gul): n. The position of one's head while biting into a hardshell taco.

TAJ MAHOLDERS - (tahzh mah hol’ durz): n. The plastic cups old ladies use to hold their quarters at casinos.

TATERCRATER - (tay' tur kray' tur): n. The hole dug into mashed potatoes to keep the gravy in.

TEARERIST - (tayr' ur ist): n. The person at the movie theatre whose only apparent function is to tear your ticket, leaving you with only half of what you once had.

TELECRASTINATION - (tel uh kras tih nay’ shun): n. The act of always letting the phone ring at least twice before picking it up, even when you’re only six inches away.

TELEPRESSION - (tel uh preh’ shun): n. The deep-seated guilt which stems from knowing that you did not try hard enough to look a phone number up on your own, instead putting the burden on the directory assistant.

TELESUCKIE - (tel uh suk’ ee): v. The act of holding a non-cordless telephone receiver to one’s chest while dialing.

TELEVELOCITY - (teh leh veh la' sih tee): n. The speed at which one hurls himself toward the telephone before the answering machine comes on.

TELLETIQUETTE - (tel et’ ih ket): n. The polite distance kept by one person behind another at an automatic teller machine (so as not to be suspected of trying to glimpse that person’s secret code).

TELOUSTIC - (tel oo’ stik): adj. The tendency for people to shout into the phone when calling long-distance.

TEMPTELLIGENCE - (temp tell' ih jens): n. The ability of a Thermos bottle to figure out whether something should be kept hot or cold.

TERMA HELPER - (tur' mah hel' pur): n. The extra verbage one uses to stretch a 600 word essay to the required 1,000.

TERRORNESIA - (tehr ur nee' zyuh): n. The panic induced by introducing two people to each other and suddenly forgetting one (or both) of their names.

TESTERNMENT - (tes turn' ment): v. To bury one's paper in the middle of a stack to postpone the inevitable embarassment.

TESTLICE - (test’ lys): n. Those tiny bugs that invade your hair when you’re taking an exam.

TESTPIRATE - (test pur’ ayt): v. To emit a big gush of air from one’s lungs after turning in an exam.

TEXAS SEE-SAW MASSACRE - (teks' us see' saw mas' uh kur): n. When the other person bails off a teeter-totter at the base, causing you to slam mercilessly to the ground.

THERMABUNIFEROUS - (thur muh bun if' ur us): adj. The unexplainable property of your favorite chair feeling "hot" after someone else has been sitting in it, even though everyone's body temperature is supposedly the same.

THERMALOPHOBIA - (thur muh loh foh’ bee yuh): n. The fear when showering that someone will sneak in, flush the toilet, and scald you to death.

THERNOT (thur’ naht): n. The cardboard rod on a hanger that prevents creasing in pants.

THREEK - (threek): n. A fork with a bent tine.

THRICKLE - (thrik’ uhl): n. The itch in the back of the throat which cannot be scratched without making disgusting barnyard-type noises.

THRIFT SHOCK - (thrihft shahk): n. The act of spotting one’s previously owned items at a Salvation Army.

THRUB - (thrub): n. The small web of skin between the thumb and index finger that makes us 0.0005% amphibian.

THWARTHEAD - (thwoart' hed): n. Any bolt or screw that resists manipulation due to the lack of a correspondingly sized wrench or screwdriver.

THWOCKBISCUITS - (thwok bis' kitz): n. Biscuits initially prepared by smacking the container against the edge of the counter.

TIBIAFIBULATE - (tih bee uh fih' yoo layt): v. When sporting a cast or visible injury, constantly having to recount the story of "how it happened" (thus leading one to bold "embellishments").

TICKIDIOCY - (tik ih’ dee oh see): n. The period of self-loathing that immediately follows “thanking” a police officer for a speeding ticket.

TIEFRIGHT - (ty’ fryt): n. The fear that no matter which way you turn the twist-tie on a loaf of bread, it is the wrong direction.

TILE COMET - (tyl kahm’ it): n. Any streamer of tissue attached to your heel as you emerge from a public restroom.

TIMEFOOLERY - (tym foo' lur ee): v. Setting your watch five to ten minutes ahead in an effort to be more punctual.

TIREQUILLS - (tyr’ kwilz): n. The small rubbery protrusions on new tires.

TOASTATE - (tohs’ tayt): v. To impatiently pop toast up and down in the toaster, thus increasing the likelihood of burning it.

TOASTIPHOBIA - (toh stih foh' bee yuh): n. The fear of inserting one's fork into the toaster even when the toaster is unplugged, because, somehow, the toaster "remembers."

TODLITTER - (tod' lit ur): n. Food debris beneath a high chair following an attempted feeding.

TOILET TOUPEE - (toy’ lit too pay’): n. Any shag carpet toilet cover that causes the lid to become top-heavy, thus creating an endless annoyance to male users.

TOLLOAF - (tohl’ ohf): v. Missing a toll basket as you drive through, then having to exit the car, retrieve the coins and try again.

TONKATIVE - (tawnk’ uh tiv): adj. When a child makes up his own soundtrack to accompany the miniature cars he’s playing with on the floor.

TOOLCENTRIC - (tewl sen’ trik): adj. Describes any tool that, when dropped, rolls to the exact center of the car’s underside.

TRAFALSE - (truh fuls'): n. Nebulous symbol used by unscrupulous students on true/false exams in hopes that the teacher is either very lenient or terribly nearsighted.

TRAFFILAPSE - (traf' ih laps): n. The immeasurable amount of time between the moment the stoplight changes and the jerk behind you starts blowing his horn.

TRASHGAUNTLETS - (trash gawnt' litz): n. Any set of work gloves reserved for the sole purpose of taking out the garbage and bringing the cans in again.

TRIDECKPICK - (try dek’ pik): n. A miniature sword or similar device used to hold a sandwich together.

TRITZ - (tritz): n. The holes in a Saltine cracker.

TRUFFITI - (truh fee' tee): n. Washing instructions found on the backs of dirty trucks.

TUBLOIDS - (tuhb' loydz): n. Any periodical reserved for bathroom readings.

TUBSWIZZLE - (tub’ swih zuhl): v. To slide oneself back and forth in the bathtub in order to mix the too-hot water with the cooler water.

TUNAR - (too' nar): n. Sonarlike device in cat food tins that, when opened, causes the immediate materialization of cat(s).

TUPPERWARP - (tuh' pur warp): n. The condition of having left Tupperware in the microwave too long.

TUPPERZOID - (tuh’ pur zoyd): n. The mysterious monster who enters the dishwasher during the cycle to melt spatula handles and plastic bowls.

TURFIGEE AND PEDIGEE - (tur’ fih jee and ped’ ih jee): n. The two extreme points of a rotary lawn sprinkler, TURFIGEE being the safest point at which to walk past, PEDIGEE being the most dangerous.

TWIDCLIPPING - (twid' klip ing): v. To succumb to boredom at the office and bend a perfectly good paperclip into a shape that is completely useless.

TWINCH - (twinch): n. The movement a dog makes with its head when it hears a high-pitched noise.

TWINKIDUE - (twin’ kee dew): n. The residue on the inside of the wrapper that every junk food addict eventually gets to.

TYLEXIC - (ty leks’ ik): adj. The awkward stranglehold position one is forced to adopt when trying to help a child knot a necktie.

UCLIPSE - (yew’ klips): n. The dangerous arc into another lane made by drivers just before executing a turn.

UFLUATION - (yoo floo ay’ shun): n. The peculiar habit, when searching for a snack, of constantly returning to the refrigerator in hopes that something new will have materialized.

UHFAGE - (uff’ ij): n. The unit for determining a television’s age, that is, the amount of time it takes for the picture to appear once the set has been turned on.

UHFLAW - (yoo' flaw): n. The one television in a bank of television sets at the appliance store that is tuned to a different channel than the rest.

ULTIMATO - (ul tih may' toh): n. The choice of eating your vegetables or going to bed without supper.

UMBILINKUS - (uhm bih link’ us): n. The tiny appendage at the end of a link sausage.

UMBRACE - (uhm’ brays): n. The small strap that holds an umbrella closed in place.

UMBROGLIO - (um brol' yoh): n. Any conflict with an umbrella on a windy day.

UNCLE BEN’S RABIES - (unk’ uhl benz ray’ beez): n. The cascade created when one adds rice to boiling water.

UNDERBERGER - (un dur bur' gur): n. Someone who lifts the bun from the top of his hamburger and surveys the contents before taking the first bite.

UNDERHOODIST - (un dur hood’ ist): n. A service station attendant with a genius for locating hood latches.

UNDERWONDER - (un’ dur wun dur): n. That “knowing” feeling you get when carrying an armload of laundry that causes you to turn around and see a trail of dropped underwear.

UNFARE - (un fayr’): n. The three dollars you owe the taxi driver before you’ve even moved a foot.

UNIPEA - (yew’ nih pee): n. A peanut with only one compartment.

UNIPUKER - (yoo' nih' pew kur): n. The hapless guy riding solo in a roller coaster car. (See also: UPCHUCKEES.)

UPCHUCKEES - (up chuk eez'): n. The couple directly behind the unipuker. (See also: UNIPUKER.)

UPULS - (yoo’ pulz): n. The blank pages at the ends of books, presumably placed there so you can rewrite the endings.

URMOMMERIZE - (yer mom' mer eyez): v. To attempt to decipher exactly what an upset coach is mouthing on television.

VACATION ELBOW - (vay kay’ shun el’ boh): n. A condition that suddenly develops in a father’s arm during a family outing that allows him to reach out and slap a child from incredible distances.

VACUBEAM - (vak' yew beem): n. The useless headlight on a vacuum cleaner.

VEGAS VASELINE - (vay’ gas vas’ eh leen): n. The invisible product that seasoned tippers use to slip a gratuity into a maitre d’s palm without showing any green whatsoever.

VEGELUDES - (vej’ eh loodz): n. Individual peas or kernels of corn that you end up chasing all over the plate.

VEGEMAT - (vej' uh mat): n. The green (or brown) leaf of lettuce that supports a lump of JELL-O or cottage cheese.

VENDOMETRIC - (ven doh meh’ trik): n. A person who inserts his change into a vending machine according to size (dimes, nickels, quarters).

VENDOVALUEIST - (ven doh vayl’ yew ist): n. A person who inserts his change into a vending machine according to value (nickels, dimes, quarters).

VERTEBRATRAMATRACIDE - (vur' teh brat ruh mat' ruh syd): n. The act of intentionally stepping on cracks in the sidewalk to see if one's mother suffers incidental spinal damage.

VIDEO K. CORRAL - (vid’ ee oh kay korh’ ayl): n. The “gunslinger” feeling one gets while armed with a VCR remote in one hand and a TV channel remote in the other.

VOITLOCK - (voyt’ lahk): n. When the basketball gets lodged between the rim and the backboard.

VOLTAGRAM - (vohlt’ uh gram): n. The miniature maps inside tape players that show how the batteries should be arranged.

VULCANT - (vuhl’ kant): n. The stale air that emanates from a deflating tire.

WAFTIC - (wahf’ tik): adj. Describes any person in whose direction campfire or barbecue smoke always blows.

WAISTENATE - (way’ sten ayt): v. To silently calculate the human tonnage in an elevator to determine if it has exceeded the weight limit.

WALDUST - (wal' dust): n. The powder that sticks to you when you lean against a white wooden house.

WAMBLIE - (wahm' blee): n. A pair of pliers or vicegrips that has been readjusted to the "crippled" mode.

WARBLOID - (war’ bloyd): n. The tiny device in cassette players and VCRs that eats tapes.

WASHINGTON ABRAHAM - (wash' ing tun ay' bra ham): n. Our nation's most unidentifiable president, the one that appears as a facsimile on the instructions of a change machine.

WATTBOBBLE - (waht’ bah buhl): v. To remove a hot light bulb by turning it several times, letting your fingers cool, then repeating the process. This is generally followed by the glorious revelation of using your shirttail.

WAVOIDS - (way' voydz): n. People who bob up and down in the ocean trying to stay dry above the waist.

WENDENSITY - (wen den' sih tee): n. The method of guaging an area's population solely by the number of visible fast-food outlets.

WERDLE - (wurd’ uhl): v. To lean over the edge of a train or subway platform in search of the oncoming vehicle.

WERDLEMASS - (wurd’ uhl mas): n. An entire group of people leaning over a train or subway platform.

WERXILATION - (wurks uhl ay’ shun): n. The property of some screen doors to start to slam shut only to catch themselves at the last moment and “float” to a gentle close.

WESEENEMS - (wee see' numz): n. Recreational vehicles plastered with state national parks and American flag decals.

WHATLET - (hwot let): n. Any electrical plate on the wall with no holes and consequently, no purpose whatsoever.

WILY’S LAW - (wy’ leez law): n. The only known exception to Newton’s Law of Gravity, Wily’s Law states that an animal or person cam suspend himself in midair provided (a) he is in a cartoon, and (b) he doesn’t look down and become aware that he is no longer on the ground.

WIMBLEDOWN - (wim buhl’ down: n. The fuzz on a tennis ball.

WINDNESTY - (wind’ nest ee): n. The belief that if a parking ticket placed between your wiper and your windshield is blown away, you’re not responsible for paying it.

WIPERCUSSION - (wy per kuh’ shun): n. The phenomenon of one’s windshield wipers keeping perfect time with the song on the radio.

WISHAIR - (wish' ayr): n. The deep breath taken just before one blows out the candles on the birthday cake.

WISHUSCRIBBLE - (wish' you skrib ul): n. Writing style one adopts when trying to stay within the designated spaces of a postcard.

WISKAGE - (wis’ kaj): n. The gravitational property that causes clothes to stick to the outside of the drum well after the spin cycle has concluded.

WITLAG - (wit' layg): n. The amount of time between the delivery and comprehension of a joke.

WOB - (wahb): n. The long, weary walk up the aisle at the end of a movie.

WONDRACIDE - (wun’ drah syd): n. The act of murdering a piece of bread with a knife and cold butter.

WOOWAD - (wew’ wahd): n. Giant clumps of stuck-together rice served at Chinese restaurants.

WORKER’S MOON - (wur’ kurz moon): n. The true international symbol of “men at work.”

WRANKLING - (rang' kling): v. The unnerving habit mothers have of gingerly unwrapping and refolding the paper on a gift to save for later use.

WRIGLIMORTIS - (rig lee mohr' tis): n. The effect of a cold drink on a piece of chewing gum.

WURBLET - (wur’ blit: n. The line of moisture on one’s trousers that comes from leaning against a wet counter in a public restroom.

WUJECTIVE - (woo’ jek tiv): n. Any word consisting of a prefix and a nonexisting baseword (e.g. nonplussed and redundant).

XEROXPOX - (zee’ roks poks): n. Skin disease of copier paper, characterized by the appearance of large black, powdery blotches.

XIIDIGITATION - (ksy dij ih tay’ shun): v. Trying to determine the year a movie was filmed by deciphering the Roman numerals at the end of the credits.

XIXELS - (ziks' ulz): n. The lines above and below a string of Roman numerals that keep them from scattering all over the place.

YABBADYNAMICS - (yab’ uh dy nam iks): n. Propulsive force that enables Fred Flintstone to power a stone automobile with just his feet.

YACHTCHOTSKIS - (yaht chaht’ skeez): n. Ornamental naval etchings you always see on the buttons of a man’s blazer.

YAFFLING - (yah' fling): v. Speaking loudly to foreigners as if, somehow, this makes you easier to understand.

YARDRIBBONS - (yard rib’ bunz): n. The unmowed patches of grass discovered after one has put away the lawnmower.

YARDSCHTICK - (yard' shtik): n. Lame quips and rejoinders that neighbors exchange when they see each other in the backyard (i.e., "When you get finished with your yard, how about doing mine? Ha ha. . .," etc.).

YARDYUTZ - (yard’ yutz): n. Any homeowner who builds a circular driveway in front of a two-bedroom house in an attempt to impress the neighbors.

YEARAGOSTATS - (yeer' uh goh stats): n. The part of a forecast that tells you what the weather was like one year ago so that you'll feel even more miserable.

YINKEL - (yin’ kul): n. A person who combs his hair over his bald spot, hoping no one will notice.

YORANGE - (yawr’ anj): n. Those disgusting white threads that hang from an orange after it has been peeled. (Note to poets: your prayers have been answered!)

YOTATE - (yoh’ tayt): v. To allow a yo-yo to unwind itself.

YULEBLECK - (yool' blek): n. The mysterious green stuff that appears in holiday fruitcakes all across America.

YUMP - (yump): v. To punch one's glove in anticipation of an arriving baseball.

ZEBBITS - (zeb' itz): n. Those bizzare fireplace tools whose function no one seems able to explain.

ZEBRALANE - (zee’ bruh layn): n. The striped area between the interstate and the turnoff lane where cars go when drivers can’t decide what to do next.

ZEEPT - (zeept): n. The accumulation of dead insects around an electric bug zapper.

ZERBLOT - (zur’ blaht): n. The last kid picked in any neighborhood sporting event.

ZERO POPTARTULATION - (zee' roh pop tar' you lay shun): n. The outer part of the Pop Tart where no frosting or filling can be found, just tasteless crust.

ZIBULA - (zih’ byoo luh): n. The plastic spine to which model car parts come attached.

ZIPCUFFED - (zip’ kuft): v. To be trapped in one’s trousers by a faulty zipper.

ZILLA TRAPS - (zil' uh trapz): n. Those giant metal structures in which science fiction movie monsters inevitably find their feet tangled.

ZIMETER - (zih’ mee tur): n. The last four or five inches of tape measure that never rewind automatically.

ZIPPIJIG - (zih' pih jig): n. The dance one performs whenever a rubberband is pointed at them.

ZIPPLE - (zih’ puhl): n. A broken tab on a beer or soda can whose absence prevents the can from being opened.

ZIZZEBOTS - (zih’ zeh botz): n. The marks on the bridge of one’s nose, visible when the eyeglasses are removed.

ZYXNOID - (ziks’ noyd): n. Any word that a crossword puzzler makes up to complete the last blank, accompanied by the rationalization that there probably is an ancient god named Ubbbu, or German river named Wfor, and besides, who’s going to check?

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Aug 31, 2008 - 12:24 AM
I Have Written A Wonderful Sentence.
This might literally be the worst sentence ever written. It came to me as I was writing an e-mail to a friend from college.

Let me take a moment so that the awesomeness of this concept can wash over you like that special feeling you get when it's your turn to have your hair checked for lice.

It's so tastelessly great that I cannot stop smiling.

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Aug 18, 2008 - 08:35 PM
For Those Interested, Update on GFF Mole

I'm still working on this. It's not something that can be run frequently, so I'm aiming to make it a singular experience of high quality. This means that all the elements must be ready to go before the game begins, no designing fifty percent on the fly.

I've concluded that I'll need to create an entirely new usergroup for this, one with a fair number of restrictions. With plans for twelve players, there will be twelve dupe accounts created. I'll assign one to each player.
Each account will be restricted to the Mole forum, whatever it's called. The next part is where it gets trickier. Because I want to minimize the risk of meddling from the outside, all players will be anonymous. Each account will bear a name but aside from me and that player, nobody else will know who's using it.

Further, each account will have limited Journal and PM access. This is where I will likely need Chz or Bigblah's assistance. I want players to be able to communicate with each other, and take private notes, but to have these features remain hidden from the rest of the board. If need be, Journal entries can simply be made private. But the PM thing is a must, as I don't need spoilers coming from outside the game.

The other reason for the dupe accounts is that I don't want to deny players access to GFF. Several years ago, NYRSkate did a Survivor game and participants were sequestered to one subforum. Granted, the whole premise of Survivor is seclusion, but Skate became increasingly inattentive and players became angry when his absences forced them to idle without purpose. I'm not going to repeat that.

I've already completed a handful of games, but the kinds of games that will work via internet forum are limited. They need to make people work together, yet allow for players to individually choose whether to aid or sabotage. Not as simple as it sounds. A lot of them will have to involve visuals - images and/or words. I'm trying to keep the games as variated as possible but forgive me if there's occasionally a thematic overlap.

I've decided that the end prize will be a gift card to something like Amazon. It will begin at a set amount, and all points earned in the games will increase the final value of the card. So if no games are won, the winner walks away with, say, a $50 card. But if a lot of games are won, then the value could double. That could be a few games, some DVDs, t-shirts, electronics, whatever you like. It's worth playing for, I think.

That's where it stands. Not taking sign-ups or anything yet. I get asked about it now and again, so I'm just putting the status here.

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