Tag Archives: pussy

Dang

Dang: (v) euphemism for the word damn 

Added into the anthology of my journey through the ridiculous and sublime is a one-hour class I was required to sit in on when I was a sophomore in high school, with the subject being, “Better Choices.”

According to the principal, there was an outbreak of bad language in the school, and he wanted to explain how frustration could be handled with much more grace, using terms that, although meaningless, were also unoffensive.

I don’t know how this man knew there was a plague of naughty talk all over the campus.

I think he was fuckin’ stupid.

But speaking of that word, three suggestions were made for when the inclination might rise up to use the word “fuck.”

  • “Fudge.”
  • “Forget it.”
  • And “feathers.”

Now, I don’t know how one was supposed to restrain the tongue from spitting the original gem, substituting the new language, but the instructor explained that if it was accomplished and sweeter sayings could be offered, then it was generally regarded among the American populous that your morality was immediately deemed honorable, and you gained at least thirty IQ points.

Shit was shoot.

Goddamn was golly.

Ass was bottom.

Bullshit was baloney.

Dick was private areas.

Pussy skipped vagina and went to lady’s parts.

And of course, damn was dang.

At the end of the session, four students were called up to do a demonstration, with the first pair using the foul words and the second pair, the more respectable lingo.

They probably could have gotten through the whole class without too much ridicule–but it was really a bad choice to do the demonstration. All the gathered students hooted and howled with the ala natural dialogue, but not nearly as much as they squalled in laughter over the dainty terms, which seemed as awkward as a Baptist family having an audience with the Pope.

Because of that forum, I have never used the word dang.

I don’t think that was the goal.

So I apologize to the educators.

Cheesy

Cheesy: (adj) cheap, unpleasant, or blatantly inauthentic.

Wow, did you read that definition?

I guess Webster was really loaded for bear against “cheesy.”

Blatantly inauthentic?? Well, that would mean that each one of us would actually know or be acquainted with what is authentic.

We are not.

Everybody has their own taste in “cheesy.” (Please forgive that offering.)

In other words, if you go to a fundraiser, fighting some disease, they will drag all sorts of pitiful people in front of you to tell their stories of debilitation to
establish the need for contributions. This is not considered cheesy because…well, I guess because it is trying to help sick people.

Traveling on the road, I see a myriad of local TV commercials which try way too hard to be entertaining while inserting inordinate amounts of information in a thirty-second capsule. I might consider them cheesy, but the people involved would just declare them a “sales strategy.”

Sometimes I go to church and they bring the children’s choir up to sing “Jesus Loves Me,” as the adults feel compelled to ooh and aah, or say “Amen,” or worst of all, stand for a cheesy ovation. But it’s not really–it’s our kids, after all.

But then something comes our way that we are not invested in, is not our livelihood, and did not come from our loins, and we suddenly turn into critics, calling it maudlin, silly or cheesy.

Everyone is fully aware that without reaching the human heart, it is unlikely that you will impact our race. And what touches our emotions is rarely deep or convoluted. No, it’s some sort of kitty-cat video, where the little pussy runs across the frame chasing a bit of string and suddenly runs into a wall.

We giggle, embarrassed, and then repent by whispering, “Be careful, little kitty…”

The human race is cheesy. We are moved by the simplest of sentiments and absolutely baffled by complex interpretations.

You can feel free to act aggravated or high-falutin’ when you see something that yanks on your feelings, trying to pull you in the direction of glee or tears.

But without these gentle reminders of goodness and wonder, we become animals, growling at each other across the rain forest.

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Acclimate

by J. R. Practix

dictionary with letter A

Acclimate: (n) to become accustomed to a new climate or new conditions.

When I started traveling across the country to see first-hand what CNN and Fox News only partially cover, I would arrive in a new area and finding myself stopping up in my nostrils or developing a sore throat. People explained to me that what was happening was that my body was “acclimatizing” to the climate because there was some sort of pollen, dust or air mite which I was not accustomed to, aggravating my sinus cavities.

It really sounded pussy.

Even though I am glad there is a word called “acclimate” and I sure the process does go on, still–proclaiming that we need to acclimate to anything is like announcing that “we plan on pursuing breathing today.”

I think when I finally got fed up with the notion that my nostrils were wussies and passed on the knowledge to my brain that they needed to buck up and stop being so snotty, I ceased needing to have a box of Kleenex next to me just because I landed in Albuquerque.

Yet I would have to admit that for most human beings, if you removed all dialogue, discussion and interchange about their “acclimatizing to circumstances,” most of them would appear to be deaf-mutes. It seems to be one of the more interesting topics in the human family. As we sit around and discuss things that are well beyond our control, in the purview of the natural order and usually irreversible, inserting our feelings about their existence is downright ridiculous.

For instance, I do not comprehend what a discussion about the weather achieves on any level. I am neither intrigued, frightened nor impressed with “Storm Watchers” who appear on my TV screen in some frantic mode, foretelling that rain is coming, and with that could be hail, lightning and maybe even “tornadic activity.”

Nature has been doing this for a long time, and therefore is quite professional. WE are the amateurs, and the sooner we become aware of the inevitability of rain falling on the just and the unjust, the quicker we will restore our peace of mind.

So even though I know a certain amount of acclimatizing is necessary, I would rather not discuss it.

I think the only ongoing joke in heaven is the angels and God giggling uncontrollably over human beings thinking their opinions really matter.