Wordsmithing

Here's another hack of a post, but it was particularly entertaining given that I'd had received it while dealing with persons 2. and 5. for much of the day.

The Washington Post's Mensa Invitational once again
invited readers to take any word from the dictionary, alter it by
adding, subtracting, or changing one letter, and supply a new
definition.

Here are the winners:

1. Cashtration (n.): The act of buying a house, which renders the subject financially impotent for an indefinite period of time.

2. Ignoranus : A person who's both stupid and an asshole.

3. Intaxicaton : Euphoria at getting a tax refund, which lasts until you realize it was your money to start with.

4. Reintarnation : Coming back to life as a hillbilly.

5. Bozone ( n.): The substance surrounding stupid people that stops bright ideas from penetrating. The bozone layer, unfortunately, shows little sign of breaking down in the near future.

6. Foreploy : Any misrepresentation about yourself for the purpose of getting laid.

7. Giraffiti : Vandalism spray-painted very, very high

8. Sarchasm : The gulf between the author of sarcastic wit and the person who doesn't get it.

9. Inoculatte : To take coffee intravenously when you are running late.

10. Osteopornosis : A degenerate disease. (This one got extra credit.)

11. Karmageddon : It's like, when everybody is sending off all these really bad vibes, right? And then, like, the Earth explodes and it's like, a serious bummer.

12. Decafalon (n.): The grueling event of getting through the day consuming only things that are good for you.

13. Glibido : All talk and no action.

14. Dopeler Effect: The tendency of stupid ideas to seem smarter when they come at you rapidly.

15. Arachnoleptic Fit (n.): The frantic dance performed just after you've accidentally walked through a spider web.

16. Beelzebug (n.): Satan in the form of a mosquito, that gets into your bedroom at three in the morning and cannot be cast out.

17. Caterpallor ( n.): The color you turn after finding half a worm in the fruit you're eating.

The Washington Post has also published the winning submissions to its yearly contest, in which readers are asked to supply alternate meanings for common words. And the winners are:

1. Coffee, n. The person upon whom one coughs.

2. Flabbergasted, adj. Appalled by discovering how much weight one has gained.

3. Abdicate, v. To give up all hope of ever having a flat stomach.

4. Esplanade, v. To attempt an explanation while drunk.

5. Willy-nilly, adj. Impotent.

6. Negligent, adj. Absentmindedly answering the door when wearing only a nightgown.

7. Lymph, v. To walk with a lisp.

8. Gargoyle, n. Olive-flavored mouthwash.

9. Flatulence, n. Emergency vehicle that picks up someone who has been run over by a steamroller.

10. Balderdash, n. A rapidly receding hairline.

11. Testicle, n. A humorous question on an exam.

12. Rectitude, n. The formal, dignified bearing adopted by proctologists.

13. Pokemon, n. A Rastafarian proctologist.

14. Oyster, n. A person who sprinkles his conversation with Yiddishisms.

15. Frisbeetarianism, n. The belief that, after death, the soul flies up onto the roof and gets stuck there.

16. Circumvent, n. An opening in the front of boxer shorts worn by Jewish men.

Return of the netball junkie

Another cold cold night, zero out, and what I'm wearing would, quite frankly, shock my mother. (Only because IT'S COLD.) Which brings me to want to examine the awesomeness that is social netball:

1. Work grief. What healthier way is there to vent your rage at an incompetent colleague than by exacting physical punishment on yourself and everyone else in an enclosed space

2. Tactile addiction. The dimpled, slightly tacky surface of a ball in all its size 4 rubberized glory

3. Court plays. The glorious satisfaction of all those clever 1-2s that see the ball hurtling down the court

4. Court markings. The familiar lines that divide this sometimes manic, overbearing world into 5 neat, controllable segments.

5. The swoosh of the ball as it catches 'nothin' but net'

3. Winning.

Reconnecting: world, here I come!

After concluding rather stressful negotiations for an upgrade with the moneypinching entity that is O2, I finally received my new bb and it hasn't left my hand since. I'm like a new parent, jumping at every single buzz and blinking light, managing the boyfriend's gentle stirrings of resentment. Now that I have a connection on the go, I finally understand twitter and that texting and walking is still ill-advised. Reconnecting with all the friends and family scattered across the globe has totally been worth early warning signs of carpal tunnel.

I've downloaded every conceivable chat platform known to man AND run out of people to harass online, so here's one of the last to-dos on my list: resurrect the blog.