Corvette

Corvette: (n) brand name for a type of sports car made by Chevrolet

I think the correct term for it is “urban legend,” although, since I grew up in a town of only fifteen hundred people, it may be a rural legend.

When I was a boy there was a man-made lake near our town which had several back roads along the banks, which were often impassable funny wisdom on words that begin with a C
because they were covered with water if the lake was particularly bloated by rains.

I was familiar with the roads because sometimes it was fun to go down them to park with your lady, or to scare your girlfriend because it was so spooky at night. (Everyone knows that teenage lasses who are frightened are much more susceptible to romance.)

On one of these roads, a gentleman took his 1969 bright-red Corvette Stingray, parked it, took out a shotgun and blew his head off.

It did no physical damage to the car whatsoever, so after he was removed and the remaining parts of him were cleaned out, his family tried to sell the car. The problem was, it was nearly a week before anyone found the body in the car, so the stench of the corpse had settled into the upholstery, and it was necessary to pull out all the seats, the dashboard, and start from scratch. They did this, figuring it would still be cost-effective to sell the automobile.

But even after all the fastidious effort, the smell of the dead man’s remains lingered—because a Corvette is made of fiberglass and is much more porous than metal. Therefore, it retained the stench.

Try as they would to deodorize, they were unable to get the odor out of that beautiful red Corvette.

It had to be junked.

I was present for this event, but I would understand if you wanted to question the authenticity or validity of the tale, and I do realize that at this point I should come up with a moral for the story or a clever closing for this essay, to make you yearn to come back for more.

But the best I can muster is, if you’re going to kill yourself, don’t do it in an expensive sports car, because no one will be able to “vette” your stink.


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Corsica

Corsica: (n) an island in the Mediterranean, Southeast of France.

I don’t know a lot about Corsica.

I am not going to insult you by looking up a few details and making it seem as if I’ve done an exhaustive study. After all, the purpose of these funny wisdom on words that begin with a C
essays is to give you my immediate, often ignorant, and sometimes humorous take on the words of the dictionary as they stumble out in order.

I know one thing about Corsica—it’s the birthplace of Napoleon.

I don’t know whether Corsica would advertise this. Napoleon is an enigma. If you study him as a general, a leader, or even as a French Emperor, he may be considered one of those overly zealous tyrants who come along every once in a while to shake things up and let us know that we need to be on the lookout for “rampagers.”

But in many ways, Napoleon Bonaparte was an Adolf Hitler without the compulsion to kill off Hebrews. He took advantage of the French Revolution, leaving the Francos trying to imitate the Americans, and ending up with a “spaghetti mess.”

He stepped in, established his authority, claimed himself to be the leader of the Holy Roman Empire incarnate and even took the crown from the hands of the priest who was trying to coronate him, and placed it upon his own head.

Thousands and thousands of people from Africa, to Asia and all across Europe were killed because of this man’s desire to conquer.

So intent was he on paying for his wars and ongoing struggle with the English, that he ended up selling the United States—from the Mississippi River all the way west to the Pacific Ocean, in a deal dubbed “the Louisiana Purchase.”

He sold it for pennies, even though it was not his land, and it belonged to countless tribes of Native Americans, who were not privy to the deal and received no remuneration.

But that was Napoleon.

I do believe, even though the average Corsican is probably willing to claim Napoleon as a son of their land, that the smart ones have discovered not to follow in his violent manner.


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Corsair

Corsair: (n) a pirate, especially formerly of the Barbary Coast

When they attack our ships, they’re pirates. When we hire them to attack the ships of our enemy, they’re buccaneers, or corsairs.

I just had to giggle when I saw this today.funny wisdom on words that begin with a C

There were so many pirates who aided the early American league of states in the pursuit of freedom, that I am not sure we would have been nearly so successful without them.

The pirates were a rowdy, bawdy group, willing to fight anyone as long as they could rebel against the establishment and the ships they were targeting had plenty of bounty.

In our American history books are quite a few pirates who sided with us against the British, and therefore, we considered them to be swashbucklers instead of thieves and murderers.

For history is written by those who survive the wars, and the pirates were very happy to help our young country, although I’m sure they had no sense of our destiny, but instead, were curious about what was being hidden on British ships.


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Corsage

Corsage: (n) a small bouquet worn at the waist, on the shoulder, or the wrist of a woman

I, for one, am thoroughly convinced that the only purpose we have as individual human beings is to discover ways to avoid the humiliation that often befalls us as a collective.

I don’t know why life, Mother Nature, creation—well, take your pick—has put together systems supposedly natural, which are so unnatural when put into funny wisdom on words that begin with a C
practice.

I don’t want to get graphic, but just the means by which we dispel our waste through bowel movements, and then trying to uncover a dainty process for not appearing absolutely gross while doing it and finishing up is a good example. Remember the lesson? “Take this flimsy piece of tissue paper in your right hand and reach around into your butt crack and clean yourself but make sure you don’t use too much of it or it will clog the toilet, but just enough that your hands can be used again for interaction with other souls.”

Sometimes I think God used the Earth and human beings more or less as an experiment, or maybe even a practical joke—and that somewhere in the Universe there is a new and improved human race which doesn’t have to deal with—shall we say?—natural humiliations.

This came to mind when I saw the word “corsage.” When I was in high school, I went to a prom and purchased such a flower at our local florist, who provided two long pins along with the arrangement, so that the man (in this case, me) could pin the corsage onto the young girl’s dress when arriving to pick her up for the date.

Is there anything that I just described that seems natural or sensible to you? It especially became horrifying when I walked in the door and realized that my date was bare-shouldered, and the place to pin said corsage was up near her precious bosom, which certainly did not need probing in front of her parents, especially with two sharp objects in my hand.

But it was all part of the fantasy.

The parents were standing by with their cameras, gasping, looking for a Kodak moment. The young lady I was taking to the prom had no more experience on this issue than me, so she stood by praying, lamb-like, pre-slaughter.

Somehow or another, I was able to get the pin stuck through the dress and into a little corner of the stem of the flower, where it somewhat dangled from her dress like low-hanging fruit.

I stepped away, greatly relieved that it was attached and that I was detaching.

Fortunately, as years passed, someone came along, admitting the horror and the potential blood-letting of the moment in adolescence, and invented a corsage with Velcro, which hooks onto the wrist—did you hear me?—the wrist of the girl—and doesn’t require prickly points.

Now isn’t that smart?

Couldn’t we perhaps have skipped a step and gone to something like that to begin with instead of tempting the fates, the gods or the fumbling hands of a teenage boy?

Even though the corsage question seems to be handled, I still break out in a cold sweat every time I see one, frightened that some old person in the crowd will shout, “Hey! Just for old time’s sake, why don’t you pin it on her?”


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Corrupt

Corrupt: (adj) lacking integrity; crooked

Corruption thrives because there are too many people looking for it instead of admitting it.

That’s the truth.

As long as I spend my life believing that what is corrupt would never exist in me or being unwilling to consider the possibility, I will become somebody else’s corruption.

Corrupt is what we should be looking for in ourselves so that when we find it, we can correct it before it corrupts us further, and makes it obvious to those around us that we are corruptible.funny wisdom on words that begin with a C

But somehow or another, there is no sin or evil that looks quite as bad when I am sporting it. I can only truly see what is corrupt when you are wearing it.

Therefore, self-deception keeps us all living in a world of perpetual corruption—because altering someone else’s foul behavior is nearly impossible.

What would it take for us to understand that finding what is corrupt inside us will stop us from being labeled as evil?

Do I really think that I will convince the people around me that I’m incapable of corruption? Certainly not.

They’re looking for it in me.

They’re waiting for me to sprout the horns of the devil.

They aren’t horrible—they just want to be sure they aren’t the horrible ones, and the best way to keep yourself from being tagged as wicked is to hunt down witches and point the finger in a direction far from where you are.

When my name is mentioned in front of many people in this world, smiles come to their faces, and maybe even some tears of appreciation. But as God is my witness, I will tell you that to others on this planet, I was corrupt.

I will spend the rest of my life making sure that as often as possible, this is in the past tense and not a clear and present danger.


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Corroding

Corroding: (v) to eat or wear away gradually as if by gnawing, especially by chemical action.

At one time I adopted (or maybe adapted) three extra sons into my household.

It was a inspiring feeling—the sensation of helping these kids out, but also the pride that came from doing something out of the box, which funny wisdom on words that begin with a C
other people “oohed and ahhed” over because of its nobility. (That’s who we are–a mixture of possibility mingled with ego.)

Well, back to my story.

I wanted to make sure the young fellows were comfortable, so in a fit of generosity, I decided to buy them little candy bars which I could hand out after meals as desserts. The candy wasn’t that expensive, and I knew they would look forward to having one after enduring the latest green bean surprise.

Here was the problem: every time I went into my pantry, there were fewer and fewer candy bars. It was not due to the fact that much time had passed, and many meals had corroded my supply.

No, I was being pilfered.

There was someone in the home who was taking more than his fair share of what I bought out of tender loving care.

It created two problems. First, there were fewer candy bars than there should be, and unless I purchased more, we would run out before the end of the week. Secondly, if I didn’t get to the bottom of who was copping the treats, I would buy more and inadvertently feed the addiction to both chocolate and deceit.

So even though I felt foolish, I realized that the greatest corrosion in the situation was the breaking of trust and allowing one or more of the young men to believe that taking what was not offered is acceptable, and not stealing.

It was painful.

I think the third degree went on to the fourth and fifth degree and the inquisition took at least four hours.

Finally, one of the young men broke down, in a reaction that landed somewhere between tearful and enraged over being trapped and admitted that he was the one who snatched the sweets. It was ugly. It is always ugly when something of value begins to corrode and it becomes necessary to trace where the attack is coming from.

But because the young man admitted he was the one, I was able to continue to buy candy bars, and trust that the other two fellows would watch him like a hawk—to protect their prize.Donate Button


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Corroborate

Corroborate: (v) to make more certain; confirm

There are those final moments at the end of a heated argument when two or more people stare at each other, exhausted from trying to outwit one another, realizing that life needs to go on, yet all the debaters are suspicious of exactly how that could happen.funny wisdom on words that begin with a C

Human beings are the most fragile, yet indestructible, organisms ever conceived.

We can have our bodies shot with radiation to kill cancer.

People have fallen out of fifteen-story windows, landed on cement and survived.

Yet one foolish accusation or ill-placed assumption can render us emotionally paralyzed, unable to continue without years of therapy or medication.

What is it that causes us to believe that disagreements, which are plentiful, are somehow or another insurmountable?

There may be only one thing that aids the survival of the human race: a single action placed at just the right time after we have failed, cursed, stumbled, lied, cheated, argued and even threatened violence. It is the stillness which often comes over the soul and allows a moment of heartfelt reflection.

At this juncture we realize that the best way to confirm what we hope, what we are or what we believe is to stop fussing and go out and find a way to corroborate it.

  • Cease wishing; begin to work.
  • Stop praying and instead, produce.
  • And fail without becoming a failure.Donate Button

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