Defecate: (v) to void excrement from the bowels

It is rather embarrassing how often I am proud over defecating.

I think some explanation is in order.

But then again, what could be more pleasant than being relieved?

Having something growly and bouncy in your bowels that suddenly decides to evacuate, leaving behind a minimal amount of clean-up work, is certainly divinely inspired.

And even if the cleanup work is a bit excessive, it is not beyond the pale, and is well worth the effort.

There are times when the actual process is a bit grim, if not gruesome.

But still, all in all, the memory left behind is kind and filled with such contentment that you could never say there was any lasting dissatisfaction.

No, I will tell you that defecating rarely has to apologize. There are those rare occasions when it hangs around too long, becoming overwrought with diarrhea, when its presence might be considered annoying.

But damn, if that whole procedure doesn’t have its charm.

So here’s to defecation.

The process that grants us evidence of both its need and its beauty.


Blues: (n) a melancholic music of black American folk origin

Dictionary B

For a very, very–and dare I say, very–brief time, I ran the sound and light system for a blues club.

I was offered the opportunity because one of my sons was the chief engineer, and he needed a couple of nights off, so he generously afforded me the doorway to pick up a few extra bucks.

I had two nights of training, and even though I have a nearly passable understanding of electronic equipment, it was immediately obvious to me that I was out of my league. Not only was I an anachronism to the atmosphere of the institution, but the inadequacies of my working knowledge of the sound and the lights soon became apparent to everyone.

Also, listening to blues music two nights a week for four hours certainly does not leave you “in the pink.”

Blues music is a constant lament that “life is not fair” and “women need to find their place” and realize that men are superior. It is also self-indulgent in the use of the instrumental solo, trying to simulate anything from tooth extraction to orgasm.

After a while, the mingling of my disdain for the repertoire and my ineptness behind the board made it necessary for the head of the band to reluctantly approach my son and ask him to courteously and gently fire me as quickly as possible.

Although my fine offspring tried to be consoling, I was so relieved by being relieved that I’m afraid I showed my relief.

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by J. R. Practix

dictionary with letter A

Abs: (n.) the abdominal muscles

I was so relieved.

I cannot tell you how worried I was, especially when I was seeing people like Brad Pitt, Ryan Gosling and even a bunch of women on the movie screens, all of these individuals possessing this strange conglomeration of a knotty formation right in the middle of their stomachs, which now is commonly referred to as a “six-pack.”

I was a little concerned mainly because I did not have anything resembling this particular formation.

But I was informed by my doctor–or at least I interpreted this from her words–that I was just not born with them. Isn’t that terrific? Because if that were NOT the case, it would mean that I was lacking in some way or that it was necessary for me to learn how these outstanding specimens of physical health had achieved these configurations. But as it turns out, I do not possess the ability to acquire this.

(Now, what my doctor really said was, “You’re so fat that the muscles can’t be seen.” But I realized that she was just sending a subliminal thought to me, and I translated to, “Relax, Jon. You have other gifts besides abs.”)

For you see, my friends, we can spend our lives lamenting our lack or celebrating the party being thrown in our heads. I am overjoyed to know that by God‘s design, I am abless.

Where some people have a six-pack, God, the Father has given me … a refrigerator.