Genee-Jerk

Genie.
Knee-Jerk.
Genee-Jerk.

Don't react immediately when a magical being tells you you have three wishes.

First, make sure it's not one of those vindictive ones that will purposefully misinterpret your words to give you literally what you asked for but figuratively big problems.

e.g. You ask to be the richest person in the world, so the genie kills everyone else.

Genie.
Genocide.
Genie-cide.

Also, it might not even be a genie, but the devil in disguise trying to steal your soul.

If that's the case, go through all the motions and then when he tries to claim it, you can say, "No, I said you could have my SOLE. Of my shoe. Take the whole thing. In fact, take both. I'm feeling magnanimous."

Genie.
Generous.
Genie-rous.*

Then you just go to the genie and ask for a new pair.

And then he gives you a piece of fruit.

Which is way more delicious than losing your soul.

Genie.
Needless to Say.
Geneedless to Say.



* That one wasn't actually even about the genie, sorry.

Devil.
Illegitimate.
Devillegitimate.

Umbilical Corduroys

Umbilical Cord.
Corduroys.
Umbilical Corduroys.

The grossest pants in the world.

And that's not all... they're also made of umbilical cords!

Pantaloon.
Lunacy.
Pantalunacy.

Cartuna

Cartoon.
Tuna.
Cartuna.

Shouldn't more animated characters be vegetarians?

There are so many anthropomorphized talking animals out there, and they're just chomping away at NON-anthropomorphized animals like it's normal.

Normal.
Malnutrition.
Normalnutrition.

You might argue no, because it's the natural order of things for animals to eat each other in the wild (e.g. fish do feed on other fish without being called cannibals), so why not eat them in the non-wild, especially when they're wearing pants like a human?

Wardrobe.
Obituary.
Wardrobituary.

Fair point, but that doesn't explain Mickey Mouse eating a steak.
(Mice are not predators of cows in the natural order of things.
But maybe talking mouse in shorts IS predator of cartoon cow.
Or just that Disney is a predator of everything.)

Jeopardize.
Disney.
Jeopardisney.

Clothingested

Clothing.
Ingested.
Clothingested.

Some underwear is edible.

Either because it is manufactured that way, or because someone didn't do their laundry and started wearing fruit roll-up boxers instead.*

Pantaloon.
Lunacy.
Pantalunacy.


* Taking the "of the loom" out of "fruit of the loom."
(And adding "roll-up.")

Tailored.
Edible.
Tailoredible.

Morninja

Morning.
Ninja.
Morninja.*

Me, when I awaken earlier than my girlfriend and sneak out of bed without waking her.

Sleeping.
Ingenuity.
Sleepingenuity.


* Not to be confused with a mourning ninja, which is someone who kicks ass at grieving.

Grief.
Effortless.
Grieffortless.

Probably because they're trained to be comfortable with death, they're at one with the universe, and they're already wearing black.

Shiva.
Values.
Shivalues.

Bummerriage

Bummer.
Marriage.
Bummerriage.

You know the old joke, "A horse walks into a bar and is asked 'Why the long face?'"

Well, here's an adapation: "A man walks into a wedding and is asked 'Why the long face?' and he says, 'Because I'm in the bridle party.'"

Sequin.
Equine.
Sequine.

Here's the thing--I thought that the man in that joke would be me this weekend because I had been asked to be a groomsman in a good friend's wedding...

My position necessitated my arrival at 1pm for an affair that would not end until the next day began.

The actual wedding ceremony was to occur at 7pm, pictures were scheduled for between 4-6pm, and the photographer wasn't even going to arrive until 2pm. So, 1pm it was for the groomsmen!

Chronology.
Geez.
Chronologeez.

Sure, we did need a little time to change into our fancy duds*, especially when not accustomed to wearing such gear...

Tuxedo.
Don't.
Tuxedon't.

...but I couldn't imagine what would fill the hours called for by our itinerary.

I expected that just like the horse-man of the joke that started this post, the length of my face would correspond directly with the length of the day's preparations.

Centaur.
Torture.
Centorture.

But as it turned out, I was pleasantly mistaken.

While the groomsmen did indeed have to arrive super-early...

Super.
Early.
Supearly.

...we were immediately whisked away to the game room, where we were greeted by food, drink, pool, cards, shuffleboard, darts, music, etc.**

Merriment.
Entirely.
Merrimentirely.

And that's what ended up filling all those hours, as well as my stomach.
(I ate a lot of shuffleboard and darts that day.***)

Ultimately, the wedding was a complete success; nobody accidentally lost/dropped/swallowed the rings, nobody said the wrong name during the ceremony, etc.****

And my worries that the day would be a chore disappeared just like the illusion of an oasis does in the mind of a thirst-crazed desert-wanderer who ends up eating sand.*****

No bum marriage here.

Bummer.
Mirage.
Bummirage.


* "Duds" meaning "fancy clothes," and not "things that don't explode."
Though to be fair, our fancy clothes did not explode.

Cummerbund.
Bungled.
Cummerbungled.


** I threw in that "etc." to make it seem like there was more to that list, when in fact I believe I exhausted every item that could have been on it.

I can't lie to you.

Honesty.
Estimate.
Honestimate.


*** Sure, they might have tasted a bit gamy. Eh? Gamy? Eh?
(And yes, that joke might be a bit hard to swallow or stomach, but try comparing it to how you'd feel eating darts. About the same? Perfect.)

Wordplay.
Plate.
Wordplate.


**** Because the wedding didn't take place in a romantic comedy or a "Friends" episode.
This is real life, people.

Nuptial.
Allegedly.
Nuptiallegedly.


***** At least in Bugs Bunny cartoons.

Bunny.
Near-Death Experience.
Bunnear-Death Experience.

Marathong

Marathon.
Thong.
Marathong.

Poor choice of garment for a race that long.

Underwear.
Weary.
Underweary.

Plumpire

Plump.
Umpire.
Plumpire.

Someone who really benefits from the vertical stripes.

Referee.
Really Fat.
Refereally Fat.

Adulterrycloth

Adultery.
Terrycloth.
Adulterrycloth.

Using a towel that isn't yours.

Philander.
Drying.
Philandrying.

Primpatience

Primp.
Impatience.
Primpatience.

Waiting for someone to perfect their appearance before you can leave the house.*

Delay.
Layers.
Delayers.


* Even though they'd be just as pretty with NO makeup or clothes.
Maybe even more so.
(But perhaps less appropriate for dining out.)

Dress-up.
Supper.
Dressupper.

Subdude

Subdued.
Dude.
Subdude.

I recently worked with a comedian well-known for being very loud and raucous in performance, only to find that off stage he was quite the opposite, very quiet and reserved.

It just goes to show you, you can't judge a book by what it screams at you from the stage.

Literary.
Rageful.
Literageful.

Turns out, also, that most mimes are are loud, obnoxious jerks when they're not wearing makeup and trapped in boxes.*

Marcel Marceau.
So Hypocritical.
Marcel Marso Hypocritical.


* Which would be the opposite for me.
I would be loudest when I WAS trapped in a box.
(And if someone were putting makeup on me against my will.) **

But you know what they say, different strokes for mimes and regular people.
Regular people put their pants on one leg at a time, but mimes only pretend to put their pants on.

Hence, the term "pantomime" and the reason to keep mimes away from your children.

Pantomime.
Imagination.
Pantomimagination.


** The will I refer to here is meant to be my determination in life, but an interpretation as my official last will and testament would suffice as well.
Not that I have plans for any restrictions on makeup in my last will and testament.
e.g. "Do not try to make my body look unnaturally natural."
Though I do believe it would look weird to have my ashes gussied up like that.

Creme de la Creme.
Cremation.
Creme de la Cremation.

Zebrassiere

Zebra.
Brassiere.
Zebrassiere.

Support for the wild horse-like creature that doesn't want EVERYTHING about them running wild.

Breast.
Steady.
Breasteady.

Bazumlaut

Bazoom.
Umlaut.
Bazumlaut.

Two dots over the breast that change its pronunciation.

A new German design from Victoria's Secret.

Punctuated.
Teddie.
Punctuateddie.

Ragamuffintop

Ragamuffin.
Muffintop.
Ragamuffintop.

One who spends too much money on food and not enough money on clothes.

Fashion.
Shunned.
Fashunned.

Or possibly someone who doesn't have any money for food, so they gain weight by eating too much of their clothing.

Starving.
Vintage.
Starvintage.

Edible's not just for underwear anymore!

(Any clothing can be edible if you're hungry enough and/or have powerful enough kitchen appliances.

Inedible.
Blender.
Inediblender.)

Jesuspenders

Jesus.
Suspenders.
Jesuspenders.

WWJW?

(What wouldn't Jesus wear?)

Also can't really see him in anything too formal.

Tuxedo.
Don't.
Tuxedon't.

It would probably see some unfortunate splash action when water-walking.

Miracle.
Cleanliness.
Miracleanliness.

Glamortality

Glamor.
Mortality.
Glamortality.

People wear suits to be buried. Why?*

I don't want to be buried in a suit.
I actually want all my suits to be cremated when I'm dead. Or sooner.
And not just mine. Everyone's. While they're wearing them.

Yuppie.
Pyro.
Yuppyro.

At least the tie probably doesn't cause any discomfort when you're dead.
You certainly never see any angels wearing ties.

Ancient Egyptians, that's another story.

Pharaoh.
Homage.
Pharaomage.

They would be buried with their best outfit, plus all their other outfits (you have to be prepared for all kinds of afterlife weather, plus different afterlife occasions), their money (hope the currency exchange is favorable between life and death), belongings, pets, slaves, you name it.
(Or maybe don't name it, because that might make you feel worse for enslaving it.)

Certainly, if ties existed, they would have worn them. All of them.

Pharaohs were like the first boy scouts, except with not as much gaudy jewelry.

Sarcophagus.
Gussied Up.
Sarcophagussied Up.

I'm actually a little surprised that more modern American celebrities don't pharaoh it up when they die.

Though with botox and face lifts and other plastic surgery essentially being on par with getting oneself stuffed, people are indeed preserving themselves in a beautiful death-like form while still alive.
Close enough.

Taxidermy.
Dermatology.
Taxidermatology.



* Possible answers:
To show people you're a classy dead guy?

Tuxedo.
Dolled Up.
Tuxedolled Up.

To make people angry because they're not as dressed up as your body?

Rancor.
Corpse.
Rancorpse.

To waste a tailor's time?

Sewing.
Inglorious.
Sewinglorious.

Seriously, why not just half a suit?
The half that's visible to the viewers of the open casket.
That way the tailor could save on fabric.

Efficient.
Entirely.
Efficientirely.

Hulcer

Hulk.
Ulcer.
Hulcer.

Bruce Banner gets super upset a lot.

Anger.
Germination.
Angermination.

You would too with the army chasing you all the time, and catching you when you calm down.

Military.
Target.
Militarget.

Good thing his stomach becomes super strong like the rest of him.

Unless his gastric problems increase proportionally as well (reason enough to be upset), tearing his stomach apart like his purple pants.

Half-ass.
Fashion.
Halfashion.

Also, it's unfortunate that he only gets stronger when angry.
One would face less serious problems if strength were associated with a different emotion.

e.g. "Don't make me happy. You wouldn't like me when I'm happy."
"Why not?"
"Because you're attracted to my intelligence, and happiness makes me big and dumb.
I guess it's true what they say about bliss and ignorance.
Oh, also my skin turns green.
Maybe I should start saying 'You wouldn't like me when I'm ugly.'"
"Oh, Bruce, I'll like you no matter what."
"Really? I'm so happy! Hulk smash!"
"Ooh. Never mind. I see what you meant."

Sure, life is still hard, but at least the military leaves you alone.

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.

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.

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 .)