If you’re proud as a dog with two tails that your snugglebunny can run as fast as a bald-headed chicken-fucker, then you’re very proud that your significant other can run very fast. On the other hand, if you’re happy as a dead pig in the sunshine that your cuddle-monkey is worm food, then you’re very happy that your significant other is dead.
Just once I’d like to eat somebody’s liver without a fine Chianti.
I haven’t heard anyone say “since Christ was a corporal” since Christ was a cowboy.
Euphemism-watchers had an uber-orgasm when Justin Timberlake described Janet Jackson’s Super Bowl peek-a-boob routine as a “wardrobe malfunction,” but I wondered if those two deceptive-yet-delicious words would fade from the collective vocabulary. Well, no need to worry. Google locates 60,600 hits for the term, and it’s included on Paul McFedreis’ excellent Word Spy site, along with hundreds of other new-ish words like “Bridezilla,” “gorilla snot,” “extreme beer,” and “Viagra divorce.” Another sign that a term is catching on is the creation of similar terms, like an accidental thong-a-thon by Miss Universe being described as a “skirt malfunction” and Serena Williams explaining a fashion decision as being due to an “earring malfunction.” Heck, I guess it may have been a “footwear malfunction” when I wore a shoe and a sneaker to work last week, but when I took my pants off and swung around that pole, I have to admit I was just stripping.
If a basketball groupie played tonsil hockey with a soccer mom, how soon would they get to second base?
Here’s an expression that sounds obscene, but isn’t: “putting the goat in the garden.” (It means put someone in a position to do damage—letting the goat guard the garden is like letting the Enron executive run the company). And here’s a euphemism that doesn’t sound obscene, but is: “Putting Barney in the VCR.” (To use the language of South Park this means “putting the hoo-hoo-dilly in the cha-cha”).
For the love of pancakes, when is a band going to use the name “Painful Burning Feminine Itch” or “Erections Lasting Longer Than Four Hours”? How long, oh Lord, how long must I wait?
There are a lot of insults based on friendly dining suggestions like “eat shit,” “eat my shorts,” and “go eat a bag of dicks,” but few commands of this type are as explicit and disturbing as this old chestnut (roasting in hellfire, I presume): “Go to hell and eat rats off the devil’s pitchfork!” I don’t have much to say about this one, but I do have a few non-linguistic opinions about rats: Not all rats are evil, rat-faced, disease-spreading denizens of the sewer or hell. I have a pet rat named Yoda, and he can walk on his hind legs, pull a shoelace hand-over-hand, sit on my shoulder, and maintain a sunny disposition despite his mammoth testicles. He also has the ability to look very, very cute at all times. (I have another pet rat who has some issues, but never mind). Rats are not all the same. Keep an open mind about rats. We now return to your regularly scheduled programming.
Speaking of rats, have you ever heard the expression “hotter than two rats fucking in a wool sock”? How about this one: “They’re fighting like two possums in a sack.” I’ve heard George Carlin refer to a pair of huge, unrestrained breasts as “two puppies fighting in a paper bag.” What’s going on here? I wonder if there’s some kind of built-in universal-comparison-thingy in our brains that can’t resist metaphorically throwing two of the same animal in a soft container of some kind. Have you ever heard any expressions that fit this pattern? If so, please write me—I’ll be waiting as patiently as two goliath bird-eating spiders in a pillow case.
Dishes that are best served cold: revenge, ice cream.
If all the “faces” were replaced with “feces,” Amazon.com would sell books with these titles: Five-minute Feces, Carving Realistic Feces With Power, Men in Green Feces, The Girls With the Grandmother Feces, Josh’s Smiley Feces: A Story About Anger, The Many Feces of John Kerry, Till We Have Feces: A Myth Retold, The Nine Feces of Christ, The Seven Feces of Philanthropy, The Two Feces of Islam, Feces at the Bottom of the Well, Young Feces of Holiness, Feces of America, Feces of Fernando, and The Hero with a Thousand Feces.
The words of the week:
Though I will someday buy the farm, pick up my harp, meet the reaper, answer the last call, walk the prank, bite the big one, kick the bucket, feed the fishes, cross the great divide, climb the golden stair, take a dirt nap, go the way of all flesh, shuffle off this mortal coil, cash in my chips, wear a Columbian necktie, awake to life immortal, join my ancestors, lay down my knife and fork, and kick the oxygen habit, I hope I will never baste the formaldehyde turkey.