#3. Diphthong. Diphthong. Diphthong.
A word so ballsy it doesn't even come close to demonstrating its own meaning despite a surplus of idle letters.
I make a point of creating social situations in which 'diphthong' is not only a propos, but rather expected. Yes, I'm very talented.
Come on. You see it and you just want to say it aloud. It makes you want to twist your mouth into trying new maneuvers. Do you pronounce the 'ph' or just the 'p'? Say it both ways. Say it ten different ways. If you're using this word, I'm sure you have the time.
Showing posts with label favorite words. Show all posts
Showing posts with label favorite words. Show all posts
Monday, May 26, 2008
Thursday, February 14, 2008
Favorite words
#2. Sneeze.
Essentially what I think has come to define American convenience--ease packaged in a tin* and served with a convulsion at mach 0.85--has been preserved through clades of speciation for us, and even refined into the cataclysmic fit of warmth and happiness that it is now. I can only hope that every so often you feel the peppery tickle at the base of your forebrain that is the overture to the spicy Pompeii of nasal schmutz to be ejected out of your face faster than Bill Clinton can spell (but not define) 'is'. Indeed, to stifle the sneeze is patently un-American.
For such a beautiful word to signify such sublime (if brief) rapture is nothing if not heady congruence.
When I sneeze--or even contemplate the word--I forget about the war, waterboarding, torture, warrantless wiretapping, Guantanamo, steroids,** the CIA videotapes, Dick Cheney's man-sized safe, and George W.'s college transcript...***
Just for a split-second.
J'oublie tout. Tellement, je me sens que je jouie.
* Do you remember your periodic table?
** People who say 'roids' should be injected with 50 g of methylprednisolone and left in a TB ward for 6 weeks.
*** I could go on, but I've just sneezed.
Essentially what I think has come to define American convenience--ease packaged in a tin* and served with a convulsion at mach 0.85--has been preserved through clades of speciation for us, and even refined into the cataclysmic fit of warmth and happiness that it is now. I can only hope that every so often you feel the peppery tickle at the base of your forebrain that is the overture to the spicy Pompeii of nasal schmutz to be ejected out of your face faster than Bill Clinton can spell (but not define) 'is'. Indeed, to stifle the sneeze is patently un-American.
For such a beautiful word to signify such sublime (if brief) rapture is nothing if not heady congruence.
When I sneeze--or even contemplate the word--I forget about the war, waterboarding, torture, warrantless wiretapping, Guantanamo, steroids,** the CIA videotapes, Dick Cheney's man-sized safe, and George W.'s college transcript...***
Just for a split-second.
J'oublie tout. Tellement, je me sens que je jouie.
* Do you remember your periodic table?
** People who say 'roids' should be injected with 50 g of methylprednisolone and left in a TB ward for 6 weeks.
*** I could go on, but I've just sneezed.
Wednesday, May 9, 2007
Favorite words
#1. Juice.
Say it. Juice. Say it. Say it. Is there a better word? I submit that there is not. Juice. It's practical. Who doesn't like juice? Unloved-middle-child-immoral-sociopath-backstabbing-blasphemous-no-heart-having-hater-being-limited-wit-dry-mouthed-type people, that's who.
Juice is sensual. Bathe it with some saliva and caress each letter with your tongue. Jjj. Ooo. Oh. Oooooooossssss. Cradle it. Let it tickle your lips. Taste it.
Besides the viscous-warm tenderness I feel dripping down my hair, face, and neck, teasing things that I like to get teased every time I say 'juice,' juice also happens to be the fluid of life. It is by the wisdom of God that there is some kind of juice inside every living thing and also in some inanimate things. That we happened to give the divine solution a name that electrifies my spine is pure serendipity. It is, therefore, my number one favorite word of all time. Ever. For now.
If you don't like juice, you are disrespecting the Lord.
Say it. Juice. Say it. Say it. Is there a better word? I submit that there is not. Juice. It's practical. Who doesn't like juice? Unloved-middle-child-immoral-sociopath-backstabbing-blasphemous-no-heart-having-hater-being-limited-wit-dry-mouthed-type people, that's who.
Juice is sensual. Bathe it with some saliva and caress each letter with your tongue. Jjj. Ooo. Oh. Oooooooossssss. Cradle it. Let it tickle your lips. Taste it.
Besides the viscous-warm tenderness I feel dripping down my hair, face, and neck, teasing things that I like to get teased every time I say 'juice,' juice also happens to be the fluid of life. It is by the wisdom of God that there is some kind of juice inside every living thing and also in some inanimate things. That we happened to give the divine solution a name that electrifies my spine is pure serendipity. It is, therefore, my number one favorite word of all time. Ever. For now.
If you don't like juice, you are disrespecting the Lord.
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