Crunchy

Crunchy: (adj) crisp or brittle.

Here I go again, bathing in the acid of honesty.

I don’t know why I do this. I could lie to you. You’d never know. It isn’t like you’re trying to vet me for government service.

I could deceive you like crazy.

But for some reason, I’ve settled in on this “schtick” of candor.

Truthfulness.

Honest, even if it makes me look a little dumb. Because I will tell you right now, looking a little dumb is better than lying and looking a lot dumb.

I don’t like crunchy things.

I just don’t.

People like their cereal crunchy.

Not me. I let mine sit around until it drowns, and the coroner arrives to confirm that it’s fully floppy and dead. As a kid, I often ate other children’s cereal they had rejected—“because it wasn’t crunchy anymore.”

Maybe that’s the root cause of my obesity. At least it would be fun to blame it on that.

I don’t like crunchy chicken.

You know—what they call “extra crispy?”

My French fries can be a little crispy—but if they’re a lot crispy, doesn’t that just mean they’re burned?

And I never got the idea of a crunchy candy bar. Has anyone ever tasted a Milky Way? No crunch anywhere. Just ecstasy.

I don’t like crunchy.

I will eat peanut brittle—only because I know that on the thirteenth chewing in my mouth, it turns into that delicious peanut butter paste I love so much.

Crunchy crunches.

And crunching is not a positive word. (Just consider your car.)

I don’t like to put my teeth into a reluctant apple. I know it sounds silly, but when an apple insists on being crisp and crunchy, I feel it’s just resistant to being eaten. Sometimes it even adds a sour disposition to match the crunch.

I have no criticism for people who like crunchy things, but my philosophy is, if you find yourself in the middle of the crunch…

Just pour on more milk and wait awhile.

 

funny wisdom on words that begin with a C


Subscribe to Jonathan’s Weekly Podcast

Good News and Better News

 

Coated

Coated: (n) a layer of covering

I, for one, appreciate and enjoy the candy coating on my aspirin.

I know it’s just a brief whiz-by of sweetness, but it keeps me from tasting any of that aspirin flavor that sticks in the back of your throat and makes you cough.

It’s just damned considerate.

This crossed my mind about twenty years ago, but I didn’t really do anything about it until last year. (Sometimes it takes nineteen years to work up the gumption to follow through on one of your own pieces of brilliance.)

But twenty years ago, I thought to myself, the problem with human relationships is that they aren’t candy-coated.

We walk around with some adult, grown-up notion that things should be nasty, and the more bitter they are the better it is–because we’ll end up with such a great, complaining story.

It wasn’t until last year that I realized that this applied to me. I was waiting for somebody else to put it into practice. But then I sat down one afternoon and realized that I am sometimes hard to swallow:

I can be bitter

I can be nasty

I can be sour.

And the truth of the matter is, my responsibilities require that I use candor and truthfulness to get the job done. After all, can there be anything worse than a writer who’s a liar–which may force him to write more lies later?

Yet there are human ingredients of sweetness that can be added to truth, so that we can feel love as we embrace reality.

May we never lose kindness.

May we never forget the power of being gentle.

May we always take into consideration a sense of humor.

And certainly, may our daily lives be blessed by the power of apology and the simplicity of a thank you.

Donate Button

Boyfriend

j-r-practix-with-border-2

Boyfriend: (n) a male companion with whom one has a romantic or sexual relationship.

Certain words should have an expiration date, similar to milk at the grocery store.

Without this warning, these phrases can turn sour or just downright comical.Dictionary B

Last week at a stop-off in Battle Creek, Michigan, a seventy-eight-year-old woman introduced her male companion to me as “her boyfriend.”

I tried to be good, tolerant and let it pass, but that little imp in me who refuses to be proper, jumped in and inquired, “Did you guys meet at the malt shop?”

What was hilarious was that she gave me an answer.

“Actually, Starbucks,” she deadpanned.

It seemed right.

Starbucks is the new malt shop … where girls apparently find boyfriends. 

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


 

Don’t let another Christmas season go by without owning Jonathan’s book of Christmas stories

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

Only $5.99 plus $1.25 shipping and handling!

An advent calendar of stories, designed to enchant readers of all ages

“Quite literally the best Christmas stories I have ever read.” — Arthur Holland, Shelby, North Carolina

Only $5.99 plus $1.25 shipping and handling.

"Buy

 

 

 

Aalto, Alvar

by  J. R Practix

dictionary with letter A

Definition of Aalto, Alvar (1898–1976), Finnish architect and designer; full name  Hugo Alvar Henrik Aalto. He often used materials such as brick, copper, and timber in his building designs to blend with the landscape. As a designer he is known as the inventor of bent plywood furniture.
Come on. The dude has four names. Let me give you a scale on numbers of names:
People who go by one name are divas. Beyoncé. Kermit. God.
Two names: Hard-working folk. John Deere. Jack Daniels. Martha Stewart.
Three names: Serial killers, authors and mascots. John Wayne Gaycee, Henry David Thoreau, Smoky the Bear.
But four names or more?  Really?? Fruitcake. And I don’t mean any disrespect.
Also, what’s the big deal about blending into the landscape? Isn’t that what cavemen did? “Hey, look, Buck! There’s a hole in this rock. We can live inside there without changing the landscape or ambience!”
And by the way…bent plywood furniture?? I have done that many times–just by sitting on it suddenly.
I’m sure Mr. Aalto is a nice guy, and probably came up with his own idea on how to blend things together…ala Reece’s Peanut Butter Cups and army intelligence. But if you ask my opinion, making furniture out of plywood is what causes many young married couples to end up purchasing living room suites that wear out long before the payment stops.

Aardvark

by  J. R Practix

dictionary with letter Aaardvark: a large, nocturnal, burrowing mammal, Orycteropus afer, of central and southern Africa, feeding on ants and termites and having a long extensile tongue, strong claws and long ears.aardvark

Let me get this straight. Aardvark is just a really fancy, British way of saying “anteater.”

I once thought about eating my aunt. Actually, it was an assignment in my sociology class. Our teacher posed the question: if you were stuck on a desert island with your family and you were starving to death, which member would you eat first?

I decided it couldn’t be my mother. Let me not get into the reasons.

My father would be tough and taste like cigarettes.

My little brother would be an option, but it would take days to wash him off.

I thought about my uncle, but I didn’t want to eat him because he’s humorous. At least that’s what my parents said–he was a “funny uncle.” I was nineteen years old before I realized he did not own a comedy club.

I decided the best option was my Aunt Mary, even though I feared she would be a bit sour. You could always sweeten her with sugar, add a dash of cayenne pepper and the flavor would be tolerable.

I also noticed that aardvarks have long noses, but they do keep them to the grindstone instead of poking them into the air. Of course, it would be hard to be superior if you had really big ears and a really long tongue.

No, I guess if I had to, I could be an aunt eater–not the little black bugs, though. Wouldn’t they try to sting you on the way down as their last protest to being consumed? I’ll have to go over to England and ask an aardvark sometime.

Now I know what an aardvark is. It’s a funny looking creature with its head hung low, embarrassed over its appearance which likes to eat ants with its long tongue.

Good information. Just be careful discussing it too much, or it conjures a very unpleasant vision … of family dinner.