Tag Archives: chomp

Chomp

Chomp: (v) to munch or chew vigorously

Sometimes I think my body is working really hard to kill me–but other times I feel a sympathetic pang streaming from my consciousness,
wishing me well. I don’t know if either is true or if one is actually more prevalent than the other.

But as I get older, I don’t “chomp” as much. It’s been years since I’ve used the phrase “chow down.”

Especially over the past week, recovering from a stomach virus, I realize that my internal organs have very little interest in food. It is my brain that is completely obsessed by the notion.

So when sickness comes along and makes the brain calm down, the stomach has the opportunity to be very picky about what comes through the door. Over the past couple of days, I feel like there’s a bouncer stationed at the end of my “food tube,” kicking out the riff-raff.

First and foremost, I find myself chewing slower, giving my belly the chance to adjust to the idea that soon there will be a visitor.

Now, I do realize that within a few days I will be completely well and the brain will once again insist on more chomping. But for this moment, it is very intriguing, and also cuts the calories.

Could I ever learn to not be a chomper? A fascinating question.

Perhaps I could learn to eat like a kid. They take a bite or two, leave the table and run, and come back and take another bite or two. Not much chomping there.

So I guess the best thing I can say is, I’m kind of chomping at the bit to find out if I can chomp a little less at the table.

.Donate Button

 

 

 

Barracuda

Barracuda: (n) a large, predatory tropical marine fish with a slender body and large jaws and teeth.Dictionary B

Some things are creepy:

  • Rough toilet paper
  • Bratty babies
  • And big fish with teeth

As intimidated as I may be by a shark, a barracuda is really bone-chilling.

I guess it’s because I like the idea of fish who gum their worms instead of fish who bite my leg.

Matter of fact, I almost refuse to think about it.

If it weren’t for the Wilson sisters and the rock band, Heart, I would never have allowed my brain to think about “barracuda.” And the word only became tolerable as Ann Wilson cooed it out as a seductive come-on in their hit song.

I don’t know why it sounds sexy to me–that a woman would be a barracuda–but I guess there’s just enough perversion within my being that having a lady chomp on me seems erotic.

I know.

I’m crazy.

But I don’t think I’m alone, because they sold … a lot of records. 

Donate Button

Thank you for enjoying Words from Dic(tionary) —  J.R. Practix

*******************
Don’t let another Christmas go by without purchasing Jonathan’s bestselling Christmas book!

Mr. Kringle’s Tales … 26 Stories ‘Til Christmas

Click here to read all about Mr. Kringle's Tales...26 Stories Til Christmas! Only $5.99 plus $1.25 shipping and handling.

Click here to read all about Mr. Kringle’s Tales…26 Stories Til Christmas! Only $5.99 plus $1.25 shipping and handling.

 

“The best Christmas stories I’ve ever read!”

From the toy shop to the manger, an advent calendar of Christmas stories, beginning on November 30th and ending on Christmas morning.

We need a good Christmas this year.

Mr. Kringle’s Tales will help you make it so.

Buy today.

"Buy

 

 

 

Alligator

Words from Dic(tionary)

dictionary with letter A

Alligator: (n) a large semiaquatic reptile similar to a crocodile but with a shorter head, native to the Americas and China.

Sometimes I think my brain is really bizarre–and then my actions confirm it.

When I saw today’s word, “alligator,” for some reason, the old rock-and-roll blues song, Polk Salad Annie, came to mind. Now most of you probably don’t even remember this 1970 tune, but it was sung in a gravelly voice by Tony Joe White, and had one great line, where he enthusiastically piped:

Polk Salad Annie, gator’s got your granny

Chomp, chomp.

Can you beat that? It doesn’t matter if I’m watching a show on Animal Planet, or merely hear the word. This song comes to my mind and I giggle–which of course, makes people stare at me. After all, an alligator crawls out of the swamp to eat flesh.

I also think of what used to be called Alligator Alley in Florida before it became an Interstate. I drove it one time in a very small car called a Fiesta Ghia. As I crept along in my little four-cylinder wonder machine, sitting in the middle of the road was about a four-foot long alligator, who had apparently taken a wrong turn at the last marsh. I tried to go around the gator, but I think he thought my car was small enough for a winnable attack.

So every time I moved, he chased me. I didn’t want to run over him, mainly because the car might have lost the battle.

By the grace of God and all things natural, this creature was suddenly distracted by some other sound or sniff from the nearby creepiness and waddled away. But I have often wondered what might have happened if he hadn’t.

Perhaps: “Gator got my fanny. Chomp, chomp.”