Skunkosher

Skunk.
Unkosher.
Skunkosher.

I don't know if any religions outlaw the eating of this animal, but they probably don't have to.

Pepe Le Pew.
Putrid.
Pepe Le Pewtrid.

Vehiclearance

Vehicle.
Clearance.
Vehiclearance.

Yesterday, I went to where I had parked my car to find that my car wasn't parked there.

That's one of the worst feelings there is.

Sadness.
Especially.
Sadnespecially.

Other than suicidality, non-suicidal yet severe psychological depression, less severe but still habitual fairly debilitating depression, stubbing your toe really hard, and probably some others I'm not thinking of right now... Add your own!
(Either in your own head, in the comments section, or both!
And if you can do it in the comments section without doing it in your own head, bravo.)

Mental.
Talking.
Mentalking.

My car had been parked legally, so I called 311 (the information line, not the defunct band).

311 is just like 411 information, but only for a specific type of information. Which makes sense, because it's 100 less than 411.
(So if you have an emergency but you don't want as much help as possible, call 811.)

Emergency.
See Ya?
Emergencee Ya?

311 told me that they had no record of my car being towed.
Normally that's good news, to hear that your car hasn't been towed.
But when your car is gone, it's slightly more not good news.

I now found myself praying that my car HAD been towed, and there was just no record of it yet. (Some sort of vigilante cop towing but not doing the paperwork? A citizen tow-er?*

Vigilante.
Antidote.
Vigilantidote.

Long story (told by a) short (person):

After several more calls to 311, being connected to the ninth precinct of Manhattan which had jurisdiction over the region from which my car went missing, being disconnected from the ninth precinct, walking to the wrong location of the ninth precinct given to me by cops from another precinct while trying to get the ninth precinct back on the phone, eventually reaching them on the phone before I reached the wrong location of the ninth precinct and having a ninth precinct cop tell me the best thing to do would be to go back to where the car went missing from and call 911 and wait, meeting the 911 cops when they finally showed up and learning they were from the ninth precinct, those cops told me to meet them back at the CORRECT location of the ninth precinct.

That's where they said they could check lists of cars that had been moved (but not officially towed--vigilante cops, I was right! but there were lists, so official vigilante cops).

It turned out there had been a street fair in between when I parked and yesterday, and there had been no signs posted about it, so the cops just moved my car down a long block and around the corner.

Did you know they do that? They can just move your car. And you don't have to pay to get it out of a lot or anything, and it wasn't stolen; you just find it nearby and drive it away. Fascists!**

So all's well that started crappy.

Failures.
Resolution.
Failuresolution.


* Pronounced toe-er. Not like the word that follows "Eiffel."
(Though perhaps the citizen tow-er would bring the car to his tall citadel of unofficial justice, the Citizen Tower.
Which is the renamed Eiffel Tower which has been commandeered for this purpose.)

Eiffel.
Felony.
Eiffelony.


** Is that the definition of fascism? It's cool to say cops are fascists, right? Even when they eventually help you?

My apologies. Hooray, cops! Also, I didn't see any of them eating any donuts. Not really fascist, not many donuts... we're breaking down cop stereotypes left and right! If only I was a different race that is usually mistreated by the law, then this prejudice-dismantling trifecta would be complete.

Gallantry.
Trifecta.
Gallantrifecta.

Hungovery

Hungover.
Very.
Hungovery.

If I were, I wouldn't have the wherewithal to write this.

(I wouldn't even have the wherewithal to come up with the word "wherewithal.")

Wherewithal.
Hallelujah.
Wherewithallelujah.

I've only been VERY hungover twice in my life, because after the first time, I swore I would never let it happen again, it was so horrible.

Then I forgot, hence the second time.

Forgetful.
Foolish.
Forgetfoolish.

Did you know, Savannah is one of the few places in the country where you can take a to-go cup of alcohol outside of a bar, legally?

I should have taken advantage of that law.

Because that would have taken me AWAY from the bar and its free drinks which would lead to the ultimate battle the next morning between my brain and my stomach, a painful battle over whether more fluids should be allowed in to replenish those lost (the brain's desire, in order to diminish the pain) or whether no fluid should ever be allowed to enter the body and stay there again (the stomach's desire, as it had been burned by certain fluids the night before).

Fluid.
Idiot.
Fluidiot.

So, let this be a lesson to you. Or to me, at least.

If you swear never to do something ever again, remember that you swore not to do it.

Especially if the the thing that you swore not to do is the sort of thing that would attack your capacity to remember even more in the future.

Memory.
Moratorium.
Memoratorium.

Hassleep

Hassle.
Asleep.
Hassleep.

I've never had trouble sleeping, which got me into trouble once while driving.

I got a ticket for making an illegal turn, because apparently it is not lawful to go off the road, through a fence, and into a telephone pole.

Automobile.
Illegal.
Automobillegal.

Smurphy's Law

Smurf.
Murphy's Law.
Smurphy's Law.

Anything that CAN go smurf, WILL go smurf.

Gargamel.
Melodrama.
Gargamelodrama.

Legallantry

Legal.
Gallantry.
Legallantry.

I once considered going to law school, because of how many legal TV shows I've enjoyed.*

(I especially like Boston Legal.)**

Legislative.
TV
LegislaTV.

It looked like fun, but I imagined there might be more to the law than just being smarmy and hilarious, so I ultimately decided against it.

Probably a good idea, considering I didn't even want to put in the minimal research needed to find out how much research would be involved in actually being a lawyer.

Unless you count reading John Grisham.

Dumbest.
Bestseller.
Dumbestseller.

Also, just because someone enjoys watching something, it doesn't necessarily follow that they'd enjoy DOING that something.

For example, I've also enjoyed Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Oz, and 24, but I don't want to fight vampires, be assaulted, OR torture even proven enemies of the state.***

Because I'm a pacifist, a coward, AND a liberal.

And there would probably be too much research involved.

Figures.
Research.
Figuresearch.


* Legal TV shows that may have been downloaded and watched illegally, ironically.

Pirated.
Attorneys.
Pirattorneys.


** Boston Legal episodes that may have been watched in Boston, non-ironically.

Has-Been.
Beantown.
Has-Beentown.


*** I might torture anti-American vampires that are assaulting me, if it comes to that.

Hypocrite.
Creative.
Hypocreative.

Boardwawkward

Boardwalk.
Awkward.
Boardwawkward.

When I was a child, I was apparently very good at Monopoly.

Relatives suggested that I should become an accountant when I grew up because of this.
(Also because I was Jewish.* Or at least Jewy-ish.)

Jewish.
Wishy-Washy.
Jewishy-Washy.

But I honestly wasn't interested in real life banking.

I knew I was supposed to want to do something to make money, but I didn't know what to do.

Employment.
Mentality.
Employmentality.

So I decided that I wanted someone to hire me to just be myself.
Someone rich who could afford to support my lifestyle** in exchange for being entertained.

Financier.
Serious.
Financierious.

Like a court jester to a king.
(But with less chance of having my head cut off.)

Clown.
Ownership.
Clownership.

And look--that stupid and beautiful dream has sort of come true!

I jest for a living, and I occasionally go to court.
(There's some of that jesting!)

And sure, I might not work for a specific king, but I do entertain masses of people, and in a democracy, masses of people are king, right?
(I'm no political-ologist.)

Uncommon.
Monarch.
Uncommonarch.

So my wildest Monopoly dreams have come true...
I travel by thimble, my career has passed Go and I'm sure I've collected at least $200.

(Sorry I don't know the exact amount--I'm not an accountant.)

Ecstatic.
Statistics.
Ecstatistics.


* Jewish grandmothers are mandated to push for their children to join our holy trinity of stereotypes: the doctor, the lawyer, and the accountant.

Kosher.
Heroes.
Kosheroes.


** My lifestyle at the time consisted mainly of Spider-Man comic books.
Financing it would have been a bargain.
(Sorry, potential financiers who don't have time machines.)

Chronology.
Apology.
Chronopology.***

I've come a long way since then.
Now my lifestyle is comic books AND Netflix.
(And blogging, but that's on me.)


*** Monopoly's sequel.

Where you magically travel back in time to make good financial investments.

Capitalism.
Talisman.
Capitalisman.

Spiderived

Spider.
Derived.
Spiderived.

Peter Parker got his crime-fighting abilities as a result of being bitten.

Arachnid.
Nip.
Arachnip.

Some see that as far-fetched, but this sort of thing definitely happens in real life as well.

For instance, if a rabid dog bites you, you get a rabid dog's ability to foam at the mouth.
It might not be the ideal super-power, but it should at least stop criminals from robbing YOU.

Mugger.
Germaphobe.
Muggermaphobe.

It might not stop the cops from coming after you, though.
Or at least animal control.

Rabies.
Beast.
Rabeast.

(That could be your super-villain name.)

Paradimebag

Paradigm.
Dimebag.
Paradimebag.

Marijuana has been decriminalized in a lot of places these days.
Better than jail, but you'll still want to keep your decriminal record as clean as possible.

Plus, you can still be ticketed and fined as though you've committed some kind of parking violation.

Hydrant.
Antics.
Hydrantics.

Now, I could make an easy joke here about how they'll ever collect with potheads forgetting to pay the fines (and I just did, barely), but sincerely, what will the authorities do when those violations pile up?

For parking tickets, eventually they'll put a boot on your car.
For pot, will the cops put a boot on your face?

That's just what they used to do before the decriminalization.
Has nothing changed?

Facial.
Shellacked.
Faciellacked.

Maybe I'm wrong.
Maybe things are different.
Maybe they'll just tow you. Or your bong.

And have you work off your debt by washing dishes in prison.
Where you can get high by snorting dish soap, now also decriminalized.

Municipal.
Palmolive.
Municipalmolive.

Convictory

Convict.
Victory.
Convictory.

1) As a noun: A jailed felon's win over another jailed felon. (Perhaps in a shiv-making contest.)

2) As a verb: To win, as a prosecutor over a defense lawyer. (Perhaps in a shiv-making contest.)

3) As an adjective: Having the least homemade stab-marks in you.

Stab.
Tabulation.
Stabulation.

Bootlegos

Bootleg.
Legos.
Bootlegos.

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

Taboo.
Booty.
Tabooty.

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.