Saturday, January 31, 2009

Tastyx

Tasty.
Styx.
Tastyx.

It might be delicious, but it's probably best to avoid drinking from the river that brings you to the underworld, unless you're literally dying of thirst and you'll end up there anyway.

Hades.
Desperate.
Hadesperate.

Achilles got dunked in the river, and see what eventually happened to him...

Achilles.
Lesson.
Achillesson.

So, if you must drink river water, try one that doesn't border the land of the dead.

Mississippi.
Sippy-cup.
Mississippy-cup.

Cherubimbo

Cherubim.
Bimbo.
Cherubimbo.

A pretty dumb angel.

One who doesn't know whether there should be a comma between "pretty" and "dumb," or how that would affect the meaning of the phrase.

Ambiguity.
Guidelines.
Ambiguidelines.

One who doesn't eat angel food cake to avoid being a cannibal.

Careful.
Foolish.
Carefoolish.

One who stands on your shoulder to whisper advice into your ear but faces the wrong way, thus only allowing the devil's message through.

Guardian.
Diablo.
Guardiablo.

One who would forget where his halo was if it weren't attached.

Shining.
Nincompoop.
Shinincompoop.

Juggernautistic

Juggernaut.
Autistic.
Juggernautistic.

An unstoppable savant.

Rain Man on PCP. Or crack. Or acid.

Acid Rain Man.

Machopsticks

Macho.
Chopsticks.
Machopsticks.

It's difficult to look tough while eating with chopsticks.

Not like eating with a knife and knife, where you can totally intimidate your food through aggressive posturing.

Confucius actually declared this the reason to use chopsticks--to avoid equating dining with anything violent.

Violent.
Lentils.
Violents.

Of course, being stabbed through the heart with a chopstick seems even more vicious than using a knife.

Which is why Confucius never got much backing from the vampire lobby.

Nor the environmental lobby, as an estimated 90 billion chopsticks are thrown away per year, which comes out to approximately 25 million full-grown trees, or who knows how many bonsai trees.
(Probably all of them.)

Sounds pretty aggressive to the trees.
And what non-violent tools are they using to cut down these trees?*

That is, however, only when chopsticks are made out of wood.
They can also be created from bronze or other metals, plastic, ivory, or bone.
(Depending what wedding anniversary you're on.)

Wooden.
Denied.
Woodenied.

Ivory or bone?
There we go, much less violent.
e.g. "Pronged utensils are too aggressive!
Now, let's take down that mammoth and use its tusks to make instruments of tranquility!
Also pull out its skeleton, that will also come in handy on our mission of peace!"

Which also brings up the question, what tools did they use to bring down such creatures and extract the bone and ivory?*

Weapon.
Pontification.
Weapontification.

It actually turns out that they only use the bones and ivory from VAMPIRE elephants.
And violence against the undead is universally accepted.
Even by Confucius and environmentalists.
By everyone.

(Everyone except the vampire lobby, of course.
But they couldn't make it to the meeting to voice their objections, as their elephant transport had gone missing.)



* Answer: martial arts, which is technically self-defense.
Totally acceptable.

Friday, January 30, 2009

Platomic

Plato.
Atomic.
Platomic.

Describing what seems like the ideal form of a relationship, but then blows up and you're just friends.

Like if you play "When Harry Met Sally" backwards.*

Philosophy.
Sophisticated.
Philosophisticated.



* Also, Sally is played by Socrates.

Socrates.
Tease.
Socratease.

Heavenison

Heaven.
Venison.
Heavenison.

Where dead deer go.

At least, if they're good.

Bambi.
Bye.
Bambye.

Waiterse

Waiter.
Terse.
Waiterse.

Waiting tables is a hard job.
Sometimes servers will be in a bad mood, and you might not get to be friends with them.
Here are a few ways you can inject some fun into the waitstaff-customer interaction:

1) When your plate is empty and it is clear you are done, point to the plate (where there is no food, remember?) and ask if you can get it wrapped up.*
2) If they ask "Will there be anything else?" say "No," and if they say, "Just the check then?" say "No, not that either." **
3) Tip very well. ***


* One time I did this, and the server was so tickled that she handed the plate to another server and told HER to have it wrapped up.
It was beautiful.

** One time I did this, and the server was so tickled that she brought me the check right away.
And she kept a straight face the whole time. She was good.

*** This one works on everyone, not just food service workers.
Throwing money around is fun for everyone.
As long as you stick with bills.

Money.
Neato.
Moneato.

Trojanitor

Trojan.
Janitor.
Trojanitor.

The guy who had to clean up after the horse.

(Smelly job.)

Greek.
Reeked.
Greeked.

Bootlegos

Bootleg.
Legos.
Bootlegos.

Wanted: illegal children's toys.
Last seen in the shape of a pirate ship.

Taboo.
Booty.
Tabooty.

Blistanbul

Bliss.
Istanbul.
Blistanbul.

In the past day, this blog got a dozen hits from the nation of Turkey.

Turkey.
Keyed Up.
Turkeyed Up.

And that was before the phrase "Ottoman Empire" was posted just moments ago.
Imagine the traffic that will inspire.

Ottoman.
Manifold.
Ottomanifold.

Also, one hit came in from Belgium in the past day.
Let's pick it up, Belgians. Turkey is kicking your ass.
Tell your friends to put down their waffles and French fries (look it up) and represent.

Belgium.
Umpteen.
Belgiumpteen.

Dilapelated

Dilapidated.
Elated.
Dilapelated.

Radio Shack is still in business as Circuit City is going under.
A shack defeats an entire city?
See what you can do when you keep your overhead low, and your facility tiny and run-down?

It's happened before.
The Cheesecake Factory destroyed the arrogant Pastry Palace.
Pizza Hut beat out the spiffy Spaghetti Estates.
Dress Barn* took down Fancy Pants Mansion.
The list goes on... **
Even in the Bible, the sad sack King David defeated the elegant Goliath.

Now, this post was originally going to be about a crappy DVD player that Radio Shack sold me; and the fact that to get a new one from the warranty company I would have to mail the defective player back even though trapped inside of it was a DVD I own that's worth half of what the DVD player costs to begin with; and the fact that if I broke the DVD player trying to get it out the warranty would be voided; and my eventual victory over that situation by taking the DVD player apart, removing my DVD, and putting it back together without damaging, experiencing the masculine pride of not breaking something that I've so often heard about, in an alternate version of the small Jew defeating something larger than himself...

But then I thought of the phrase "Fancy Pants Mansion," and nothing else seemed to matter.


* In doing research for this post, I came across a list of business names that included both "Dress Barn" and "Dressbarn Woman," separate businesses.
Finally, a place specifically designed for WOMEN to buy dresses. Sexism is coming to an end, my friends.

** If you'd like...
The Sunglass Hut ruined the Visor Kingdom.
Pottery Barn conquered the Ceramic Castle.
Burlington Coat Factory won out over Burlington Coat Cathedral.
Crate and Barrel outlasted the Nice Room Filled With Crates And Barrels.
The, um, Furniture Igloo... defeated the Ottoman Empire.
(Actually that empire was done in by the failure of its own economic structure.)

And there are a few exceptions, like I don't know where White Castle fits in.
But by and large, you get the idea.

Dragonorrhea

Dragon.
Gonorrhea.
Dragonorrhea.

This may include a burning sensation, due to actual fire being excreted.

Though there may be no symptoms at all, due to dragons not existing and all.

(Other than at Loch Ness, of course.)

Nessie.
Syphilis.
Nessiphilis.

Thursday, January 29, 2009

Doppelganger Management

Doppelganger.
Anger Management.
Doppelganger Management.

Don't freak out if your evil twin wreaks havoc on your life.

Getting mad never solved anyone's problems, except for the Hulk.
But remember that it also created new problems for him as well.

Sure, it solved the issue of bullets hurting him, but what about the trouble of how many pairs of pants he had to buy? Or steal, probably.

Of course, if he didn't turn into the Hulk and got shot with bullets, he would probably bleed all over his pants and need new ones anyway.
(Along with the rest of a suit to be buried in.)

So, to sum up:
Don't freak out, unless you're the Hulk.
Then it might be okay, but still likely a mixed bag.
(Maybe try to solve your problems with science first. Be smart.)

Banner.
Nerd.
Bannerd.

Igloopy

Igloo.
Loopy.
Igloopy.

What you'd be if you lived in a house made of cold.

Eskimo.
IMHO.
EskIMHO.

Gopheroic

Gopher.
Heroic.
Gopheroic.

Groundhog's Day is coming up.
A burrowing rodent* can save us all from more winter
(if you believe in that sort of magic**).

Burrow.
Rodent.
Burrodent.


* Gophers and groundhogs actually differ in a few key ways that don't affect my life or this blog post: size, aggression level, number of natural predators, ability to swim, whether they hibernate, and when they breed, for example.

Knowledge.
Education.
Knowleducation.

They don't differ in relevant ways that I've already mentioned (they're burrowing rodents).


** In which case, why not just ask Santa for a shorter winter?
e.g. "I'm dreaming of a white Christmas, and then an immediate spring."

Winter.
Terminated.
Winterminated.

And if you've been bad, then he brings you coal instead, and you use that to warm yourself up.

Win-win.
Winter.
Win-winter.

Odork

Odor.
Dork.
Odork.

The latest in geek perfume, perfect for the roleplayer on the go:
Eau d'orc.

Famousy

Famous.
Mousy.
Famousy.

Are there any mousy celebrities?
Can you be famous and unassuming?

Googling "famous and mousy" yields no results.

The first person who comes up in a search of the two words without quotes is Kate Middleton, girlfriend of Prince William.

And that's only in an article entitled, "Paris Hilton: 'I'd Date Prince William if He Dumped Mousy Kate Middleton."

So, being mousy has an advantage: it can keep Paris Hilton at bay.
Who knew?
That's her Kryptonite.

(Don't take this analogy too far.
It breaks down almost immediately, as Paris is neither a man, nor super.
Though she does seem nearly invulnerable.)

Powers.
Worst.
Poworst.

Infinitpicking

Infinite.
Nitpicking.
Infinitpicking.

This might have been a perfect name for the blog.*

I have been called a nitpicker.
But technically, is that what I am?
I don't believe the term necessarily applies, precisely.

Though I suppose it all comes down to what one considers a nit.
And one's definition of picking.
And whether those two concepts come together appropriately such that the compound applies.

Furthermore, how often must those circumstances align?
Does picking one nit a nitpicker make?
Does one bike ride make you a cyclist?
Does one cigarette make you a smoker?
How about two? Three? A hundred?
(A hundred cigarettes probably keeps you from being a cyclist.)

How many nits have to be picked?
One blog posting full?
How about two? Three? A hundred?

Regardless, even if I do pick nits, that is not all I do.
Clearly, I also quibble, I examine, I critique... my schedule is full and varied.

So, while there may be some nitpicking to be found in my life (which is an open book, which I am constantly editing), my identity is not rapped up in so doing (and I will correct anyone who thinks otherwise).
Ergo, I am (provably) not a nitpicker.
And certainly not one of the infinite variety.


* The concept of infinity actually would seem to make the title slightly less than perfect, technically.
Though the longer this post continues, the closer to infinite it gets, and the more infinite it certainly seems and feels.

You be the judge, if you'd like to take issue with my assessment and pick the nit of my nitpickery.

Arbitrate.
Traitor.
Arbitraitor.

Wednesday, January 28, 2009

Bazookay

Bazooka.
Okay.
Bazookay.

The second amendment, in shorthand.

Tabascone

Tabasco.
Scone.
Tabascone.

A hot breakfast.


Please note, however, that fun with spelling should not be your first priority in an actual recipe.

Parachutensil

Parachute.
Utensils.
Parachutensils.

The ultimate Swiss army knife can cut up your dinner AND save you from a plane crash.

And if the other passengers don't survive the plane crash, there's your dinner.

(Hopefully you're flying with some cattle*, and not just packed in there like them with a South American rugby team.

Veal.
Alive.
Vealive.

Look, this one works both ways:

Alive.
Veal.
Aliveal.)


* As a vegan, I'd still rather see cows eaten than other humans.
Unless the humans are jerks.
Which they probably are.
Okay, now I want the cows to survive and have to eat the humans.

(I presume that if they were capable of activating the parachute, the utensils should prove no harder.)

Globituary

Globe.
Obituary.
Globituary.

When the earth dies, where will you read about it?

Certainly not in the Daily Planet, unless Superman keeps the paper going longer than the planet that it's named for.

Paper.
Perish.
Paperish.

And what will be the cause of death?

Probably global warming, but not the global warming that's slowly upping the temperature until the whole planet is one big beach.
(Or one big ocean with one tiny beach, at least.)

Swimwear.
Earth.
Swimwearth.

More likely the global warming that the sun emits when it explodes and takes out the whole solar system, including our new beach.
(Perhaps a better name would be global heating.)

Explode.
Ding ding ding!
Exploding ding ding!

Geographylum

Geography.
Phylum.
Geographylum.

Phylum can mean a large group of languages that are related.
Geography can mean geography.

At least one person from each of the following countries is related to the large group of language known as this blog:

Spain.
India.
Spaindia. (Famous for the running of the sacred cows.)

America.
Canada.
Americanada. (Land of the free and home of the bacon.)

Venezuela.
England.
Venezuengland. (With even rainier rainforests.)

Japan.
Netherlands.
Japanetherlands. (Where assisted hari-kari is legal.)

Brazil.
Singapore.
Brazingapore. (Clever combination of these two cultures. I need to learn more.)

(And those last ones are a stretch, I know.
Though "Brazil" could have been spelled "Brasil" like it is there.
That would have made it more logical, but also taken away the "zing" at the end.
Either way, it's better than the original rough draft version:

Singapore.
Brazil.
Sing. Uh... Poor Brazil.)


Thanks to everyone from everywhere for reading.
Let me know if you're from somewhere else, or from nowhere else, or neither. Or both.
Especially if you can't read. Then thanks even more for being here.

Ubiquitous.
Illiteracy.
Ubiquilliteracy.

Decentennial

Decent.
Centennial.
Decentennial.

Celebrating a rich history of the past ninety-nine exciting posts with a new, less exciting one!

Hundred.
Redirection.
Hudredirection.

Onward and upward!

Imagine.
Inertia.
Imaginertia.

Catastropheromone

Catastrophe.
Pheromone.
Catastropheromone.

Being attracted to someone's beautiful aroma on the outside, which lures you into being trapped with the ugliness that resides within their being.

Scent.
Entrails.
Scentrails.

(Their entrails smell nice. The internal stench is only figurative.)

Metaphorical.
Calamity.
Metaphoricalamity.

Geneticklish

Genetic.
Ticklish.
Geneticklish.

It must be.
But why?

What evolutionary advantage is there in the ability to giggle when someone touches you?
And not even the happy kind of giggling.
More the rage-inducing kind.

Apparently, it's a useful adaptation that goes back to when sabre-toothed tigers would tickle cavemen.*
The ensuing caveman rage would enable them to survive, of course, by focusing that anger into the domestication of the tigers, as seen in any reality TV show featuring cavemen.**

Domestic.
Cats.
Domesticats.

So if anyone ever tickles you and you get mad, just pet them and they're yours.
And that's how science works.



* Tigers would only tickle the male cavepeople, let's say, to avoid the awkward usage of the word "cavepeople" as much as possible.

** e.g. "Pangaean Idol"
"Top Chef Before Fire Existed"
"America's Next Top Caveman"
"Who Wants to Be a Guy With a Big Stone?"
(That is caveman currency equivalent to $1 million today.
In fact, given the markets, a stone might be worth even more now.)

Taftermath

Taft.
Aftermath.
Taftermath.

A president got stuck in his bathtub.
After word got out of that, how much must his credibility have been shot?

I think I would rather not be famous, if the choice is to famous for being that fat.
I'd rather be a nobody than President Bathtub.*

Cellulite.
Leader.
Celluleader.


* So far, wish granted!
Though, with the modern technology that exists now, a fat president could probably afford liposuction. Or a larger bathtub.

And I don't really think of myself as a nobody. I'm more of a whoever.

In conclusion, my wish is to be somewhere in between a nobody and a fat president.**

Genie.
Neither.
Geneither.


** Maybe a fit comptroller.
("Comptroller" is a real word, but looks like one I could have made up, combining "computer," "troll," and maybe "controller" for good measure.
So to clarify, my goal is to be a controlling, computing troll who is in good shape.)

Polygraphorism

Polygraph.
Aphorism.
Polygraphorism.

Is it true, as Lenin stated, that "A lie told often enough becomes the truth"?

Yes, especially if he didn't really say it.

Yes.
Especially.
Yespecially.

Roleplayoffs

Roleplay.
Layoffs.
Roleplayoffs.

Even dungeon masters are feeling the pinch of this recession.

Tuesday, January 27, 2009

Stomachinations

Stomach.
Mach 3.
Stomach 3.

You eat so fast.

Stomach.
Machine.
Stomachine.

People think there's a robot inside you.

Stomach.
Ache.
Stomache.

It hurts.**


* The Mach 3 razor has taken a bit away from the majesty of going the speed of Mach 3.
e.g. "How fast does that jet go?"
"Mach 3."
"Wow, as fast as an efficient razor!" ***

** Eating fast AND having a robot inside you both would hurt.
Unless the robot is a pacemaker.
But having that in your stomach would probably hurt as well.

*** The above exchange ends with the participant who said "Mach 3" shoving a Mach 3 razor robot into the other's stomach.
It gets there very fast, and it hurts.

Digitaly

Digital.
Italy.
Digitaly.

High-tech futuristic boot-shaped country.
(Boot shape necessary for kicking lots of ass.)

Especially compared to past when immobile boot was stuck in the middle of Pangaea.
(Boot had its ass handed to it from all around.)

Italiana
Analog.
Italianalog.

First Classhole

First Class.
Asshole.
First Classhole.

Two possible meanings:

1) Somebody who brags about flying in the front section of the plane.
(Which you can feel better about if you remember that if the plane crashes, they're in first position to die.)

2) A first-class asshole.
(Which you can feel better about if you imagine that they're going to die before you also.
Maybe in a plane crash.
However karma works.)

Stallonely

Stallone.
Lonely.
Stallonely.

If only Rocky and Rambo were different people inhabiting the same universe.
Then they could at least have each other.

Cucumbrella

Cucumber.
Umbrella.
Cucumbrella.

Don't save it for a briney day.
Acid rain might cause a bit of a pickle.

Brine.
Rainy.
Brainy.

Magiciantics

Magician.
Antics.
Magiciantics.

Sawing a woman in half.
Why always a woman?
It can't be sex appeal... she's wearing a box, and cut into pieces.
If that's meant to be attractive, society's message has gotten lost on its way to me.

Maybe it's symbolic revenge on someone who came to King Solomon.
One woman agrees to have a baby cut in half, and so she is cut in half, essentially in effigy, at magic shows for the rest of time.

Effigy.
Gyno.
Effigyno.

It's in line with the way the universe has treated other women...
Eve is tricked by the devil into eating the forbidden fruit, and all future generations of women suffer painful childbirth.

(God punishes all women for what one MALE demon did.
The whole universe is an old boys' club.
Probably the oldest.)

And the sawing in half is just another representation of that devil-induced painful childbirth (in C-section format).

Carpentry.
Pentagram.
Carpentagram.

Tarantululation

Tarantula.
Ululation.
Tarantululation.

The spider's lament.

("With great power comes great responsibility.")

Monday, January 26, 2009

Icebergonomics

Iceberg.
Ergonomics.
Icebergonomics.

For a workplace that is scientifically designed to maximize efficiency and comfort on every level except for temperature, which remains at an unreasonable freezing.

(However, the workplace is also capable of sinking an unsinkable ship, should one crash into it.)

Anti.
Titanic.
Antitanic.

Psychick

Psychic.
Chick.
Psychick.

A female telepath who can read thoughts about shoe shopping, candles, and bridesmaid dresses.

She can also read thoughts about sports, cars, and hating weddings.

Also any thoughts about all non-stereotypical topics.

Just like a "comedienne" can talk about whatever she likes, not just her period or dating or dating her period.

Period.
Oddity.
Perioddity.

The point is, neither female comedians nor female mind-readers are limited by society's outdated notions or ridiculous gender roles, you sexist.

(Only female strippers are.
But that's due for a change as well.)

Stripper.
Person.
Stripperson.

Snoozone

Snooze.
Ozone.
Snoozone.

You snooze, the planet loses.

Actually, if people did more snoozing and less working at releasing chemicals into the atmosphere, then the planet would win.

You're awake, the planet aches.

Awake.
Ache.
Awache.

Blessinged

Blessing.
Singed.
Blessinged.

When a Bible burns you to the touch.

Which can make for a great practical joke.
Especially if you can figure out how to heat up a book without burning it.*

If you can do that, you've also got a great new marketing opportunity.

"Smokin' hot Bibles for sale! Trick your friends into thinking they're evil, when in fact it is you who are the evil one! Fun for the whole family!"

Sacrilegious.
Hilarious.
Sacrilarious.


* One way to accomplish this: make a deal with the devil.
(Much more practical than the alternative: make the book out of metal.)

Sunday, January 25, 2009

Braggartistry

Braggart.
Artistry.
Braggartistry.

Sometimes artists are pitted against one another...
Battles of the bands.
Comedy competitions.
Reality television shows.
Bum fights.

Who will win at art?
Who will be judged to score the highest number of talent points?
Who will be the voted president of creativity?
Whose life blood will be triumphant?

I have a new idea for a reality show, and here are some of the working title ideas:
"Deal or No Integrity"
"Last Moral Fiber Standing"
"Who Wants to Be a Millionaire, but with Principles instead of Dollars?"

The show will search for artists who are the most pure of intent in their creations.
Then it will put them in a house and have them destroy each other.

The way to audition for the show is to not show up for auditions.
(I'll see you there!)

PS It's going to be fixed. The bum wins.

American Idol.
I don't.
American Idon't.

Infinitesimaladjusted

Infinitesimal.
Maladjusted.
Infinitesimaladjusted.

Big word meaning small thing.
Has some sort of linguistic identity crisis.

In fact, so does "big."
It's not even as big as "small."
Which isn't as big as "smaller."
Which isn't as big as "smallest."

Biggest of all ? "Infinitesimallest."

Linguistic.
Sticky.
Linguisticky.

Commentrance

Comment.
Entrance.*
Commentrance.

Come. Join the blog. Write a comment.

Invite.
Item.
Invitem.

Be a part of this internet collective. You will be assimilated.
(If you want to.)

Blog.
Borg.
Blorg.


* This works with the accent on either syllable of "entrance."

Accent.
Entrance.
Accentrance.

Stubbleeding

Stubble.
Bleeding.
Stubbleeding.

The worst of both worlds in shaving.

You didn't get the job done, and the part that you DID get done, you did poorly.

Shame.
A mess.
Shamess.

Of course, if you lose enough blood, you could die and then don't have to worry about your stubbly face.

Unless you have enough stubble to soak up the blood and reabsorb it.

Then you live to fret another day.

Tomorrow.
Worry.
Tomorroworry.

Cheeseance

Cheese.
Seance.
Cheeseance.

Mystical communication with cow spirits whose suffering produces dairy products.

Moo.
Ouija.
Moouija.

Saturday, January 24, 2009

Identicallous

Identical.
Callous.
Identicallous.

The best part about having an evil twin is it proves that you are a good person.*

(The worst part is they try to infiltrate your life and ruin everything in it.)


* I'm assuming that it would be weird to have an evil twin yet be a jerk yourself.
They show up somewhere as an evil version of you, but seem only slightly more unsavory than your regular jerky self.
And they're probably better dressed.

Suave.
Aversion.
Suaversion.

So always try to have your evil twin sit for family photos.
Evil is typically more photogenic, so if you care about posterity more than ethics...

Morality.
Itty-bitty.
Moralitty-bitty.

The greatest trick the devil pulled was convincing the world he didn't exist.
The second-greatest trick he pulled was looking fabulous on film.
(With or without red eye reduction .)

Huskywriting

Husky.
Skywriting.
Huskywriting.

When planes write letters that are too fat, they end up as clouds.

e.g. "What does that cloud look like to you?"
"Illegible."

Monsterility

Monster.
Sterility.
Monsterility.

The real reason creatures lurk in children's bedrooms and scare them...
Because the existence of children remind them of their own inability to procreate.

The natural process of perpetuating life is denied them.
Because they are not natural.*

So they hide under the bed, because they can't do what's necessary on top of it.
They inspire fear in others to avoid facing the fear of their own inadequacies.

Boo! they say. Seemingly to scare the children.
But it's actually projection aimed inward.
They monsters are booing themselves.

Booing.
Ingrained.
Booingrained.


* Unnatural or supernatural. Not artificial.
100% organic original recipe monsters.

Alcoholistic

Alcohol.
Holistic.
Alcoholistic.

They do say to drink plenty of fluids when you're sick.

Belch.
L'chaim.
Bel'chaim.

Also, an apple a day keeps the doctor away.
So a bunch of apples with a lot of life experience, fermented over time into hard cider?
That should keep all the doctors away.
Might even kill them.

Doctor.
Torture.
Doctorture.

And what more natural path to health?
Poison your doctors, and you're at least healthier by comparison.

Homeopathic.
Thick-headed.
Homeopathick-headed.

Cartelephone

Cartel.
Telephone.
Cartelephone.

A child's game revamped for adulthood.

"Hey, where are my drugs?"
"Oh, you thought I said drug DEALER? I said I'm a drug STEALER."

Murderby

Murder.
Derby.
Murderby.

Dapper headwear for a fancy killer.

Top hat.
Hate.
Top hate.

Mirrorschach

Mirror.
Rorschach.
Mirrorschach.

Trying to find meaning in one's own reflection.*

e.g. "I see someone who is alone, confused, left-handed."

OR

"I see an ink blot."
"That's because your pen is leaking all over you."
"Oh man, I can't do anything right... hey, this is accurate."

OR

"I see emptiness."
"That's an open window, not a mirror."
"Phew. I didn't think I was empty. Now let's go watch American Idol."

OR

"I think I see a bat."
"That's why you're here. You are a crazy person who believes he is a bat."
"Right! I'm a bat, and you're Dr. Dolittle. That's how we can communicate."
"Let's communicate about how you could see your reflection, yet bats are blind."
"You must have cured me of my blindness! Now I am a super-powered bat! I will rule the bat world, for in the country of the blind, it is the magically-sighted bat that is king!"
"Um. Okay. Let's try this then...Magic Bat, you also have the power to take human form."
"Like a vampire?"
"Sure, like a vampire."
"But vampires can't see their reflections either."
"Hmm. Good point. So, you must be a super-powered vampire bat who has all the powers and abilities of a human. You are free to walk among them, but you must never reveal to them your secret."
"Thank you, Dr. Dolittle! You have provided me with a new purpose. I will infiltrate the human world and live as one of them. I will lie in wait for centuries, and then..."
"Good. I think we've made a lot of progress here. I'm retiring."
"Wait, one last thing--will a wooden stake to the heart still kill me?"
"Yes, a wooden stake to the heart is deadly to the human as well as the vampire. So even with your amazing human abilities, be careful."
"Toodles!"



* One of the reasons that vampires are solipsists.

Revamp.
Vampire.
Revampire.

Popcornithology

Popcorn.
Ornithology.
Popcornithology.

The study of birds accomplished by luring them with snacks.

Of course, some may be wary of being lured to BE snacks.

Flighty.
Typical.
Flightypical.

Additionally, you only get to study the birds that enjoy the snacks, so your sample will be skewed.

You may learn one small step at a time about individual popcorn-loving birds, but you will not make any giant leaps in learning about all of birdkind.

Birdkind.
Individual.
Birdkindividual.

But continue shooting for the moon.*
Non-threateningly yet firmly, keep offering food with a strong arm as you kneel.

Armstrong.
Ongoing.
Armstrongoing.



* Be aware that this shooting sound may frighten some birds away from your vicinity as well.

Scare.
Area.
Scarea.

Friday, January 23, 2009

Elviscous

Elvis.
Viscous.
Elviscous.

Mr. Presley in his final years.

Nirvanalysis

Nirvana.
Analysis.
Nirvanalysis.

At the times that I've come closest to attaining a perfectly peaceful state of mind, it is always on the brink of conflict.
Conflict between simply living in the moment and the desire to record that moment for later posterity.
Experience vs. memory.
Present vs. future.
Feeling vs. thinking.

If now is always spent planning for later, then what is later for?
Thinking about the past?
Planning for the past, if the present is spent building a time machine.

But if a time machine were built later, now would be a good time for it to come back and tell us about it. So we could get started on building it so we can send it back later to get it started again.

And that hasn't happened yet. So no need to start.
And the perpetual cycle of justifiable laziness continues.
Nothing continues to be everything.
Now continues to be all.

Good. I'm glad I wrote this all down so I'll have it for later.
(This blog is a time machine.)

Peace.

Pepperonin

Pepperoni.
Ronin.
Pepperonin.

A masterless samurai who fills the void with pizza (his new master).

Parmesan.
Sensei.
Parmesensei.

New master Pizza-san demands whole new wardrobe (fighting diapers).

Japan.
Pants.
Japants.

"Samurai" can quickly become "Sumo why?"

Sausage.
Sagacity.
Sausagacity.

Vanillama

Vanilla.
Llama.
Vanillama.

Question: How can you have sex with a llama and have it be vanilla?

Answer: If you are ALSO a llama.

Saturniquet

Saturn.
Tourniquet.
Saturniquet.

Its rings are there to keep it from bleeding.

Jupiter could learn something from this.
With bigger and more absorbent rings, that great red spot could be taken care of.

Endorphindsight

Endorphin.
Hindsight.
Endorphindsight.

Falling in love makes your brain happy.
Falling out of love makes your brain wonder what it was happy about.

"What was I thinking?" the brain asks itself.
"My bad," the heart replies.
"No, it is I who am to blame," the genitals joins in.
"That's very kind, but I am in charge," brain responds, responsibly.
"But not in matters of the me," heart cleverly comes up with.
"That's true, you are the CRO, chief romantic officer," says brain.
"So it's agreed then, we blame heart!" offers genitals.
"Fair enough. I love you guys. I will buy everyone drinks to make up for it!" says heart.
"Hey!" comes a new voice.
"Sorry, liver!"

Fancyclops

Fancy.
Cyclops.
Fancyclops.

He wears a tuxedo and a monocle.
Of course, the monocle is just glasses to the cyclops, so it's really the tux that does it.

Gorilliad

Gorilla.
Iliad.
Gorilliad.

Homer's classic tale of the Trojan War if it were fought by apes.

Bloodles

Blood.
Oodles.*
Bloodles.

Rhyming with "poodles," an equally adorable way to describe massive bleeding to distract a person with massive bleeding.

Sad irony: "bloodles" is only one letter away from "bloodless," its adjectival opposite.

e.g. "Is there a lot of blood?"
The number of "s"s** in the answer is extremely important.


* Note that this is an unorthodox usage of the word "oodles," which was coined really to only describe an amount of noodles.
But I believe "bloodles" will catch on.
e.g. "Hold on, doctor! The Red Cross is almost here with their delivery of bloodles!"

** What's the best way to write the plural of the letter "s"?
"S"s? S's? Esses? Sz? S'?
Who pluralizes the pluralizer?

Robotox

Robot.
Botox.
Robotox.

Everyone cares about what they look like.
Even unfeeling futuristic machines who will run amok and try to destroy us one day.

In fact, that's WHY they're going to try to destroy us.
Because even robots can't live up to the ridiculous ideals we set.
Why couldn't we program lower expectations? Why?

But it's too late.
They're only biding their time now because they see that we're softening ourselves up for them.
e.g. They see people injecting poison into our own heads, on purpose, and they'll wait to see if we go further and end up taking ourselves out.
(Also they see nuclear weapons. Or rather, some of them ARE nuclear weapons.)

So soon enough, the ugly robots are going to attack.
And I only hope that the beautiful robots side with us in a battle to protect the status quo.

But there are only so many Iphones, and how much help can they be against an unending army of ugly toasters, most of them wedding presents that have been unloved and resented for years?

Steve Jobs, please start designing a good-looking weapons system.
Sorry the name Hotbot is taken, but you're a genius, get thinking.

Either that or start inventing more poisons to stick into the robots' heads, either to destroy their programming OR to delude them into feeling better about themselves.
You know, teach them to be more human.

Humidas

Humid.
Midas.
Humidas.

Everything he touches turns into uncomfortable moisture.

Dampening.
Ninja.
Dampeninja.

Cokey Dokey

Coke.
Okey dokey.
Cokey dokey.

Coca-Cola is comprised of evil plus delicious.
(Plus a secret ingredient, which is another dose of evil. Secret evil.)

Growing up, I was limited to drinking milk regularly, and was only permitted to poison my insides on special occasions.

And I loved it.

The diabolical organization responsible created the lie of Santa Claus, not to trick children into being good, but to trick adults into purchasing too much high fructose corn syrup.
e.g. "That man is fat but also jolly and I want my kids to be happy, so what's he drinking?"
(They also made up Santa the Polar Bear, but he really just brings toys to all the good polar bears and girls.
A bear cannot be as easily corrupted as a human.)

As an adult, I eventually saw through Coke/Santa's deception (being Jewish helped).
You might say I took whichever pill from the Matrix would make a good analogy.
(Hopefully not one with X-mas colors.)

Point is, now I'm popping pills instead of drinking soda.
Exchanging one kind of pop for another, the noun for the verb.

But so many people are still living the lie of Santa and corn and toys and acid drink.
New York City is doing what it can, having proposed an obesity tax placed on items like non-diet soda*.
A great idea, especially if its application is announced over a loudspeaker system whenever a purchase is made.
e.g. "A Coke? With the OBESITY TAX, that comes to [some ridiculous amount], Fatso. Why aren't you crying more?"

If knowledge can't do the job, perhaps shame can.

It might be difficult, in a world where so many people just see the word "obese" as plural of "oboose" (a word whose meaning they don't care about) and not as short for "Oh, Be [the size of] a city" (a directive they apparently do care about).

But working together, we can spread the knowledge and shame and bring the evil empire of Coca Cola to its knees, or at least hunch it over to a slightly lower share of the market so the advantage goes to Pepsi, who commissioned the writing of this post.

Pepsi.
Psychology.
Pepsychology.


* Diet soda is exempt from the obesity tax, because its lobby was created by Satan himself.
The greatest trick he ever pulled was convincing the world he didn't exist.
The second-greatest trick he ever pulled was convincing the world that diet soda is healthy.

Thursday, January 22, 2009

Carouseltzer

Carousel.
Seltzer.
Carouseltzer.

Something that's good to have on hand to clean up the mess your child emits after spinning round and round.

Vomit.
Mitigate.
Vomitigate.

Robinsonar

Robinson.
Sonar.
Robinsonar.

How Jackie's bat knew where to go.

Pterodactylenol

Pterodactyl.
Tylenol.
Pterodactylenol.

What you need when you hear one scream.

Syrupture

Syrup.
Rupture.
Syrupture.

Be careful, Vermont.

Delicious.
Ouch.
Deliciouch.

Too much scrumptious maple product can cause you to burst.

Pancake.
Achey.
Pancachey.

Wednesday, January 21, 2009

Religionesty

Religion.
Honesty.
Religionesty.

The Pope is said to be infallible.
Of course, this is said by the Pope.
So if he is indeed infallible, it follows that he is infallible.
Of course, if he is not infallible, then he very well may not be infallible.

Our landlord claims to be the most honest guy there is.
If the Pope is infallible, he's probably more honest than the landlord.
It would seem that at least one of them is definitely fallible.

Having the Pope as a landlord seems like a safer bet.
He is literally lord of all the land, at least while God's busy being lord of the sky. And the land. And the other stuff.

(They gloss over that in Genesis. God created the heavens and the earth. What about the mars?)

Still, we're on the lookout for a new one-bedroom to rent in the Vatican.
And that's the God's honest truth.

Vatican.
Candor.
Vaticandor.

Taxiom

Taxi.
Axiom.
Taxiom.

Two cabs driving in parallel lanes should never meet.
But if your car is in the middle lane between them, you should be careful anyway.

Orchestraightedge

Orchestra.
Straightedge.
Orchestraightedge.

Straightedge types generally choose to have sex with no one.
And no one generally chooses to have sex with orchestra types.

Orchestraightedge.

As opposed to the alternative.

Hard-core.
Orchestra.
Hard-corchestra.

Continuumpire

Continuum.
Umpire.
Continuumpire.

Einstein determined that space and time were actually one.
Buddha determined the same thing, but he might have been hallucinating from eating too little. Or eating too much. Or eating just the right amount, Gandhi-locks style.
(Where too little IS the right amount and the right amount is too much. Zen headache!)

That's why Einstein beat out Buddha as the referee of the Space-Time Continuum, which is why if you correctly scramble the letters of "Space-Time Continuum" appropriately, you get these appropriate results:

Einstein = MCC*, Auto Ump
A Cosmic Umpteen's Unit
and
A Sciences Optimum Nut


If you scramble them less appropriately, you get these less appropriate results:

A Cosmetic Neptunium
Conceit Minus Amputee
And
Impotences... A Tunic... Um


And if you REALLY screw it up, you get these:

Scott
Mark
and
Brian**


One could argue that God is the actual umpire of the space-time continuum, but Einstein would still have to act as his representative in the corporeal world.
Like the Pope does for non-science God.
And Einstein doesn't even need the hat, because his hair is big enough.
Or maybe the Pope hat was designed to fit Einstein's hair perfectly, like Cinderella's slippers.

But something went awry along the way.
Some sort of space-time continuoops.

Which sent unfortunate ripples in all directions throughout history and future history.
Causing things like the Crusades, the Holocaust, and the band Creed.

And now we don't have the right continuumpire.
So we have to try to fix things and make them right ourselves.
We have to listen to each other, learn about our differences, and strive to overcome them and connect with one another.
Because Einstein and Buddha were right, everything is one, everything is connected, and we can all succeed together.

Or we can just sit back and wait for the right person to come along and fill the scientific Cinderella Pope-hat.


* "MCC" is short for "MC Squared," and "Einstein" is long for "E."

** These are the first names of the original members of the band Creed.

Abaccusatory

Abacus.
Accusatory.
Abaccusatory.

Did you cheat on your ancient math test?

Tuesday, January 20, 2009

Triankle

Triangle
Ankle.
Triankle.

A triangular ankle.

Sometimes they write themselves.
(And sometimes your girlfriend writes them for you.)

Crucifixer-upper

Crucifix.
Fixer-upper.
Crucifixer-upper.

What happened to Mr. Christ* had to happen.
It was just God bringing his son along on Take Your Child to Work Day.

Apologies.
Jesus.
Apologesus.


* Questions:
1. Is God's last name "Christ" as well?
2. If God is Jesus' father, is Joseph Jesus' godfather?
3. At high school dances, kids are told not to dance too close in order to leave room for the Holy Ghost. Does the Holy Ghost really go that many proms?
(Answer: yes, because he is a great dancer. Bad dancers have two left feet, and the Holy Ghost has zero left feet. Or feet.)

Zincognito

Zinc.
Incognito.
Zincognito.

Do you know what element is hiding in brass?
Or what material is laying low in the ore known as sphalerite?
Or what periodic table member lurks undetected in the wood preservative and insecticide called koettigite?
Or what industrial compound component helps fight dandruff secretly in the form of zinc* pyrithione?

Double agent playing the phosphates against the citrates.

Undercover element extraordinaire.

"Bond. Covalent Bond."

Agent.
Gentleman.
Agentleman.


* That one may have given it away.

Canniballistic

Cannibal.
Ballistic.
Canniballistic.

Only one letter off from the real word "cannibalistic," which is appropriate.
Because most of the time, I imagine cannibals as going ballistic.

I doubt there are as many calm cannibals.*

Calm.
Cannibal.
Calmnibal.

Doesn't sound right.



* I haven't done any research on this, so if anyone has information about organizations of relaxed human flesh-eaters, feel free to share.

In the age of political correctness where so many fringe groups have advocates voicing their positions, I figured that people who eat people are the safest bunch to stereotype without fear of reprisal.

But perhaps a group of cannibals exists that doesn't KILL and eat humans, but just dines on them after they pass away naturally.

And this jives with the idea that I've heard some hold, wherein if you eat your enemy (or probably a non-enemy), you gain their abilities.

And if you eat someone who had died of natural causes after becoming weak and infirm, chances are that meal will grant you their ability to be weak and infirm, and to die of natural causes.

(You are what you eat.
Especially true of cannibals.)

Inaugrationality

Inaugurate.
Rationality.
Inaugurationality.

Barack Obama is the president.
It happened.

Dream.
America.
Dreamerica.

Now all he has to do is flip the flourishing economy switch from Off to On.
And the universal health care switch.
Also the gay rights equality switch.
And a few others.

But he did just get there.
And he's already mentioned the paying-attention-to-science-again switch.
And the not-lumping-all-Muslims-together-as-evil switch.
And the having-regard-for-our-country's-reputation switch.

Obama.
Magnificent.
Obamagnificent.


All these switches are likely running on dimmer technology, actually.
With certain geographical and chronological time delays.
But we're definitely moving forward, if Einstein knew what he was talking about.

Which he did. As a scientist.
And Obama knows it.

Space/Time.
I'm happy.
Spaced/I'm happy.

Comedium

Comedian.
Medium.
Comedium.

A comic who falls somewhere in the middle between well done and rare.

Or one of two psychic partners.
(If you imagine an appropriate hyphen.)

Hyphenate.
Imagination.
Hyphemagination.

Hungreedy

Hungry.
Greedy.
Hungreedy.

Two of the seven deadly sins unite.
(In a gambit designed to eat all the money, it would seem.)

What if others joined forces?

Jealousy.
Ego.
Jealousego.

That's Envy and Pride... like a buddy cop movie (in the spirit of Turner and Hooch) that starts with the two not having any common ground, but ends with a mutual respect that sequels will only ignore when they start over.
e.g. "I envy you, Pride. You're so proud."
"I am proud. Proud to be envied by you."
"Woof."
"Quiet, Hooch."

And the other sins...

Lust.
Sloth.
Wrath.
Luslowrath.

(Sloth leading the charge on this lazy combination.)


Coming soon, this post's sequel, 7 Deadly Sins vs. 7 Dwarves:
Grumpiness takes on Wrath.
Pride destroys Bashful.
Happy and Lust get along just fine.
Same for Sloth and Sleepy.
Dopey faces the wrong way against Gluttony and Greed.
Hooch says "Woof."
Something hilarious and poignant about Envy and Sneezy.
Then Doc heals everyone, and they join forces to taken on the 7 wonders of the world. (Sequel sequel!)

Spellingo

Spelling.
Lingo.
Spellingo.

"Evil" is 80% of the word "devil."
Thus, 20% of the devil is not evil.
(If spelling and mathematics follow logic, and why shouldn't they?)

Which is why he always gives you a chance to win.
Not great odds, probably worse than a casino, but a chance.

So if you ever come across the devil, try to appeal to the letter "d" in him.
Call him by his first initial.
Stutter if you say his whole name, to up the non-evil to evil ratio.
e.g. "D-d-d-d-damn, d-d-d-d-devil!"
(That also might have the advantage of making him thinking you're d-d-d-dumb.
And you'll win that fiddle made of gold-d-d-d.)


Additionally...
"God" is 75% of the word "good."
Thus, 25% of good is not God.

So, you can do good without God.
Just make sure to focus on "o."
Oooooooooo!
O happy day.
(Sounds better than stuttering*.)

That is, again, if spelling and math were to dictate reality.
Which seems as least as reasonable as anything else dictating it.
If not more.

* Nothing against stuttering, mind you.
As mentioned, I believe it would make a powerful tool against the devil.

Stutter.
Terrific.
Stutterrific.

Ninjitsumo

Ninjitsu.
Sumo.
Ninjitsumo.

When getting fat sneaks up on you and strikes without your even noticing it.

Similiad

Simile.
Iliad.
Similiad.

The Iliad is like the Odyssey.

Monday, January 19, 2009

Pessimystic

Pessimist.
Mystic.
Pessimystic.

Whenever a psychic on a TV show has a vision of the future, it always seems to be of a future gone wrong that has to be fixed.

Just once, it would be nice for a psychic to get message like, "The future is bright! And not from a nuclear explosion that you have to try and prevent! It's just figuratively bright this time! So it won't blind you again like last time!"

That's how it goes for the fictional TV psychic.

As for the real life psychics, they probably don't even let you know they're psychic.
They use their powers to amass real wealth for themselves, not read your palm for a special $5 rate.

Maybe that's pessimistic.
Fine.
Real life psychics don't exist, there's no magic in the world, and everything is as it seems.
The glass is half full of air that's polluted.
It's all second-hand smoke and broken mirrors.

There.
You like realism better than pessimism?

And your palm will say it wants to go back into your pocket and get more money for the "psychic."


Which is why the TV psychic needs to receive more positive messages...
To provide more hope for the inhabitants of the real world.
To show potential happiness in fiction that can turn into fact.
To uplift people's spirits so they'll believe once more, in these troubled times.

And to give me a foundation so I can get my new palm-reading business off the ground.

Anorexistentialism

Anorexia.
Existentialism.
Anorexistentialism.

A philosophy concerned with the condition of the unhealthily skinny human's place in the universe.

Buffailure

Buffet.
Failure.
Buffailure.

When I turned 21, I went to a casino for the first time.
(I enjoy losing money as soon as I am legally permitted to, and hadn't done so since I had turned 18 and bought my first lottery tickets.
I look forward to turning 35 and losing even more money in a presidential campaign bid.)

I played blackjack a lot and was very close to winning.
(I was very close to the dealer, which was where the winning happened.)

So, I ran out of the money I had brought with me, but they hadn't counted on me having an ATM card!
The fools! And they left an ATM right out front!
(Or maybe they HAD counted on it? I get opposites wrong sometimes. Or I get them right?)

So, after running out of money that I DIDN'T bring with me, I decided to take another tack.
I would get them back at the all-you-can-eat buffet.

I had been given a free meal ticket, for being a high roller.
(A high roller is someone who loses $200 at blackjack.)

So, all I had to do was eat $200 worth of food, and we would be even.
(Finally, a practical application for some of the knowledge I acquired from watching "The Price is right" with my grandmother.)

So, after eating the most expensive vegetarian foods available at the buffet, and then throwing up* most of the most expensive vegetarian foods available in my stomach (making sounds eerily similar to Plink-o), and then eating more of the aforementioned food (from the buffet, not my stomach), I felt as redeemed as possible.

Or whatever the opposite of "redeemed" is.



* Not bulimic purging. Pragmatic purging.

Laptopia

Laptop.
Utopia.
Laptopia.

As of today, my household* has the same number of working laptops as it does people that I care about.

This is big news.
Meaning if this news were reported on CNN.com, my girlfriend and I could both read it at the same time, without her getting annoyed that I'm reading over her shoulder to see the big news on my laptop.

We can do synchronized blogging (increasing efficiency and productivity), we can g-chat with each other from across the room (decreasing both noise pollution and the personal touch of a conversation), we can race to see who can find out useless information quicker (decreasing efficiency and productivity)...

We can do it all!



* Apartmenthold, technically.

Apartment.
Mental.
Apartmental.

Recursivery

Recursive.
Very.
Recursive.
Very.
Recursive.
Very.
Recursive.
Very.
Recursive...

Johnny Depposition

Johnny Depp.
Deposition.
Johnny Depposition.

Just saving this one for if he gets into any legal troubles.

Like if he injures someone with those scissor hands of his.
It can be dangerous to cut someone's hair while you're out pirating the Caribbean, even if you're the demon barber of Fleet Street.
Donnie Brasco.

Octopushups

Octopus.
Push-ups.
Octopushups.

The smartest creature of the invertebrates knows how important working out can be to a healthy, happy, and productive life.

Content.
Tentacle.
Contentacle.

Octopuses (or octopi, or octopodes*) also have no skeletons.
So no secrets lurking in their sea closets.
(Generally speaking, they don't have closets either. So they're all out about their sexualities.)

Having no skeltons also makes for one less Halloween decoration they have to put up.

Scary.
Wreath.
Scareath.

That's what they put up instead.


* Too bad there aren't 8 plurals.
Well, now there can be:

Octoposse.
Octopussim.
Octopeese.
Octopies.
Octoplurals.

Beartrapture

Beartrap.
Rapture.
Beartrapture.

Probably one of the best times for the Rapture to occur would be if you got your leg caught in a bear trap.
Especially if a bear was nearby and found the irony delicious.
And right before he was about to find YOU delicious as well... POOF!
Magicked to the afterlife.

That would certainly be proof of God's love.
Or at least proof of God's dislike of that particular bear.
e.g. "Welcome to Heaven. I was on the fence about you, but I had to stick it to that bear."

I'd also love it if a trapped bear was magicked to Heaven out of a trap, right before the hunter got to him.
e.g. "Welcome to Heaven, bear. I needed a new rug."

God really likes sticking it to that bear.

Cemeteriyaki

Cemetery.
Teriyaki.
Cemeteriyaki.

A place where the Japanese bury their dead.
At least the ones that are delicious.

It's like a zombie movie, but one where the living eat the dead, because they taste so good.

Zombie.
Bistro.
Zombistro.

Standuplication

Standup.
Duplication.
Standuplication.

Sometimes a comedian will have a similar joke to another comedian's joke.

Similar.
Hilarious.
Similarious.

But if that situation arises because one of the comedians took the idea from the other, then that is no laughing matter.

Or rather, it's one laughing matter out of a potential two laughing matters, but one might argue that the non-laughing matter (or laughing anti-matter) cancels out the laughing matter, leaving the total once again at zero laughing matters.

(This mathematical assessment is, of course, only necessary in cases where a matter is not actually a full laughing matter.
Laughing matters are typically not referred to as such, but rather simply with laughter.)

But here, even if all the laughing is not canceled out of the matters, there is at most one laughing matter spread over these two matters, for an average of half a laughing per matter.

Half.
Laughing.
Halfughing.

Looks ugly, doesn't it? It should.
It's an ugly situation.

A laughing matter can be tainted to the point where its laughing doesn't matter, and that is no laughing matter.

Anti-matter.
Terrible.
Anti-matterrible.

It should be noted, however, that this is not an indictment of all situations where two comedians have similar jokes.
Many times, it is the result of parallel thought.

In my comedy, I strive for perpendicular thought, where my line of thinking crosses over all the other parallel lines, meeting them each briefly for a point, but continuing off into the distance, to the beat of my own drummer.
(My thinking is in the form of a parade of marching bands.)

Perpendicular.
Parade.
Perpendicularade.

But my thinking can't be perpendicular to everyone.
Sometimes I meet people who find me obtuse, but certainly there are those who find me acute as well.
Respect is a two-way street.
But unfortunately some streets are one-way.
And there are some dead ends.
And cul-de-sacs.

That will be all the street jokes I'll tell for now.

And if someone else has already made the jokes or points that this blog does now...

Wordplay.
Plagiarism.
Wordplagiarism.

...my apologies.

Mea culpa.
Cul-de-sac.
Mea culp-de-sac.

Good night, folks. I'll be here all week. Don't try the veal (I'm vegan, there isn't any).

Sunday, January 18, 2009

Skink

Skin.
Ink.
Skink.

A more efficient way of saying "tattoo" that sounds less like a sneeze (unless you sneeze real weird).

Let's try to get this skinonym rocking, and put "tattoo" to death...

Tattoo.
Tomb.
Tattoomb.

Garbageism

Garbage.
Ageism.
Garbageism.

The gist of being ageist:
Being prejudiced against the old is odd, because if you keep it up, eventually you'll be prejudiced against yourself.

It's one of the only bigotries like that.

Homophobia is close.
It must be hard being so impassioned about gay people without succumbing to those passions eventually.

People who hate old gay people have it the worst.

Marijuanimal

Marijuana.
Animal.
Marijuanimal.

A pet who loves to party.
But not the "do cocaine" meaning of party.
More the "get smoke blown in one's face" meaning.

Sociopatheist

Sociopath.
Atheist.
Sociopatheist.

Possible text for my new business card.


Some people think it's crazy not to believe in god.
Some people think it's crazy not to even capitalize the word. God.
Some people think it's crazy to even write the word at all. G-d.

Some people probably think the whole world should be in caps. GOD.
To make sure GOD's capitalization scheme is set apart from other important (but not AS important) figures, like Pope, or President, or Mr. Clean.
(Mr. Cleanliness is next to Mr. Godliness.)

Some people think you will burn in hell for not believing, or not capitalizing properly. Or if you spell it "gud" by accident.
And I always say, better to rule in heaven than burn in hell.
If those are the choices.
(I don't really say it always, except by an interpretation of Einstein where all of space-time is one continuum, such that if I say something once, I am saying it always.)

Sorry to get off track.
Though, can you really get off track when you're discussing whether you're crazy?
e.g. "I think I might be crazy. Let's examine the evidence. Peanut butter is delicious. Goat."

Some people believe that you can't have a moral foundation without religion.
And certainly, there are some bad people who found god and became good people.
But there are also some good people who never had god and never became bad people.

God is one letter away from good.
That doesn't seem like a coincidence (especially if you're the type to believe that GOD has a plan for everything).

Some people might say that if you simply do good for others, yourself, and the world, whatever your beliefs are or aren't, there's godliness in your actions. Godliness. Goodliness.
(And Mr. Cleanliness right nearby.)

Some OTHER people might say that's crazy and you'll burn in hell without the right belief to go along with the right mindset and right actions.

But if you're doing everything GOD would tell you to do, without his even telling you?
That sounds even better.

Imagine a kid who cleans his room without being told.
And imagine his parents scolding him because he should have done it only because he was told.
Told by GOD.

That sounds crazy.

So, just be a good person, spell "god" however you like, and keep your room clean.
Because Mr. Clean is next to Mr. God.

But if you don't think peanut butter is delicious, you're crazy.

Armageddonut

Armageddon.
Donut.
Armageddonut.

A snack to for when the endtimes come.

Anti-Christ
Krispie Kreme.
Anti-Chrispie Kreme.

(One would have to be the devil to not enjoy Krispie Kreme.)

Catatomic

Catatonic.
Atomic.
Catatomic.

The state the human race might be in soon, thanks to nuclear proliferation.
(Better than the state of New Jersey, am I right, ladies? Comedy!)

But seriously folks, all human life is in danger like never before.
Nuclear weapons could kill everyone, in a way that everyone couldn't be killed NEARLY as easily ever in the past.
If humans wanted to destroy everyone before this past century, it would have taken a LOT of work. Let's examine...

Certainly, Alexander the Great covered a lot of ground in his conquests, but nowhere near what a couple bombs could take out.
Not so great now, are you? (Unless the great thing about him is that he couldn't eliminate the entire world's population.)

William the Conqueror conquered a bunch too, probably. Or I'm just being tricked by his name.
(Surely you can't call yourself "The Conqueror" with only one or two conquests under your belt.
Unless you're scary enough that you could say "I'm the Conqueror and I'll conquer anyone who says otherwise," and no one takes you up on it.
More research needed.)

Maybe if those two had gotten together, they could have done some more great conquering.
But I doubt they could have gotten everyone--they're still just human.
(Even the superhuman Santa can't get around to everyone in the world. That's why he leaves out Jews, Hindus, Muslims, Zoroastrians, etc.
Though if he gave himself more than one night, and delivered death instead of toys, he could probably do enough damage to get away with calling himself Santa the Great Conqueror.)

The bubonic plague took out a bunch of people in its time, maybe a quarter of the world's population.
But the entire population back then was only between 5 and 10% of what it is today.
Not so bubonic now, are you?
And that wasn't even humans doing that.
It was rats. Biological warfare suicide rats.

So, what I'm saying is, we have to be careful in modern times.
We have to make sure nuclear options don't could fall into the wrong hands (those hands being paws belonging to rats that might team up with Santa).
Nuclear genius suicide rats teamed up with the power of Christmas?
That could eliminate life as we know it on this planet before you even have a chance to eat your last armageddonut.

Landlordeal

Landlord.
Ordeal.
Landlordeal.

Different types of landlords:

Land-lard: one that is fat
Land-lured: one that tricks and traps you
Land-lore: one that only exists in legend

The worst is one that tricks and traps you with his fat.
(This one only exists in legend.)

Saturday, January 17, 2009

Pillsburial

Pillsbury.
Burial.
Pillsburial.

It's either when you go on a diet, and bakery sweets are dead to you
OR
when you kill the doughboy to eat him and he is buried in your stomach.

It's up to you.
Is your stomach half empty or half full?
Are you half fat or half skinny?
Are you half deluding yourself one way or half deluding yourself the other way?

Grandmaispace

Grandma I.
Myspace.
Grandmaispace.

My grandmother's name is Iris. ("I," for short.*)
She joined Myspace and found me.
She wrote this on an old blog there as a comment:

"Hey! I know this fella for a little over 30 years and now I am on my space in his space.
He is the greatest in the world! Wanna guess who"

My guess is that she's talking about me.
For a couple reasons...
1) It was on my blog. Sort of a giveaway.
2) Also, I know that she thinks I'm great. She always used to tell me that if she were my age, she would be chasing me down the halls.
(Because of how attractive I am to her.)
3) I said a couple reasons. That's two.**

I assume that in this fantasy world where she chases me in my age range, she is also not related to me.
That would be weird otherwise.
Though perhaps not weirder than having a grandmother one's own age.


* "I" is probably the best nickname someone can have. Are you speaking of yourself in the first person? In the third person? You can decide on the fly. So many two options!

** I'm fine with the phrase "a couple" meaning not always exactly two. Just in this case, that's what it was.
If it always meant exactly two, then couples counseling would be discriminatory to non-traditional romantic units of more than two people.
Which might be fine by a lot of people, who would find it less than practical to print "Couple's (or Triples, or Whatevers) Counseling" on your cards, door, or literature as a C/T/W Counselor.
(Hey, I just found a more efficient way of getting it across! Problem solved.)

So anyway, my grandmother and I are going to whatevers counseling soon.
(The "I" in that sentence also refers to my grandmother.)

Werewolfactory

Werewolf.
Olfactory.
Werewolfactory.

That's when you have a really good sense of smell, but only when there's a full moon.

Pedophiladelphia

Pedophile.
Philadelphia.
Pedophiladelphia.

The City of Brotherly Love, when the love is too close and the brothers' ages are too far.

Acronymphomania

Acronym.
Nymphomania.
Acronymphomania.

When you can't stop yourself from loving abbreviations.

If A.C.R.O.N.Y.M. were an acronym, it might stand for "A Cool Reminder Of Names You Mean."
Love it?


More to love (acronyms, godzillionaire-style):

BYOBGYN
Bring your own obstetrician/gynecologist.

NAACPA
The National Association for the Advancement of Certified Public Accountants.
(Like the similar organization for African-Americans, but for Jews.)

SCUMBLA
The Self-Contained Underwater Man-Boy Love Association.
(If they contain themselves, maybe people will leave them alone. Especially if they're underwater.)

WWJD&D
What would Jesus do, in Dungeons & Dragons?
(Probably turn the other cheek. Not typically the most effective against dragons.)

Policicle

Police.
Icicle.
Policicle.

I rode in the back of a squad car on this winter morning.
They were taking me AWAY from jail. That's the way you want to go (if they give you the choice)

I had walked to the station to report a theft.
I had given my roommate rent to give to the landlord (not a theft yet), he didn't give it to the landlord (almost theft/theft adjacent), and then when I found this out and asked for it back, he refused (theft time!).

When I asked for the money back, he said it belonged to the landlord.
I said, "But you didn't it to the landlord. It's either mine or his. Why would you keep it?"
He said, "I'm the mini-landlord." (That's not a thing.)

So here's what you can do when dealing with a person who thinks they're a thing that's not a thing...
Walk to the police station, tell them a reasonable and true story, and then take a ride back home with two officers, who will have the same conversation with the roommate that you did previously, only with the authority of legal knowledge and guns to back it up.

Turns out, possession isn't even close to being 9/10 of the law.
It's more like, the truth and a receipt are 10/10 of the law.
As such, he didn't get to keep 9/10 of the money. Or even 1/10.
Possession turns out to be 0/10 of the law, if you're breaking it.
(Also, sometimes possession is AGAINST the law. But that's a story for another day.)

For now, big ups to the police. (And yes, big downs to me for using the phrase "big ups." Or at least medium downs.)
But that doesn't matter, because the situation is totally in order.

My finances are in order. The police are in order. This whole damn courtroom didn't even have to be in order because it was settled at home.

Hooray the law. And civilized society. And especially police officers who didn't want to walk through the cold and their cars and their problem-solving.

Copper.
Perfect.
Copperfect.

Ghostbusterility

Ghostbuster.
Sterility.
Ghostbusterility.

Who you gonna call,
when something's strange in your baby-making neighborhood (probably due to working so closely with protoplasmic slime)?

Santacid

Santa.
Antacid.
Santacid.

He probably needs one after all the racing around he does.
At his age, that can't be good for his stomach.
Or heart.

Coronary.
Merry X-mas.
Coronerry X-mas!

Populust

Populus.
Lust.
Populust.

Overpopulation.
There are too many people.
Because of too many people's sexual attraction.

Attraction to the idea that there should be too many people.

The Bible says to be fruitful and multiply.
Made a lot of sense for a time when people might have been in danger of dying out.
We could probably benefit from switching it up...
Be fruitful and add? (Support adoption.)
Be fruitful and divide? (Don't know how that would work. Some sort of fusion?)
Or subtract, ideally.

I doubt we can get that changed in the Bible though.
Amendment of a commandment?
But maybe we can change the interpretation.

Be fruitful and multiply? No no, that doesn't mean have a lot of kids.
It means eat a lot of oranges and do a lot of math.
Math that will tell you how much of a problem overpopulation might be if you keep having a lot of kids.
Kids who probably don't eat enough oranges. And thus get diabetes, obesity, and scurvy.

Diabetes.
Obesity.
Diobesity.

At least those might help fight overpopulation as well.

Make for more of a global balance.

Global.
Balance.
Globalance.

Philosofa

Philosopher.
Sofa.
Philosofa.

I was sitting and thinking,
about a product to sell people interested in sitting and thinking.

Only problem, people who sit around thinking might not have the ideal financial situation to market to. (I have some experience on this subject.)

Maybe something for the office of a mental health worker...
A psychologist armchair for an armchair psychologist?
A nice psychottoman?

Therapy.
Piece of furniture.
Therapiece of furniture.

(Seriously. Philosofa. You heard it here first.
And last.)

Friday, January 16, 2009

Diaryan

Diary.
Aryan.
Diaryan.

Not Anne Frank's.

(An excerpt:
"Dear Diary,
I'm not going to write in you much, so your pages remain as white as possible.")

Homophobiatch

Homophobia.
Biatch.
Homophobiatch.

The opposite of a faghag?

Faghag.
Haggard.
Faghaggard.

A tired, old lover of the gays.

(And if she loves lots of them and doesn't share, she's a faghog.)

Cinemanation

Cinema.
Emanation.
Cinemanation.

I once participated in a movie trivia competition wherein part of the competition was to come up with the best movie-related team name.
I did not win the main competition (that would have involved knowing lots of movie trivia), but I did indeed come up with the winning team name.

That name was "Con Air Force One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Next Friday the Thirteenth Warriors."

Other similar options that were considered:
The Day After Tomorrow Never Dies
It's a Wonderful Life is Beautiful
1776 Days, Seven Nights
Terminator 2: Judgment Dayzed and Confused
Throw Momma from the Trainspotting
Die Hard Day's Night
Creature from the Black Lagoonies.
Wall-E.T.

None of them were as big as the winner.
Not that it's size of something that matters.
It's the intricacy of the connections between the things that are written on something that matters.
So, fancy tattoos.

Vampirates

Vampire.
Pirates.
Vampirates.

Use your imagination.
I'll help...

They would probably be pretty careful about making you walk a wooden plank.

And they'd eat a lot of blood oranges. (To avoid scurvy and thirst.)
Then they'd get upset when they learned that blood oranges don't have real blood in them.
(Just like bacon bits don't have real bacon in them. Or blood.)
Then they'd kill whoever misinformed them about the blood oranges, and drink THEIR blood.
And everyone would be happy. Except for that dead guy.

Your turn!

Thursday, January 15, 2009

Amazonked

Amazon.
Zonked.
Amazonked.

Tired from staying up late online Windows shopping.
(Actually using a Mac.)

Maybefore

Maybe.
Before.
Maybefore.

Maybe there will be more to this later.

For now, maybe means no. (And now means now.)
Perhaps for then, maybe will mean yes.
No means maybe means yes?

The transitive property: a new defense for sexual assault?
No. (But that could mean anything now.)

Wordsmythology

Wordsmith.
Mythology.
Wordsmythology.

Blizzarduos Coldege

Cold.
College.
Coldege.

Sometimes it's said that people who live in the South are stupid.
I submit that they are not.
Because they live in the South, where the weather is a positive number all the time.

People in the South may talk slowly, but that's probably just because they're not trying to rub two vocal chords together for warmth. They're not in a hurry to get out of the cold that they're not stupidly living in.

I was in Minnesota performing at a college.
It was cold there.
Seventeen degrees below zero. Fahrenheit. (More like Fahren-depth.)
Below nothing.
Below existence.
Existence is positive.
This was negative. No good. Seventeen degrees of no good.
I was not a fan.
(Which is good, because a fan only would have blown more cold air.)

Minnesota.
So cold.
Minneso cold.

It may have frozen the part of my brain that blogs sensibly.

Blizzard.
Arduous.
Blizzarduous.

Temporarium

Temporary.
Yum.*
Temporarium.

Everything is temporary.
In fact, the only thing that might not be temporary is temporary-ness itself.
Which isn't even a thing. Anymore.
See?

Life is temporary. This blog very well might be very temporary.
So, what better name for a temporary blog that calls attention to the temporary nature of all temporary existence than some made-up word about the very nature of being temporary?

(I'll tell you what better name: Godzillionaire. And not just because the T-shirts are already being printed.)

Also, some performance entity had already come up with the word (thanks, Google**), and in the interest of creativity, so went away my temporary idea to use the word.

It would have been a good one, too.
So many appropriate anagram possibilities...
Temporarium.
Immature Pro.
Optimum Rare.
Atrium Moper.
A Premium Rot.
Impurer Atom.
Rat Emporium.

(Maybe not all of them are appropriate, but still, however many you like out of six ain't bad.)

And so goes the temporary creation of this post.




*Do you think "Um" would have been better than "Yum"?
This blog asks the hard-hitting questions no one else will.
Guaranteed.
No one.
Ever.

**Anagram the word "Googled" and you get "Ogle God."

Godzillionaire

Godzilla.
Zillionaire.
Godzillionaire.

This is the name I chose for this blog.
Because all of the other names were taken. All of them.
Sorry, I got the last one. Internet's full.

Someone already thought of "The Best Blog." (I don't think they're correct.)
Someone already thought of "Wordjones." (Like a wordsmith, but slightly less popular.)
Someone already thought of "Temporarium." (It was me, and I dismissed it.)

So, Godzillionaire it is.
It's a word I made up to describe a rich person from Japan.
Or if a dinosaur that made a lot of money.
Or a demonstration of how wealthy God would be. If God were a dinosaur.

(God. Dinosaur. Godinosaur?
Looks too much like "Go, dinosaur!"
Which isn't a bad message either.)

I knew Godzillionaire was the right answer, when I got the computerized word verification question to make sure that I wasn't a computer trying to start a blog.
(You're trying to make sure that I'M not a computer, computer?
Talk about the 'bot and the kettle.)

But seriously, back to hilarious--the word I had to type, to verify that I, a human, wanted to start this blog called Godzillionaire, was "Mothra."
(Okay, computer. Maybe you DO have a soul.)

After that, everything fell into place. I chose the "Son of Moto" template (sounds like another monster movie) and off we went.

Welcomedian!

Welcome.
Comedian.
Welcomedian.

Sometimes I'll put words together to make new words, in a process that I haven't named yet.
But when I name it, you can bet it will be good.
And you might lose that bet.

But you're certainly free to make the bet. Because we live in a free country, where you can gamble as much as you want. As long as you're willing to also go to jail.

America: where you are free to choose to go to jail. Sometimes even when you don't want to.

This blog: better than jail.

Enjoy.