Quail

Quail

Some of you may remember an aptly named VP that made many of us quail with his stupidity. Oi.

OK, I might as well get to the point. This is the last entry for this blog. I know, I know! You're all quailing in fear:

"Myne Gott, BrieDank, what are we do to?"

Unfortunately...or fortunately if you're me...I have a couple interviews coming up. Of course that doesn't mean I'll actually get the job, but some other priorities have changed as well and my time has had to shift to other things. I know, I know:

"Myne Gott, BrieDank, what are we do to?"

But my question to you is, why are you repeating yourselves? I'm just kidding.

Actually, that's another reason I'm quitting now: I feel like if I don't I'm going to start repeating MYself, and I'm thinking saying this stuff once was probably enough.

But, if there's one "take away" (as the corporadoes say) from this bog, this is how I want you to remember me. And we all know that's whatcher gonna miss the most...

PS

Mercurial

Mercurial

You know what's mercurial? Trying to watch digital TV using rabbit ears. Forget watching Live with Kelly. Every morning sometime between 9.00 and 9.15 suddenly the ABC station (and all its syndicated digital off-shoots) goes pixelated and then black. I was just watching a Rita Hayworth/Douglas Fairbanks Jr flicker right now on Antenna TV and am going to miss the end. Will Doug and Rita get together in the end? Will the down-on-his-luck guy get the money he needs from the gangsters in the card game? What will happen to the drunken playwright? These are the questions that will be swarming in my head for days and keeping me awake at night! (And then I'll probably forget about it.)

When I was a kid Mercury was always my favorite god. Actually, he was about the only one I cared about. I think it was because he was younger and was always running with something to do. I think it was the running part that I liked. I was never a runner when I was younger, but the idea of going from here to there in minutes was always very appealing to me. Plus, he was was always around because of the FTD logo, so I just simply saw him more than the other gods. So, between running and just simply seeing him so often, I figure that's why I liked him so much.

Did you know that saying 'mercurial' is like doing sit-ups for your tongue? You don't have to say it out loud, but just mouth it twenty-five times. Feel the tongue wedging itself between the upper chops during the 'cur' while at the same time preparing itself for the 'ial' part? That's good exercise, says I. Keeps the tongue in shape! This could mean one of two things:

1. Do this exercise everyday and you could end up with tongue like this. You could speak eloquently while barely moving a muscle - the tongue would flow and form sounds like none other and you could become a world-famous elocutioner.
2. Or you could end up with a mouth full of - and not be able to speak well at all. 

Unfortunately this exercise has not been approved by...anyone...and results are completely unknown at this time. Good luck.

Peripatetic

Peripatetic

"Peripatetic barroom"
Now we just call them "people who don't want to buy
the license to be in the gates of the venue." (And
undoubtedly at the time they were called "the guy
with the donkey and the over-priced hooch.") 

Really? 'Peripatetic'? 'Extravagate' is gone but 'peripatetic' is still going strong? (Or at least as strong as a word like 'peripatetic' can in our modern lexicon.) I hate that word! You know what I think it is? Do you? I think it's peripathetic! HA!!!

Does that make me odd that I love and hate words so much? No? Oh, good. I can sleep tonight.

I think I have an aversion to it because all the consonants are hard. If the word was 'periphathetic' I'd be much more inclined to like it.*

Actually, I'll admit - I can't hear peripatetic without thinking the person doing the roaming is doing so all on fours. Wait, that's not right. Maybe I could buy into this word if we said that, instead of crawling, we described an infant's movements as 'quadripatetic.' And when you hopped, you were 'unipatetic.' But I hate the '-tetic' part at the end. It's ugly. How much cooler is 'quadrivagate' and 'univagate'? Completely, right? I knew you'd agree.

Or perhaps I'll use 'peripatetic' to explain my grey matter.

"Oh, you think Aristotelian about things?"
"No, it just wanders a lot."

Even ask the 'sband. It doesn't happen as much now (thank goodness for modern meds), but we'd be out for dinner and all of a sudden I'd be in a completely different realm thinking about...something. Then I'd blink and be back.

"Go on a little trip?" He'd quoth.
Damn, caught again!!

*"Why I'd have to be on an incline is anyone's guess!"

Stravage

Stravage

Forget 'stravage,' how about that 'extravagate'? Wow, that's my new favorite word that I will promptly forget upon releasing this entry! I just wanna use it all the time!!

Extravagate

It brings a touch of class to any hike:

"Oh, it matters not, we were extravagating the man-made ponds on our way here."

Translation:

"The stupid moron made me walk by the sewage treatment plant to get here."

Now I know what you're saying, you're saying:

"But Briedank, you changed the entire sentence, not just 'walk' to 'extravagate.'"

Are you kidding?? Of course I did! Who could use a great word like 'extravagate' and not change the other words in the sentence? You wouldn't put a real Faberge' egg on the shelf next to a Precious Moments tchotchke, would you? You wouldn't follow up a Beethoven piano Concerto by playing Chariots of Fire would you? Well, would you? The answer is no, you wouldn't. And you're not going to pollute a sentence with 'extravagate' in it with common everyday words like 'sewage' and 'treatment' and 'plant.' Which is why I'll promptly forget 'extravagate' by the end of the morning...cuz I talk using common everyday words, like, well, like 'sewage' and 'treatment' and 'plant.'

OK, I'll talk a bit about 'stravage.' You know why no one uses 'stravage'? Cuz the accent is on the second syllable. What do they think we are, French? Alright, fine, I am part French, but I'm not...Français. I mean, the only way I could get Français properly written is to copy it over from Translate. And if you were to use stravage in a poem, the only word you could rhyme with it is garage.* (And Lord knows why we of the USA have the accent on the second syllable of garage - everyone else says "GAY-rajh.") So, don't look for me to be using stravage in any future entries. I don't like it. Besides, I'll forget it by the time I go to bed tonight.

*Fine, so I don't get into trouble...

Nuance

Nuance

You know who/what I think is nuanced? Hold your britches on this one. It's me/my humor. I know, right? Me? Nuanced? When I write, the difference between real and bull caca is nuanced? Crazy! But I/it must be because people don't seem to pick up on what I feel is banging them over the head with my Big Iron Skillet of Humor (BISH). On Facebook today I wrote:

After peeling tomatoes just now I have to say I don't care WHAT the recruiter from NAU says, I'd make a terrible surgeon! (Besides, "one day, one night" - can you imagine how many years that would take?)

And there were two people who suggested I boil the tomatoes in water for easier peeling. Really? I talk about going to become a surgeon at National American University, taking one class each semester, but everyone completely misses the humor and only thinks I'm incapable of peeling tomatoes. Of course I should excuse people because very few people know that I have the nerves of a surgeon alright...a surgeon on the morning after s/he went on an all-night bender (you can imagine what I was like back in the day when I actually went on all night benders...). Anyway, I had way too much coffee and peeling those tomatoes was...well, it was something.

A few years ago I put on FB, I can't quite remember it all, but it was about how a double-stuffed burrito blew up in the microwave and we left for the weekend before I could clean it out; and then later wrote that I put the microwave outside right before a storm came (it was winter, obviously); and then a couple days later added that I brought it back in and there was an electrical smell when I plugged it in and it was frozen shut and how can I clean it, blah blah blah. Well, I started getting suggestions on how best to clean out a microwave in which stuff was encrusted. Maybe, if any of those people are still even my friends, some of the people who believed those posts are reading this, and if so, I apologize for this, but how could anyone believe that? I put a microwave in the snow, left it there during a storm, but then bring it back in? Doesn't that seem like over-the-head BISH bashing? Obviously I have to watch what I say because my humor is so nuanced, people don't know I'm joking.

I think at the next ice breaker I'm at where we have to introduce and describe ourselves to others, I'm going to say:

"My name is Briedank. I love learning about film and pop-culture history. I like '20s jazz, Blondie, Trance and many other types of music. My favorite TV shows of all time are LOST, Green Acres, and The Honeymooners. My humor is nuanced."

Oooh, you know, if I was single, that would make a great personal ad.

Lugubrious

Lugubrious

Fun story: back in the day when I was hanging out in The Bars, I knew two guys that would sometimes write weird crap about each other in the toilet. One day one of them wrote:

"Richard makes me lugubrious."

Under which some unknown guy wrote:

"10w-30 or 40 weight?"

I'm sometimes so proud of my gay brethren.

But I love the word "lugubrious." It's right up there with "odious" and "ignominious." Hmmm, maybe I have a thing for little-used adjectives. Maybe I should start a club: People who Have a Thing for Under-Utilized Adjectives Group. Or PHTUUAG. I'm sure we could come up with something better, but once the dues started rolling in we could hire a PR firm to come up with a proper slogan and design. Sort of like when Kraft spent their millions of dollars on their new look, because evidently they didn't think they looked enough like Yoplait. Or when NBC thought it would be a good idea to get rid of the peacock. Oops! Or when Holiday Gas stations...oh my, that looks just like NBC, doesn't it? Or when Microsoft came out with Bing and they did their world-wide market research to make sure Bing wasn't slang for "I wanna sleep with your mother" in some country. What they didn't look into was that it's an acronym for "But It's Not Google."

Cripes. Maybe I'll do it myself.

Wow, and now for something completely different. The lead singer from the "goregrind" band Haemorrhage goes by the name Lugubrious. I love this - lookit their homepage. If you listen to the songs they've posted, you'll hear Lugubrious uttering guttural belches, which maybe it's cuz he's singing in Spanish (though* probably not), but I can't understand a thing he's singing. Why doesn't he enunciate better? Luckily there's a link to the lyrics so if you want to sing along but can't understand, you can sing along while reading. That Haemorrhage, always thinking of their fans.

Note to the 'sband: once again, aren't you glad I'm into Trance?

*So "though" is pronounce "tho," but if you take the first 'h' away...?

Unknown

As you may/may not know, neither the 'sband nor I ever seem to get the Word in our email. Don't know what's going on with that, and when I went to the website to check on this morning's, it said "unknown." Everything else said unknown, too. And then I noticed the date was December 31, 1969.

OMG it's Y2K all over!!!

So I'm taking the day off. In fact, I'm always taking Friday off from now on. I'm nervous that trying to come up with something five days a week is gonna lead to burn out, so I'm cutting back a day. My apologies to the reader who reads it everyday at lunch. But hey, try, TRY to have a good day without it, OK?

Stay calm and know it'll be back on Monday...

Inimitable

Inimitable

You know who I think is inimitable? That's right!*

So anyway, here's a few more things I think are inimitable:

• The first sentence of Bellefleur by Joyce Carol Oates. 
• The 3D effects in Hugo. (Thank you, Martin Scorsese!)
• Glen or Glenda directed by Ed Wood. Some bad movies are so bad they're funny (Plan Nine from Outer Space), some are embarrassing (Sextette with Mae West), but Glen/Glenda is so bad it's...just bad. Although the word "baffling" does come to mind.
• The Marx Brothers - 'nough said. 
• The Ryugyong Hotel - not because of the design, but because, who gets that far along in building something and then just stops? Oh wait, North Korean Communists - answered my own question.
• The great Boston Molasses Disaster - at least I hope it's inimitable. I was trashing on the Commies, it's only fair to trash on the capitalists - at least the ones that are stupid and flagrantly negligent.

Ok, this is sort of short, but I have to look for a job...I promised the 'sband...

*To my long-term reader: HA! I'm not THAT completely predictable!

Wend

Wend

So the 'sband is watching Hell's Kitchen and they're picking teams for the final challenge - that is, the top two contenders are choosing.* I mention it cuz the last person to get picked felt like I felt when I was the last to get picked for kickball or baseball or basketball or football or whatever the hell ball we were suffering through - I mean "playing" - that day in phy ed. Luckily in my later high school years sections of phy ed turned co-ed** and there was tennis and curling*** involved.

But I was just thinking that how lovely it would've been if wending a winding trail had been a course in phy ed. Of course that woulda meant that the coach woulda had to actually join in, and well, those who can't do, teach. And those who can't teach, teach phy ed.**** But man, I would have loved phy ed if we had to go out walking in the woods.

So what exactly is the theory behind phy ed? Obviously getting physical exercise is really important, but is it purposely set up to make the non-physical feel bad about themselves? Do the idiots - er, people - that set up the class think that jocks suck at academics and this is their way of evening out the psyche field? The jocks get beat up in academics so now is their chance to beat up the smart people. But we all know that's crap cuz the jocks beat up people all the time - they don't need phy ed for that.******

But I have to say that I was never beat up by the jocks. I got harassed by the dirts. Until we got into our senior year of high school and I ended up hanging out with them. Strange bed fellows for sure. Yep, I lost my virginity to this totally hot n dirty guy with a motorcycle. Oh wait, that wasn't me, that was the sister on Roseanne. Never mind. Man, I am all over today! What is my point? Hmmm, tune in tomorrow, maybe I'll have one.

*If you don't know what I'm talking about, it doesn't matter. But I have to say, every one of those people swears more than I could ever even try to.
**When my father and older brother found out I was in co-ed phy ed, they acted like I single-handedly got women the vote or something (in a negative way).
***Hey, it was small-town Wisconsin - curling was, and still is, HUGE.
****Woody Allen*****
*****Ever notice how Woody Allen movies roll the credits "in alphabetical order"? I wonder if they would roll as such if his name was Woody Zimmerschied?
******Yes, this is a gross generalization of stereotypes, but hey, I'm not the one that set up phy ed the way it is.*******
*******Sorry for all the footnotes.

Aborning

Aborning

Crap, this is what I get for waiting til last minute. It's now 10.00 AM and I'm staring at a blank screen trying to aborn something. Is that even used right? I swear, words like that are so beyond me lexiconically that I feel insecure in their usage. Some people accuse me of just making words up - I don't make them up, I enhance them. But when a word comes to me that's already been enhanced by someone else, I feel obliged to use it properly for a while before taking liberties with it.* I can safely say I've never heard aborning before and will most likely never use it because it would just cause people to look at me askance.

It seems like there are certain words used by specific groups and no one else. "Birthing," for example. I know this is a gross generalization and is probably not really true, but as far I'm concerned, no one can hear the word birthing without thinking "I don't know no nuthin' 'bout birthin' no baby, Miss Scarlett!" And because of that, very few of us would ever say it in casual (or uncasual or discasual) conversation.

"Reckon" appears to be another of those words. In the US, at least in my experience, people don't use reckon because it has connotations of words used by "the Olde Timers" - the same people who would say "Storm's a'brewin', Pa!" Which as previously discussed may never have been said by anyone, but in my opinion should be in every Western movie ever made that has a storm. But back to reckon, I've noticed Europeans seem to have no problem with using it. In his song "Heartbeat Radio," Norwegian singer/songwriter Sondre Lerche croons:

"Tell me what you think about this song / Sue me if you reckon it's too long."

First couple times I heard it I was sorta kinda taken aback. No one uses reckon anymore, and yet, there it is. Hmmm. In the States, the only time we really use it seems to be when we "reckon with" someone/something, as in the "day of reckoning."

If I were to use any of the three words discussed above in daily conversation in a group, at least one person would look at me and either wait for the punch line or deliver it him/herself.  Seriously, next time you're in a group, use one of those words and see what the response is. Post your results below. We'll be awaiting!

*I would make a joke here about "Sort of like guys" but that would make me sound sort of douchey.

Inspissate

Inspissate

"Marmalade of carrots is the juice of yellow carrots, inspissated till it is of the thickness of fluid honey, or treacle, which last it resembles both in taste and color." — From Capt. James E. Cook's 1777 book A Voyage Towards the South Pole and Round the World, Volume 1

Hello, my name if Captain James E. Cook. How many times have you been in the middle of the Ross Sea, overwhelmed by the beauty of Antarctica, and suddenly had the fancy for a nice piece of toast and some carrot marmalade, only to find that your favorite toast topper had turned runny and tasteless?

There has to be an easier way!

Now there is! Thanks to my newest book A Voyage Towards the South Pole and Round the World and Canning Made Easy, Volume 1. Yes, this is the first volume of a twelve-volume set which no sophisticated library can be without. Read about my voyages to the frozen South Pole; that strange land of sexy accents, Australia; the delicious South Sandwich Islands; and journey with me to where everyday is a holiday, Easter Island!

Not only that, but every volume is packed with my garden canning recipes and tips! Make better jams and jellies! Wow your holiday guests with delicious, crispy sauerkraut! There's no need to spend your hard-earned money on ketchup when you can make it for pennies a quart with ingredients from your own garden! Hot and spicy beans! Pickled cucumbers! No need to make seven-bean salad on Christmas eve! Make it months in advance! All this and much, much more!

Yes, order now and in four to six weeks you'll get your first volume, A Voyage Towards the South Pole and Round the World and Canning Made Easy, Volume 1. It's only .50p!! Then, every four to six weeks you'll receive a new volume, including A Voyage Towards the South Pole and Round the World and Canning Made Easy, Volume 2, A Voyage Towards the South Pole and Round the World and Canning Made Easy, Volume 3, A Voyage Towards the South Pole and Round the World and Canning Made Easy, Volume 4. Keep them and pay only two pounds fifty! Each volume is beautifully bound in rich Corinthian leather and will be loved and cherished for generations!

But wait! Order now and when you complete your entire twelve-volume set, you also get A Voyage Towards the South Pole and Round the World and Hooked on Knitting, Volumes 1 and 2! The captain of a sailing ship needs something to do on those long ocean voyages and now you'll know my secrets of not only making the most of your spare time, but making sure the crew has the best and warmest mittens, scarfs, and caps for exploring our frozen wonderlands!

So you don't forget, order right now!

Servile

Servile

You wanna feel servile? Do you? DO YOU? Write a daily blog. Seriously, try it. Do you think I'm having fun writing this stuff? Well, I'm NOT!!! You think I'm all hanging out by the pool, working on my tan and my six-pack, being served nibblies by the cabana boy. I'm not! This is my usual day:

AM
6:00 - Get up and log in to see what the Word of the Day is.
6:10 - Jump in the shower and do my morning toilette.
6:30 - Meditate for 30 minutes on the word to become one with it.
7:00 - First cup of coffee and bran cereal.
7:15 - Search DuckDuckGo looking for additional information on the Word.
7:45 - Give the 'sband a good morning kiss and have second cup of coffee.
7:46 - Search Google Images for additional visual cues of the word.
8:15 - Search the public library databases for additional information on the word, including, but not limited to, The NY Times historical files, Academic Search Premier, American Periodicals Online 1740 - 1941, MasterFile Premier, and Fugitive Fact File.
9:00 - Watch Live with Kelly.
10:00 - Go through personal emails and Facebook and have third cup of coffee.
10:45 - Go through Blog related emails and feedback.
10:46 - Go for stimulating walk to meditate further on the Word.
11:30 - Get the blog ready for writing.
11:45 - Write first draft and drink liter bottle of Mountain Dew.
PM
12:15 - Realize it's crap and rewrite it.
12:45 - Play Bubbletown in frustration.
1:30 - Realize I'm a mess cuz I'm running on caffeine.
1:35 - Eat lunch - usually Earl's Cheese Puffs, a box of macaroni and cheese (sometimes just the powder pack if I don't wanna boil water) and a half-dozen Twizzlers.
2:00 - Watch Bonanza on ME TV. Pine for cable and TCM.
3:00 - Realize I'm having a caffeine crash. Have a Lo-Cal Monster.
3:01 - Rewrite column for third time.
3:30 - Weep silently knowing that the entry sucks like all the other and that no one cares.
3:45 - Watch the story line of "Neighbours" on YouTube involving hot-guy Chris.
4:30 - Read over the blog entry and shake the laptop like it's an Etch-a-Sketch hoping to make the entire virtual world get erased.
4:40 - Do a different Google Image Search.
5:30 - Realize the 'sband is at the front door and nothing has been done for dinner.
5:31 - Give the 'sband a good evening kiss and suggest salads and Lo-Cal Monsters for dinner.
5:32 - Watch 'sband roll eyes and say, "Someone has had enough caffeine for one day."
5:33 - Clutch pearls, gesticulate, and remonstrate vehemently to 'sband how crappy the day went and that the entry is terrible and caffeine is the only thing that keeps me alive and how can I go on? and just one more Lo-Cal Monster is all I ask and that if he loved me he'd make the salads cuz writing is hard and all the online databases at our library suck and can't we move to Mexico and live on beach and I can't think of one freaking thing to write about and
5:47 - 'Sband crabs laptop, read entry, smiles, and says it's great.
5:50 - See entry for 5:33.
6:03 - 'Sband gives me a mouth-covering kiss to get me to shut up.
7:15 - I realize the entry is actually pretty good.
7:20 - Edit and get ready to publish the following morning.
10:00 - Go to bed with the foreboding that drama is somewhere around the next corner of life.

And now you know. My life - welcome to it.

Benison

Benison

Mmmmmmmmm, benison...

Really? I'm from Wisconsin and I'm supposed to use this word without thinking of delicious yummy deer meat? Yea, fine, I'll admit it - I come from a family of hunters and have shot a gun before. Mainly a BB gun. Mainly at my brother's 45 RPM records* (he was very unimpressed). But hey, I've shot other guns. One. Can't remember what kind it was - some sort of hunting rifle. Like three times, maybe. I can't remember. I do remember getting hollered at by my brother for shooting up his 45s. I couldn't help it - I was going through a destructive phase. I also remember shooting at a cattail Dad threw into the swamp. I missed.

I was surprised though, because benison comes from Latin Benedicere and venison comes from Latin venation. Two words, both from Latin, one letter difference, and look at how different the words were from which they evolved. If that isn't a metaphor for the human race and life in general, I don't know what is.

OK, so I hate to change the subject, but this show we're watching just mentioned "Corinthian columns." While there is nothing about columns that would normally make my mind do such a shift, it's that word Corinthian. There is an entire generation of people in the US of A (if not two) that cannot hear the word Corinthian without thinking of leather. Of course there is no such thing as Corinthian leather, but it was drilled into our heads that it was "rich." And for anyone too young to remember those ads and thinks I'm hyperbolizing about how an entire generation would know the phrase "rich Corinthian leather," here you go. You're going to start believing me more often, aren't you? Damn straight.

*Or "rpm gramophone record" as per wikipedia. "Gramophone"??? Fer Pete's sake, if they had said they were "gramophone records" when I was a kid, I think we all woulda waited for CDs - despite the fact we had no idea such a thing was coming.

Aliment

Aliment

"In the Propontis, as far as I can learn, none of that peculiar substance called brit is to be found, the aliment of the right whale." — From Herman Melville's 1851 novel Moby Dick

Well, that makes the whole thing much more clear, doesn't it? My main question is, when Mr. Melville says "the right whale," is he talking about white whales in general, or THE White Whale? All that verbosity and we're just left hanging with more questions.

Speaking of authors, the 'sband recently turned me on to Amanda McKittrick Ros. She is fabulous! I wish I knew enough people that would dig getting together and reading aloud to each other from her tomes. What a delightful way to spend a quiet evening. Hmmmmm, winter is coming, and there's no better time to discover new passions than in the winter! (The sun set for the first time before 8.00 pm here....yecch - we are not amused.)

And just so you know, I realize that I mentioned Ms Ros directly after a discussion on Herman Melville. Please know that this does not mean that there is a correlation between the two. I mean, please, it's not like I had started out the entry discussing William Faulkner...oooohhhh, ouch!

Back to aliment - did you recognize it from its more technical form "alimentary canal"? For some reasons the wires in myne grey matter are registering a cross between the digestive tract and Venice. I think from here on out I'll refer to my digestive system as the alimentary canal. For some reason, referring to that extense of tubes down there as a 'canal' is making me very happy. I really want to link to a canal photo which shows the visions playing in my head, but I think I'll let it go.

Belaud

Belaud

"OH MY GOD! Your blog has changed my life! Thank you so much! I read your blog daily when I first get up in the morning and it helps me get through the day. My son was just a lazy dope-smoking slacker, but since he's been reading your blog, he's gone back to school, got his SEC Series 7 and can open a dentist practice in eight states. My car runs better and my dog no longer pees on the rug. Thank you for creating this blog and allowing us to glimpse into your fascinating life. You are a witty and wise person and I thank you for all you've done for me and my family - both biological and chosen."

Yep, happens all the time.

Unfortunately not to me, but I don't know, maybe someone...somewhere.

Luckily, I'm not after immediate gratification. I write this because I want to make sure I have my place secure in internet and cultural history. I haven't mentioned this before, but when I get done writing an entry, I print out three copies - I send one to The Smithsonian Institute, one to The Library of Congress, and the third to The Center for Lesbian and Gay Studies. I make sure to put "Donation" on each of the envelopes and on the cover letter that accompanies each. I am thus part of the historical collections at three different entities.

"But what if they just throw your stuff away?" you may query.

Good question; I'm glad you asked. Have you ever been around librarians and/or curators of any sort? They hate throwing things away - especially things that are "donations." It's not that they don't want to throw things away, their brains are literally hard-wired in such a way that they can't throw things away. That's why their offices are always such a mess- it's always stuff that should be tossed, but they just can't quite do it. So while my papers may be "lost" in some office now, the day will come when an intern is asked to catalog everything. Said intern will see page after page of my writings, assume that they're part of a series the institute collects, and I'll have a lovely scanned home for my lovely scanned writings just waiting to be discovered and  discussed in the scholarly journals of tomorrow. Wanna live forever? Just gotta know how to use the system.

Sedulous

Sedulous

This morning I saw on Facebook a posting from a woman who wrote "ADVENTURE!" and then had a link to The House on the Rock. There is a bit of a conversation under it which ended with her telling a friend if "you haven't been there, you absolutely must go. You'd love it." Uh oh. I really want to respond to this, but how? Hey, I hope yer being ironic! But what is she wasn't? What if she thought HotR was actually some sort of cultural phenomenon that should be experienced in all its wonders*?

If you haven't been to House on the Rock <- read this. I'll wait.

Done? Welcome back!

I went to the House a couple times when I was a kid and it was fascinating. It was a beautiful collection of stuff that made my young mind explode in wonder. My parents loved it. I even went once by myself when I was around 20 and was impressed. Have my tastes changed that much, or has the whole place just recently gone to sensory-overload hell? I swear, when I was younger, there was the House and then you walked to the collections. Now there's so much crap, there are collections in the House! Seriously, you want to see architectural coolness? This is so not the place. And the whole place really really needs to be dusted. Boy, that would keep an army of  house cleaners busy for months. Oh, and all those musical rooms with the "player" animatrons? I coulda sworn when I was younger they actually played. Lord knows it would cost a fortune to keep all the stringed instruments in tune, but they could at least fake it. Half the strings aren't even attached to their instrument - they might be at one end, but the other end just hangs there, impotently, with the bow going over, well, nothing.

So I know what you're saying. You're saying, "Hey Briedank, what does any of this have to do with sedulous?"

I'll tell you what this has to do with sedulous. See the picture in the upper left corner? Upon coming to that, the 'sband uttered,

"Oh, god..." and his face fell visibly in despair.

That's right, the true definition of sedulous is walking through all the House on the Rock exhibits without either A) speeding up and staring straight ahead to avoid the hell that's trying to force its attentions upon you, or, B) collapsing into a heap and sobbing for security to come and show you the short cut to the end.**

When we were there, the main demographic was younger families - you know, mom, dad and a coupla kids. I really wanted to ask them what they thought. They didn't really seem like the type to spend close to a hundred bucks for a day of irony. But, good news (thankfully), the Facebook entry was indeed meant ironically.

PS: After a discussion with the woman on Facebook, I feel the need to add the addendum:

"I regret to inform you, that I was not being ironic in the least. :) I adored the place, and it's right up Gabe's alley of interest in weird shit. I am not sure who the intended audience is--I could see it both fascinating and terrifying children. I could see adults bored to tears and/or feeling took, trapped in the labyrinth of some madman's illusory dreamscape cruel joke (at cost). But I enjoyed having my senses smashed to bits, and was entirely, intriguingly disoriented by the questionable authenticity of anything. It was great! and fitting for our fractured times. I've long been fascinating by the history of (our ideas about) the future. This was like the reverse--a museum of fantasy antiquity. LOVED IT."

It's so odd when I meet someone who thinks differently than I do...or was that just me being ironic...??

*Or perhaps "wonders" is more appropriate.
**And you thought shortcuts at Ikea were useful!

Dundrearies

Dundrearies

"Hello, I'm Mr. Dundreary. How are you?
I am fine. I have a monocle stuck
in my eyelid. Pity, that."

 Yea, they're Done Dreary alright. I hate long bushy sideburns! I wonder if you grew them long enough if you could turn them into dreadlocks. Get some extensions woven into them. Maybe some nice vintage multi-colored yarn, or perhaps if you're a real man, some multi-colored telephone/computer cable. Or to prove that you're really a true man, some twisted duct tape. Yea, that would be neat. People would ask you questions that they knew you'd answer negatively just to watch you shake your extensions back and forth. And every time you did you get a little massage on your neck from the slapping of the cables. But it would be just enough to get the blood flowing without really hurting. But that would lead to an extension addiction and you'd grow your beard out and get stuff woven into that and you'd get all kinds of long beaded cords and yards of straw woven in and would become a professional hula dancer and you'd never put on your skivvies cuz hell, it's not like anyone can see through all the straw and cords hanging from your beard but you forgot that you didn't have any extensions put on the backside of your head and you'd get arrested for walking around with your South Side flopping in the wind but by this time you don't care - you're a rebel, man, ain't no way The Man gonna make you wear pants - besides you got a gig to get to - the cats are waiting for you to do your hula dancing at that hip new spot all the hip cats are going to - the Hip Hip Hooray Club where "If you're ain't hip, you're a drip" and your people have gathered to watch you, but of course that cop, he don't care cuz he's just workin' for The Man and he takes you downtown to the Big House where you spend the night with two winos and some guy that thinks you're some sort of savior cuz man, you're giving off the vibe and what does he have to do to be saved, but you just  ignore him - you don't have time for that kind of jive, you need to get outa here but that don't happen til the next morning - the next morning she comes - you know - the moll with the gams from here to next Arbor Day and you look at her and it suddenly seems like you been in the slammer fer so long that you think you never gonna see anything like that and yet here she is and she's ready to sign, seal, and deliver you - deliver you right out of that Popsicle stand and when you leave with the dame the sun is coming up and there's litter blowing across the streets and one-night stands on their walk of shame and you have no idea who she is or where she came from, but she's got a job for you, see, a job you can't refuse - a job you don't want to refuse, cuz you've always been a sucker for a 38 27 38 and here she is leading you to the unexplored side of town where you ain't never been.. And that's how you got to be the receptionist at Great Clips.

Dyslogistic

Dyslogistic

Did you see the end of the Did You Know? section?

"And even today the word is likely to be encountered in judicial and intellectual writings."

Whaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa????
Are you saying that just because I never see dyslogistic being used in NASCAR Harlequin Romances that NASCAR Harlequin Romances aren't intellectual? Freaking snobs.

It is rather odd that the word comes from the combination that gave us 'dyseulogy.'

"We now bow our heads to remember...uh...anyone know who the guy is? Ah screw it...is the luncheon ready? I hope the guy wasn't Jewish, I have a hankerin' fer ham."

"Hankering"
Wow, now THERE is a totally cool word!! It's best said with a Wisconsin accent:

"haaaaaaaaaeeeeeeeeeenkerin'"

Really get that A up there in your sinuses. Say with a wide open-mouthed smile. Force as much air as possible through your nose when saying it. Now yer talkin' like someone from Wisconsin! (And, yes, I would/could/should know.)

You know I try not to talk about myself too much in the column - I mean, I really try to keep it about the words. BUT! If there is one thing I've come to appreciate, it's hearing people trying to pronounce the names of towns in Wisconsin. When yer from there, it just all seems so obvious. But evidently...

You know what I really sometimes get a hankerin' for? Yea...*

*Hey, I wasn't going to, but, well, you know who you are!!!

PS: I seem to have gotten some hits from the Ukraine. Well, to welcome my new friends, I offer you this translation of the above:

Ви бачили, до кінця знаєте ви? розділ?

"І навіть сьогодні слово, ймовірно, буде виявлено в ході судових та інтелектуальні праці."

Whaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa??
Ви кажете, що тільки тому, що я ніколи не бачив несхвальний використовується в NASCAR Арлекін романси Це NASCAR Арлекін романси не інтелектуал? Freaking снобів.

Це досить дивно, що слово походить від поєднання 'dyseulogy.'

"Зараз ми схиляємо голови перед пам'ятаю ... е-е ... хто знає, хто цей хлопець? Ах гвинт це ... це обід готовий? Я сподіваюся, що хлопець не був євреєм, у мене є hankerin" ТЕР шинки."

"Жагуче бажання" Ух ти, зараз Існує абсолютно здорово слово! Найкраще сказав з акцентом Вісконсін:

"haaaaaaaaaeeeeeeeeeenkerin"

Дійсно отримаємо, що там, у вашій пазух. Скажіть з широко відкритим ротом посмішку. Змусити стільки повітря, скільки можливо через ніс, коли говорив це. Тепер, як хтось вибору говориш з Вісконсіна! (І, так, я б / може / мусить знати.)

Ви знаєте, я намагаюся не говорити про себе багато в колонці - я маю на увазі, я справді намагаюся тримати його про слова. АЛЕ! Якщо є одна річ, яку я приїхав, щоб цінувати, він чує людей, які намагаються вимовляти назви міст в штаті Вісконсін.

Коли вибору звідти, це просто все здається таким очевидним. Але, мабуть, ... Ви знаєте, що я дійсно іноді hankerin "для? Да ...

** Ей, я не збираюся, але, ну, ви знаєте, хто ви є!

Ramose

Ramose

Wow, talk about confusing. I did an image search and came up with all this Egyptian stuff. Here there was an Egyptian leader named Ramose. I thought they were all named Ramesses.

"Oh Moses....Moses, Moses, Moses. How many times must I tell you that your toeses are not roses? So let it be written; so let it be done. Oh by the way, Messala has a crush on you."

I like that ramose gave us 'ramify.' From now on whenever I hear something asking about 'the ramifications' I'm going to see tentacles growing out of the original suggestion. Is it just me, or are tentacles creepy? I'm not talking physical ones, just the metaphorical type. I think of ramifications as being tentacles and all of a sudden I get a panic attack.

"But if we change the font of the blog from a sans serif to a serif, do we know the ramifications?"
"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH, we live in a universe of complete chaos, capriciousness, and unknowns! I can't go on!"
"Well, as a student of the school of pseudorandomness, I think I can help. Luckily I've brought along my linear congruential calculator which will tell us just how many ramoses could sprout from such a change."
"Bah-humbug! As a student of the frequency of interpretation of probability, the young man has every right to panic. We never know what the outcome of anything will be. The entire building will be covered with your ramoses, smothering us all. Neither font will do us any good if we're dead from suffocation!"
"I believe we must meditate and pray. Our energy will allow for a positive outcome. We can bring the universe into alignment that will allow for this font change to benefit all of humankind."
"You people are all freaking morons. Just freakin' do it, already. Who gives a crap? I got The Real Housewives of Des Moines waiting for me at home on TiVo."

Speaking of not thinking through the ramifications - me getting a board of directors to help run this blog was the biggest ramose grower of them all. Cripes.

De minimus

De minimus

"So, I hear the report you did was totally lame and only lasted a minute and a half."
"Yea, the teacher said he was gonna give me a de minimus."

This word makes me really happy. De minimus. It just bounces all over the mouth and gums when being said. De minimus. Be sure to hold the s for just a split second for balance and grounding - like the ending of a symphony. Now say it with your eyes half closed and then open them wide by the end of the s.  And now say it while doing your most sexy snarl - like yer going in for some extreme animalistic naughtiness.* Really savor the s on this one. Di minimusssssssss. Say it thusly while watching this (yes, it's safe for work). Isn't that fun?

Did anyone else feel weird when O.N. John came out with that song? It seemed like all of her songs were so pure and wholesome and then she comes out with this. I found it rather unsettling. Not as unsettling as I found her character in Grease,** but still disconcerting. I've never understood, towards the end of the song when the word changes from 'physical' to 'enema.' "Let's get enema"? That sounds icky. Top 40 is so weird.

*And I mean with another human being - if yer mind went anywhere else because you saw the word 'animalistic' you're gross and sick.
**Grease has to be the ultimate virgin/whore story. If you don't know what I'm talking about, ask a feminist.

Marplot

Marplot

Yikes, could you imagine being a marall? Now it would be a killall. Ouch.

You know I love my 'sband and I would never call him a maranything, but following is a list of things he stopped me from doing after we started dating. I always think it's fun to act a bit odd in public - keeps people on their toes and gives them something to talk about. But the following is a list of things I can no longer do:

1. Walk down the street with three facial tissues wadded up and shoved into my left nostril.

I would do that and then come home and laugh and laugh! And it never hurt anyone. I even got my picture taken a few times - I thought it was sort of fun. No one ever talked to me or posed for the photos with me, in fact it seemed like people were trying to sneak the picture. Heck, they shoulda just asked me to stand there and smile. We could've had a good chuckle over it. They evidently got the joke and were going to share it with friends.

"Hey, lookit this guy pulling a funny with the wadded tissue up his nose. What an imaginative person - he's going to make someone a great partner someday. If he's that entertaining in public, imagine how entertaining he must be at parties and other such social events. What a great guy to have for a friend. I wish he was my friend. My friends seem so boring in comparison. Darn it, why didn't I talk to him? I wonder if he's still standing there reading the phone book? Maybe I'll go back and see if he's still standing there reading the phone book."

Or some such thing.

Fine, I never read the phone book while doing it. I just thought of that at this point in time. Wish I had, tho, it would've added a whole new dimension. I never think of the really good stuff until the time is over.

Scaramouch

Scaramouch

Yes, I know what you're thinking, and it's exactly what I'm going to do: talk about a few of my favorite character actors. I would like to propose that during the Hollywood studio system, Scaramouch wasn't played by a lot of different actors, but each character actor was his or her own Scaramouch. Yes, this is a geek-out entry.*

Anyone who's anyone knows the best pre-code character was the pansy played by Franklin Pangborn. Of course (aargh!) there's not a decent clip, but, well, hell, this is anti-climactic...look for movies with him in them - he's fantastic!

Another is James Finlayson. You gotta love how he was the guy that started the Homer Simpson "DOH!" that is now international. I'm not real big on the song they use in this, but the 'sband and I love James' facial expressions. So over the top!

And then there's Ned Sparks. He never smiles. This clip will speak for itself.

And Edgar Kennedy - you can see him in action  here.

Obviously we'll close with the ever wonderful Marjorie Main. Here she is...with a whip...oh my...

I love those people in old movies. Things have changed so much with TV that we don't have such actors any more. The last one I can think of is Tom Poston (whom I just saw on a rerun of "Coach" a few days ago). If you have favorites, please post them below!!

*Everybody sing: "Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaah, geek out! Le Geek, c'est Chic!"

Maquette

Maquette

Good news for geeks: I did an image search for maquette just now and discovered that just about all the returns were of sci fi/fantasy models. Hardly any buildings at all. I guess that would make sense, since architects use computer renderings now. (Although you'd think the sci fi/fantasy geeks would, too - I guess that's our irony for the day.)

Looking over all the maquettes that are for sale, I feel like I want to get in on this somehow. Obviously there's oodles of bucks to be made or there wouldn't be a maquette of every character from every sci fi movie ever made. All I have to do is get models made of items/people that are in public domain and put them on a pedestal that reads "Touched in the Grey Matter." All of a sudden a maquette (or perhaps a bobble head?) of Millard Fillmore is a souvenir of this blog and I get a few dollars to keep the phone connected. It's the American way! And laugh if you want to, but...

Other ideas for maquettes would be my mom - it may not look like my mom, but that's not the point - how would you even know? You get to have a maquette that has a base on which is printed "Touched in the Grey Matter: BrieDank's mom!" Won't that make for fun office conversation during down times, Monday mornings, and Friday afternoons? You bet it would!

When you get your maquette of a boniface you can explain to your friends that it's not just any boniface, it's the one that runs the Touched in the Grey Matter nightclub. And when you push the button on the base it'll says one of four things -

"Welcome to the Touched in the Grey Matter nightclub. The only cover charge here is that you must click on the ads! HA HA HA HA!"
or 
"I learned everything I know about bonicafing at air hostess training school!" 
or 
"Buy a bucket of beers and get a free Grossehonkinmuelleimerpuffmais!"  
or
"Our specials tonight are the tacos and the Resep Gimbal Mi."

Cool maquette and you get to relive some of your favorite TitGM memories! Life is good.

Bloviate

Bloviate

Well, as I've mentioned in the past, since the only big words I know are odious and Archimedes, no one can claim I'm a bloviate. On the other hand, since I sometimes write like I think I'm a cow, does that make me a boviate? (Get it? No? Eh, yer not missing much.)

But anyway, I wanted to apologize for the last couple of days. Between having a house guest and not getting the WotD email (again!) it completely slipped my mind. And yesterday...well...going out for an early breakfast can take a lot out of you...I can't help it - I needed a nap, so sue me! (Or better yet, find me a job and I'll no longer be able to take morning naps...that'll show me!)

Speaking of bovines, it's August, and that can only mean one thing. That's right: Christmas shopping!! Yeeees, it's time for deck the halls and light the lights and turn the beer green! I started looking to see what I could get for the little ankle-biter nephews and nieces and have come up with the perfect gift. It's both fun and educational! Are you thinking what I'm thinking? You are if you think like I do, and if you do think like I do, then you're thinking...that's right: the perfect gift for kids from two to 102!!*

So excited! Hurry up, trees! Turn your autumnal colors so we know we're on our way! Sleighing and sledding! Cookies and candy! Cinnamon and spice! Mistletoe and Mad Cow Mini Microbes! Oh yea, the holiday spirit is here!

On the other hand, I wish we could all gather together so we could view and discuss this other product they sell. It's so bizarre in so many ways. It's like some weird South Park parody - the description, the ring of beads around the head, the fact that's it's "just plain fun." I hate to sound like a Hyperbolic Harry, but this HAS to be one of the most surreal things I've ever seen for sale to the general public. It's this thing. Yea, I know. I feel like I should write more, but what more is there? I cannot top that.

*Unfortunately in our consumer testing this product was found to be unfun by the average person under the age of two and over the age of 102. Not sure why, but the public doesn't lie, God love 'em!

A-go-go

A-go-go

All that talk about a-go-going and they discuss neither go-go dancing nor George Michael being asked to be awakened before you head out for the dance hall? I've always been rather puzzled, however, how is allowing someone to sleep instead of awakening them to go dancing leaving them "hanging on like a yo-yo"? Which is why I could never be a song writer - I'd have the theme, I'd have the chords, I'd even have the hooks, but there would be two lines with no words where I couldn't think of anything to rhyme and I would never get it published.

"I got this great song, I think it could be a huge hit, but I really want the phrase 'go-go' in it, and can't think of a suitable rhyming phrase."
"Wake me up for you go-go."
"I really wanna see that drag queen Lolo."
"The scene tonight is better than so-so."
"Let's go on down to that club in SoHo."
"Maybe I'll get to dance with Han Solo."
"We'll probably see Curly, Larry and Moe Moe."
"I hope who's not out is the scary clown Koko"

Oops...I gotta go for breakfast (boy talka abouta screwy schedule)

Weald

Weald

I have a friend who "claims" to always get lost when it comes to my humour. He "claims" that he can't follow what I'm talking about. I feel kind of bad for him cuz it's not like I go outa myne way to do it. I can't help that that's how myne brain works. So anyway,* whenever he claims he's lost I'm going to ask that he refers to being "displaced in the weald of my neurons." I'm sort of wishing I had known this word a few months ago when I first started writing. I would've named myne blog This Weald of Neurons. That woulda gotten the traffic! Oh hell. Of course someone took it already.

OK fine, maybe they didn't name it quite that, but did you read it? Now that is a weald of thoughts in which to be lost! OMG! OMG! OMG! did you see under the LEGO section? We can all join the Laser Enterferometer Gravitational-wave Observatory (LEGO) project!! How cool would that be!? Worry not, I did the footwork and found that all we need to do is email this guy! I'm not really into LEGOs, but how fun would that be to become friends with a bunch of astrophysicists, go to their astrophysics conferences, talk about astrophysics stuff, and then build astrophysics stuff out of LEGOs?? Who says science isn't cool? Not me, that's fer sher!

*I think it's interesting when someone says "anyways" instead of "anyway." If they're using it to continue a conversation, does that mean they are going to go down multiple paths and we're just gonna hafta try to keep up? "Anyways, while I find your choking fit fascinating, Wendy told me that Benji was not the father of the baby, but I totally know he is. She's a skank and he's a douche. Debbie told me Branden totally cheated in his SATs and that's they only reason he got into college. But I know Benji wants to be the father even if he's not cuz he'll get more welfare. Branden went out the other night and got so trashed. I give him three weeks at college and he'll be back painting houses. If they'll hire him. They'd probably rather hire Wendy, like she'd ever do an honest day's work. Please. Debbie wanted to go to college, you know, but her father won't pay for it. She's so spoiled. Maybe Wendy's brother is the father." etc etc etc  

Affront

Affront

Hmmm, I wonder if I affront anyone with this blog. Oh wait, someone would have to read it to be affronted. But what I find interesting is how going out of one's way to affront others has become a daily online occurrence - at least in the U.S. of A. And like many other things, we can thank the interwebs for this. What did people do to feed their drama before the nets? I guess they watched the news and listened to Talk Radio, found out what they were supposed to be pissed off about, and then hung out with people that thought like they did and trashed the enemy.

They say that the internets are good because they're allowing the hard-core introvert to connect with people via the webs. I suppose that's true, but if you were a hater and an introvert before the 'nets you still had to leave your abode to share what you knew to be true with others. Now they don't even need to change out of their grungy low-hanging stretched-out at-one-time tighty whities. They turn on FOX, get the dish, go on-line, and blam! instant troll with an instant audience to bitch at about how wrong everyone is who thinks differently than they do.* But they don't go to Fox.com or where everyone is like minded. They go to YouTube or Yahoo or any news organization or, hell, even the IMDB. Why would you go on a message board for the new James Bond movie to bitch about an old James Bond movie?

So...I have a goal for myself and this here li'l blog o' myne.

In the 1979 movie The Rose Bette Midler's character is at a club with friends and she gets all excited because a drag queen is doing her onstage** (about the only thing I remember from the movie). To her, this is proof that she made it - when a drag queen lip syncs to a female singer, that singer knows she's made it. So the goal I have set for myself is to get a troll to say how much he hates me and my stupid blog. I'm not even funny! Why don't I get a life? (Lookit me, I'm so excited about the possibility of getting my own troll that I'm feeding him lines and he's not even here yet!)

Oooooh...I'm soooo excited I'm clapping with clenched hands!

*Which of course is idiocy, cuz everyone knows everyone's wrong who thinks differently than I do. (please)
**I meant imitating her, you trashy minded person.

Oriflamme

Oriflamme

I realize it's pronounced 'flam' and not 'flame,' but nevertheless, I feel like the definition should include a drag queen somehow. Or that I should at least be writing about a drag queen. 

I was gonna be a drag queen once - I spent hundreds of dollars on a new dress and a fitted wig and spent an entire afternoon at the Susan Posnick counter getting the perfect look. I was very excited because I was going to sing the National Anthem at the neighborhood t-ball game that evening. Well! I got to the park, bags in tow, and found that the community building was locked for remodeling!!

"What?" quoth I. "Where am I to change?"

Cripes. The only thing they had were port-a-potties!! Seriously - I'm changing out of my shorts into, oh here, I found a picture of it, and a wig and applying make-up in a port-a-potty?? Really?? Those things are freaking HOT!! I looked like I was crying eyeliner before I hardy even got it on!

Some wiseacre walked by and shouted, "Hey, if the Biffy's a-rockin', don't come a-knockin'!"

"Hey there, Mr Wisenheimer, instead of being a smart guy, you could come in and help!" 

And I'll be gull darned if he didn't!! Nice guy, too. But do you know how hard it is to move around trying to fit into a gown with two people in a port-a-potty? Try it sometime! Seriously, try it and get back me!

So anyway, I was able to get the dress on (barely!) and the wig and the makeup and I was just about to make my grand entrance (or perhaps in this case exit?) when I realized I had put on my stilettos without putting on my pantyhose!! Dammit!!

So I sit down, pull the shoes off, pull on the pantyhose and...

Uh, why do I suddenly feel like there are a thousand spiders crawling up and down my legs? Oh my god! Women actually wear these things? Atrocious, bad, baneful, base, beastly, calamitous, corrupt, damnable, depraved, destructive, disastrous, execrable, flagitious, foul, harmful, hateful, heinous, hideous, iniquitous, injurious, loathsome, low, maleficent, malevolent, malicious, malignant, nefarious, no good, obscene, offensive, pernicious, poison, rancorous, reprobate, repugnant, repulsive, revolting, spiteful, stinking, ugly, unpleasant, unpropitious, vicious, vile, villainous, wicked, wrathful, and just pain wrong accouterments! There was no way in hell (as it were) that I was leaving that port-a-potty with the spawn of Satan digging their odious fingernails of death into myne legs!! 

Screw it!

I ripped off the gown and the hose and the stilettos and threw back on my street clothes and left! Whoever used the potty after me got themselves some free clothes and makeup.

"Sing yer own damn National Anthem!" shouted I as I walked past all the kids lining up. Guess I told them. It wasn't until after I stopped at Target, the grocery store, and got home that I realized I had forgotten to take off the stupid wig.

Wiseacre

Wiseacre

How can you not help but love this word? I always figured, though, that Wiseacre came about the way "Homey" turned into "Homefry" and "Homeslice" - or at least, you know, in some circles where such words are uttered..

Since I've been writing this blog I've noticed that the really obvious words always come up dry for me. I mean, Wiseacre, you'd think I'd have all kinds of things to say and yet, no, I don't. What am I gonna say

"Hey, have you read myne blog? I'm sort of a wiseacre!"

Whatever, Daphne. Obviously you've read it, yer here now. Cheese.

Same thing happened a few days ago when Scarlet Pimpernel came up. The 'sband thought I'd have a field day with it! "Why?" you may query. Cuz for as long as the 'sband has known me, I've been dropping

"They seek him here,
The seek him there,
Those Frenchies seek him everywhere!
Is he in heaven?
Is he in  hell?
That damn'd elusive pimpernel!!"

But other than saying I like to drop it once in a while, I got nothing. For educational purposes, I'll let you know that while there have been several versions of the film made, being a geek, I like the old one with Leslie Howard.

Uh oh. I just realized that I inadvertently indoctrinated you into the esoteric and elite group that knows the Pimpernel poem. And as such, it is now your duty to drop it occasionally at parties and things - especially if it's dull and there's a lull. But be careful - you now have the ability to entertain like few others, but with it comes great responsibility. Be wise. Go forth.

"Share the poem."

Mettlesome

Mettlesome

Speaking of books, I ran across a little number entitled Sir Ashley's Mettlesome Match, which takes place during the Georgian period. That would explain the guy's haircut on the cover. On clicking the Look Inside!, I noticed that underneath the disclaimer about not buying the book if the cover is missing, which I've seen before, there was a Please Recycle symbol, which I have not seen before (at least not in books). Since the don't-buy-this-book-if-it-hasn't-a-cover warning is for the consumer, I can only assume that the recycling suggestion is for the consumer, also. I think if I had a book published and there was a Please Recycle! reminder on the credits page, I would be sad. I mean, really, I know that when one buys Harlequin one knows one is not getting high lit-trah-chah, but nevertheless.

"Won't somebody think of the authors?"

Speaking of Harlequin, I remember hearing (many years ago) that they had 12 new titles a month. I've been seeing a lot of different lines and imprints in used book stores,* and decided just now that I needed to see just how big Harlequin's become. Oh my. I have to admit, I was not expecting this. My fave, of course, I mean, how could it not be? is the NASCAR line. Who knew that mechanics and stock car drivers were such chick magnets? There are some where women are working right along side the men and this one where the woman has a more traditional role. FYI, in real life, there are four such cookbooks - three by men about grilling and tailgating, and this one.

Oh man, this could be one long entry if I don't stop clicking on links. From the Harlequin website:

"Harlequin Blaze is…The sexy situation in Friends with Benefits blended with the sheer romance of The Time Traveler's Wife."

Me: "Is The Time Traveler's Wife romantic?"
The 'sband: "No idea."
Look it up on IMDB
Me: "Why is the guy hanging from the ceiling?"
TS: "I think he just popped in from time traveling as she was getting ready to do a calf stretch."

I love my husband.

*When I mentioned all the different lines to the 'sband once at a store, the woman behind the counter asked me if I collected them. I had to disappoint her by saying I just liked looking to see what was out there.

Cerebrate

Cerebrate

Isn't this one of the types of angels that came down at - lo! - that first Christmas? the seraphim and cerebrate? Which would make sense since Michelangelo painted the Sistine Chapel with God in a brain. Oh, and there's one in God's neck, too. So the question then is, why don't we ever see those flying brains in nativity scenes at Christmas? We see all kind of seraphim, but never any cerebrate. If I were a cerebrate I would not be happy! Seems rather prejudiced, ifn* you ask me.

"Knock knock!"
"Who's there?"
"Why do certain angels like to go to certain wedding receptions?"
"I give up. Why do certain angels like to go to certain wedding receptions?"
"Because they like to...Cerebrate Good Times, Come On!"
"Wow, I did not know that! Does that have anything to do with YMCA?"
"Only that both are usually played at the same receptions. On the other hand, what does it say that YMCA is now danced to more often by straight people than gay?"
"That straight guys are now sporting fairy tails not knowing that they're signaling to the world that they're gay like in the '80s?"
"Tsk, you've heard it before."

*To the Russian bot that keeps checking for ways to hack my blog: 'ifn' is a colloquialism said by the same type of person who would say "Storm's a-brewin', Pa!" And as the 'sband can attest, I sometimes like to say "Storm's a-brewin', Pa" even when there's not a storm a-brewing, nor is my pa around. I just like saying it. "Storm's a-brewin',  Pa!" Whisper it. Now look at the person nearest to you and say it out loud - with emotion! Isn't that fun? As usual, you're welcome.

Tonsorial

Tonsorial

When I was growing up, the household shampoo of choice was Prell. People washed their hair fewer times back then because they usually lost a handful of it trying to comb out all the just-washed snarls. I used to be fascinated by the commercials where they dropped a pearl in a bottle of Prell to show how thick and rich it was.

They sold so much shampoo by dropping something into it that other companies picked up on the fad. I remember a Palmolive dish soap commercial where they wanted to drop in a kitchen utensil, but still show the bottle. Fine idea, but they dropped in a chop stick - during the '60s! During that time you show a chop stick and dish soap, the TV viewers kept waiting for the Asian cleaning woman to show up. So Ajax dish soap moved the liquid out of the bottle and into a tall bucket and dropped in the pitcher of a blender. People loved watching it settle to bottom of the clear liquid - sold like hotcakes. Undeterred, the makers of Joy used a tank and dropped in an entire counter-top mixer - base and all! Remember, the 60s, this thing weighed sixty pounds! People liked watching it sink to the bottom - the electric cord stretching overhead - but unfortunately by then the cycle was coming to an end, being replaced by the germaphobe ads that we have today.

7-Up decided to get in on the act, too. To show that their soda was clear and natural, they dropped in a lemon seed. Very effective. So Mountain Dew decided to drop something in their product. Since it's the color of...uh...sunshine...they couldn't think of what to drop, but decided to go with the whole mountain theme and dropped in a pine nut. Yes, I know, but they tried. And considering Euell Gibbons was the only person in the US of A eating pine nuts during the '60s, this was risky. Unfortunately for RC cola, they didn't have much of an advertising budget and couldn't get beyond the Dew commercial, so theirs was a glass container with their soda into which they dropped a pine cone. Really, guys, a pine cone? Not only did the choice of dropped item not make any sense, the cone was kept aloft by the carbonation. They tried it without the carbonation but even when the weighted cone did finally sink, you couldn't see it through the caramel color. Go figure.

The dropped item to end all dropped items (literally) in advertising was when Tide tried dropping a kid wearing dirty clothes into its laundry detergent. Remember, this was the 60s and all laundry detergents were powder, so when they dropped the kid from the crane, he landed with a thud and just laid there. He decided to improvise and tried to swim around in it, but ended up just sneezing from it getting up his nose. They spent $14M on that commercial it never even aired. The share holders were not happy!

But I don't care what anyone says. While watching things sink is fun, you don't need to drop things to be effective. You just need Ann Miller and Busby Berkeley.*

*The commercial was for Heinz, not Campbell's.

Gimbal

Gimbal

I'm proud to announce that this is the 100th Touched in the Grey Matter blog entry! Sometimes I can't believe that so many interesting things are going on in my life that I can write true and accurate reports on a daily basis.

Anyway, because of this milestone, I'm very excited to write a few words about 'gimbal.' It reminds me of one my first dates with the (now) 'sband where he and I went to an ethnic restaurant. I played it safe and got the satay platter with chicken and pork, but the future 'sband said,

"I'll have the Resep Gimbal Mi."
"Wow," thought I, "a continental!"

So the next time we went out, I said, "I'll have the taco dengan ayam."
Both the 'sband and the server looked at me like I had dropped the F-bomb or something.
"I'd like the taco dengan ayam," I repeated more slowly. (I was going to say it louder, but heard that doesn't really help - go figure.)
The server: "Are you saying some sort of taco?"
"Well, I guess if you want to be pedestrian about it, yes, with chicken." I looked at the future 'sband. "I was saying it in Malay...can't she speak the language?"
"This is a Mexican restaurant. They don't speak Malay in Mexico."
"Fine," quoth I, "what's Spanish for 'taco'?"
"Taco," returned he.
Oh, crap. What fun is that?
"I'll have the number 24. And a jarry-toe soda."
"Ummm...OK...a Jarritos soda, what flavor?"
"Red."
"Coming right up."

You know, no matter how many languages and words exist for the same thing in the world, when it comes to artificially-flavored sugary product, "red" is universal. I love that!

Spoonerism

Spoonerism

When I first saw the word I thought it had to do with cuddling with another person. Or perhaps the language used in discussing it, like slang - spoonerisms, as it were.

Speaking of which, when I was growing up, Saturday morning was inundated with Hanna-Barbera cartoons. I found them entertaining, but even as a kid I knew the animation was pretty cheap and shoddy. However, nothing produced by them could hold the caverbial prondle to Clutch Cargo. Not only is it the worst animation ever, it's just plain super creepy to watch. Not sure how many times I actually watched it as a kid - I barely remember it - but thank goodness for Youtube. Bad animation and fabulously offensive to boot - what could be better? The other clip I was thinking of linking to had a character named Swampy. I'm thinking it was a nickname. I mean really, who would name their kid Swampy??

Deep-six

Deep-six

Wow, needless to say, if yer dirty minded, yer brain went somewhere not quite to what the definition is. You know who you are.* So, when you ask someone about their relationship and they say they were deep-sixed, remember, it may not be something to be happy about.

Those crazy leadsmen and their crazy slang, tho! Makes me wonder if they had a special term for every foot of water

- Shallow water
- Mark twain
- Triple plunger
- Waste high
- Fingers galore
- Six deep
- Lucky seven
- Eight it yesterday
- No-way nine
- Big fat hen
- Leavened 'leven
- Apostles at dinner
- Joined by Jesus
- Mary made it
- Sans a foot
- Pushing twenty
- Old enough for me
- I can kill but I can't drink
- College boy thinks he's so freaking cool reading his stupid poetry and philosophy and crap. I'd liked to see him work like a real man for once.
- Dos equis
- Let's party!
- Dos dos equis

I could do this all day, but I got the biscuits on. It's amazing, tho, how so many different slang terms became universal. Did I ever tell you who my favorite sailor was in Peter Jackson's King Kong? I did? Well, I do write this five times a week - it's not like I can remember everything I ever write!!

*I should hope so. If you don't know who you are, how could anyone else? Unless you have amnesia and everyone is telling you that you are the brother of Jake who was just kidnapped by his evil twin brother after Jake broke up Carly and Sam because he knew that Sam didn't actually love Carly but just went after her because Sam was going to get in good with the family and bring it down from within. Unless yer that person, you know who you are.

Plage

Plage

Wow, did you see how to pronounce this word? "plahzh." "hzh"?? "plah-zzz-hhhh." Or perhaps "pla-hhh-zzz-hhh." Or "plah-heee-zeee-heee." Next time the 'sband and I go to a resort to just hang out on the beach (cuz we're soooooooo into it), I'm gonna say to the front-desk dude,

"Hold my calls, I'm going to the plah-heee-zeee-heee."
And then we'll both laugh and he'll wag his finger at me, "I know what you're saying! You're a very funny man!"
And then we'll laugh some more. And as I leave the lobby he'll pull out his little pocket mirror and comb and ensure that his perfectly waxed mustache is neat and proper.

Yeeeeeeeeeeeeeees, that's just a glimpse of the whimsical good times you'll have on holiday with us this winter at the first annual Cruise With Bloggers who Average One Hit a Day! I have booked the entire Freedom of the Seas for a two-week cruise from December 20, 2012 to January 3, 2013 for the cruise of a lifetime! Throughout our two-week cruise you'll hear panel discussions from bloggers on how they are able to crank out an entry on a daily basis knowing that it will be seen by an average of one person. Plus, there will be insider discussions from the fan of these marvels of nature who will discuss how they feel knowing that, on a daily basis, a writer puts his/her heart and soul on the line - all for the enjoyment of him/her. And don't forget our fabulous ports of call! Sydney! Honolulu! Tokyo! Newark! Oslo! Paris! Africa!

As of this writing I have no idea who these fellow writers and fans are, I mean, hell, it's not like I read any of them, but I'm sure we can round some people up. So you don't forget, book now!! Rooms are limited! And with the thousands of blogs that get a hit day, once word gets out, watch out!!

Florid

Florid

My, color me confused! When I first read this, I thought the word was "fluoride"! Some words do have a wide variety of meanings, but to be a flowery style and a divisive chemical compound was getting me a mite confused!

So then I'm thinking to myself, I'm thinking

"Self," I'm thinking, "we need to write this entry in a florid manner and really let myne reader know of what I am capable!"

And then I realized that the only big words I know are "odious" and "asthmatic," and neither of those is particularly impressive. You know how you can plug in a statement and have it translated from one language to another? They should have that for different levels of speaker. There would be "common," "eloquent," "verbose," and "PhD." And then, once they got those in place, they could get more esoteric: "homey," "drag queen," "corporado," "lumber jack," "redneck," "techy geek," "romance novelist," "groupie," "docent," "ombudsperson," etc etc etc.

Ombudsperson. Now there's a weird word. Same with Registrar. When I first saw those two words on the doors of offices, I thought they had to have just been made up on the spot. I'll bet when pirates retire from life on the seas they try to become registrars.

"Thank you for calling the office of the registrrrrrrrrrrrrarrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr."

After the call...

"I'm sorry, Mr. Beard, we're going to have to..."
"Please, call me Blue."
"I'm sorry...Mr. Beard...we're going to have to let you go."
"Arrrrrrrrrrrr...What? Why?"
"Your call times are double what they should be because of the elongation of your 'R's."
"Arrrrrrrrrrrrre you sure?"

I would continue, but you can see where this is going. Excuse me, I have to go brush my teeth now.

Yawp

Yawp

So the 'sbanToday's Touched in the Grey Matter is being preempted so we may present to you a new and different blog:

TOUCHED IN THE YAWP MATTER.

THAT'S RIGHT, TOUCHED IN THE YAWP MATTER IS WRITTEN COMPLETELY IN UPPER CAPS SO YOU CAN SEE THAT WHAT I HAVE TO SAY IS IMPORTANT AND THAT YOU MUST LISTEN TO WHAT I HAVE TO SAY BECAUSE IT'S IMPORTANT!!

AS A FOLLOWER OF MICHELE BACHMANN, I HAVE TO SAY THAT I AM SHOCKED - SHOCKED! - THAT FIRST THE HOMOSEXUALS TRIED TO TAKE OVER, AND THEN THE MUSLIMS TRIED TO TAKE OVER, AND NOW THERE ARE HOMOSEXUAL MUSLIMS THAT ARE TRYING TO TAKE OVER!! THERE'S EVEN A MOVIE ABOUT IT!

WHAT'S NEXT? HOMOSEXUAL JEWS? HOMOSEXUAL BLACKS? HOMOSEXUAL BLACK JEWS?? HOMOSEXUAL BLACK JEWS GETTING MONEY FROM THE NATIONAL ENDOWMENT FOR THE ARTS?? HOMOSEXUAL BLACK JEWS GETTING MONEY FROM THE NATIONAL ENDOWMENT FOR THE ARTS WITH A GLASS EYE?? IS THAT WHO YOU WANT RUNNING THIS COUNTRY? HOMOSEXUAL BLACK JEWS GETTING MONEY FROM THE NATIONAL ENDOWMENT FOR THE ARTS WITH A GLASS EYE??

UNLESS YOU, TRUE STRAIGHT WHITE AMERICANS (NOT THE CANADIAN KIND WHERE THEY THINK EVERYONE SHOULD HAVE HEALTH CARE AND MARRIAGE EQUALITY) TAKE CARE, THIS IS WHO WILL BE RUNNING THIS FINE UNITED STATES OF OUR AMERICA: HOMOSEXUAL BLACK JEWS GETTING MONEY FROM THE NATIONAL ENDOWMENT FOR THE ARTS WITH A GLASS EYE!! WATCH THE SKIES!! WATCH THE SKIES!!

We new return you to Touched in the Grey Matter already in progress.ng commando?!?!

*Or more than once if yer lucky!!

Oops!

Oops!

Yea, I know that's not the word of the day. Unfortunately our internets are down at home (someone will call me back). I will be back tomorrow with new and even more interesting insights into this thing called life.

Sorry...boy talk about throwing off my whole day...

Welkin

Welkin

Oh, boy, an opportunity for more adventures in hot-air ballooning! Not really.

Speaking of welkin, I'm thinking I'm gonna take up lawn bowling just so I can wear these cool shoes. They come in sizes eight and nine, so what else do you need? It's nice to know that golfers aren't the only people who wear ugly clothes. I remember when I was 16, I was gonna take up golf. I got the clubs, the course membership, got signed up for lessons, and my mom gave me a first-day-of-golf present. I opened the box with high expectations, and was greeted with a 100% polyester Tony Soprano-style golf shirt. It was white with pink and brown horizontal pinstripes with the added luxury of palm tree silhouettes going around it. When I put it on and tucked it in, the trees appeared to be growing out of my pants.* I looked at my mom and said


"Giiiiiiiiiirrrrrrrrrrl, I don't think so!"


You know, when you come from a conservative/traditional family like mine, it's never a good idea to call your mother "giiiiiiirrrrrrrrrrl."

So three weeks later when I was able to leave the house again, I took the shirt back to Fleet Farm, but they wouldn't take it because mom assumed I would love it and had thrown away the receipt and pulled off all the tags. So it's been hanging in my closet ever since. I took it off the hanger once three years ago and tried it on. It still fit because the only sizes Fleet Farm sold in golf shirts was XL and UL.** I was going to wear it to a party where people always dress in pink and/or lavender, but by now the shoulders had been stretched to where it looked like I was trying to hide a couple of 45 RPMs under there. So I put it back in the closet. The 'sband wants me to just get rid of it, but I can't - it was a present!

*That's what he said! Or not.
**Uber-Large. Go figure.