Wednesday, 5 May 2010


With one day to the General Election and three days until we go on our holiday, I find that my eyes are rolling skywards more than usual because, in addition to the aforementioned, the wind direction is shifting Iceland's most infamous export back this way - but nil desperandum, we are looking forward to a week Greece..... that is if the air traffic controllers come back to work in time to let our plane (that may or may not take off on schedule) land..... so I thought I'd post the below now in case I don't get back before autumn:

The 2010 Washington Post's Yearly Neologism Contest

Once again, The Washington Post has published the winning submissions to its
yearly neologism contest, in which readers are asked to supply alternative
meanings for common words. The winners are:

Coffee (n.), the person upon whom one coughs.

Flabbergasted (adj.), appalled over how much weight you have gained.

Abdicate (v.), to give up all hope of ever having a flat stomach.

Esplanade (v.), to attempt an explanation while drunk.

Willy-nilly (adj.), impotent.

Negligent (adj.), describes a condition in which you absentmindedly answer
the door in your nightgown.

Lymph (v.), to walk with a lisp.

Gargoyle (n), olive-flavored mouthwash.

Flatulence (n.) emergency vehicle that picks you up after you are run over
by a steamroller.

Balderdash (n.), a rapidly receding hairline.

Testicle (n.), a humorous question on an exam.

Rectitude (n.), the formal, dignified bearing adopted by proctologists.

Pokemon (n), a Rastafarian proctologist.

Oyster (n.), a person who sprinkles his conversation with Yiddishisms.

Frisbeetarianism (n.), (back by popular demand): The belief that, when you
die, your soul flies up onto the roof and gets stuck there.

Circumvent (n.), an opening in the front of boxer shorts worn by Jewish men.

The Washington Post 's Style Invitational also asked readers to take any
word from the dictionary, alter it by adding, subtracting or changing one
letter, and supply a new definition. Here are this year's winners:

1. Bozone (n.): The substance surrounding stupid people that stops bright
ideas from penetrating. The bozone layer, unfortunately, shows little sign
of breaking down in the near future.

2. Foreploy (v): Any misrepresentation about yourself for the purpose of
getting laid.

3. Cashtration (n.): The act of buying a house, which renders the subject
financially impotent for anindefinite period.

4. Giraffiti (n): Vandalism spray-painted very, very high.

5. Sarchasm (n): The gulf between the author of sarcastic wit and the person
who doesn't get it.

6. Inoculatte (v): To take coffee intravenously when you are running late.

7. Hipatitis (n): Terminal coolness.

8. Osteopornosis (n): A degenerate disease. (This one got extra credit).

9. Karmageddon (n): its like, when everybody is sending off all these really
bad vibes, right? And then, like, the Earth explodes and it's like, a
serious bummer.

10. Decafalon (n.): The grueling event of getting through the day consuming
only things that are good for you.

11. Glibido (v): All talk and no action.

12. Dopeler effect (n): The tendency of stupid ideas to seem smarter when
they come at you rapidly.

13. Arachnoleptic fit (n.): The frantic dance performed just after you've
accidentally walked through a spider web.

14. Beelzebug (n.): Satan in the form of a mosquito that gets into your
bedroom at three in the morning and cannot be cast out.

15. Caterpallor (n.): The color you turn after finding half a grub in the
fruit you're eating.

And the pick of the literature:

16. Ignoranus (n): A person who's both stupid and an asshole.


Sage said...

Very funny and so appropriate xx xx

Anonymous said...

Foreploy - that's where I've been going wrong! Does strike me we could come up with a set of similar from the 'good old days' - e.g.
'Domestic violence' - whipping recalcitrant servants;
'Bobby' - chap who turned up to put everything right after plodding through the rain; feared ear-clipper;
'Politician' - unpleasant chancer largely ignored by those in real power;
'Balance of payments' - term used by economists before we trusted bankers to get us everything for nothing:
'Teacher' - useful childminder allowed to prepare brats for domestic violence (see above);
'Polling Day' - source of much amusement for the Queen, watching her charges' belief that voting brings any change wither whilst trying to select good apples from a rotten barrel.

Hogday said...

Sweeney: Crumpled suit, smelling of beer and fags and first thing he says is "Squad" out of corner of mouth.

Hogday said...

Area Beat Officer: Carries big bag of fresh fruit, meat and other perks of the job; patches on knees from begging for every weekend off; pockets sewn up to prevent removal of pens, pocket book.....

TonyF said...

:-D :-D

Testiculation: Waving arms about whilst talking bollocks.

CI-Roller Dude said...

Wow, I actually know some people who think that's how you use those words... 'cept they kan't spill em' rite.

Stressed Out Cop said...

Enjoy your holiday

You might be OK for consultation re baton gunning - but don't accept a cheque in payment .. strictly cash !!!!!!!!!!

Hogday said...

Stressedout: I'm taking a banner which when unfurled reads, !Oi Stavros, I'm a F`ing tourist, you need my F`ing money, so get me a F`ing lamb kebab". I should be ok with that don't you think?

Tony: :))

CI: Yup, I think I know them too, any street corner, any bar, anytown :)

Anonymous said...

Have a good one Hog. I would avoid the term 'fakilaki' if venturing into failed Euroland. It roughly translates as 'how much do I have to bribe you not to spit into my soup waiter/pass my driving test etc.', but with our accent there may be some loss in translation and may lead to a compromising situation with a Laki and several year's imprisonment for plane spotting.
Teaching in Athens some years back I insisted on some viva voces (oral examinations) in an attempt to discover which of several students might have actually written the essay all had submitted with minor variations. The first half-dozen seemed unusually intimidated, but spoke enough English to make me think they might have read the set text. The next, the daughter of a shipyard worker I had a few drinks with, split her papers on the floor, and looking up from her knees as though proposing marriage, explained, 'But Dr. Smith, I have already satisfied Professor Stavros on oral grounds'. Under my howls of laughter, it dawned on my rather innocent soul that the fakilaki ran rather deeper than the few bottles of Metaxa lined up on my office shelves.

Hogday said...

Allcopped: Ta. I'll be taking my Canadian passport just in case anyone out there has read today's Daily Mail - highly unsubtle ploy to scare its readers into voting a certain way `or we'll burn like Athens` OMG :-/

Anonymous said...

I am off on my travels too. Norway - which may be a haven of a certain sanity. I've found the blogosphere somewhat disappointing other than for the odd bit of wit and am going into retreat to see if I can finally publish some stuff I've tried to write for about 20 years. About the only conclusion I've reached is that things haven't changed much and I always feel better as an exile. Might well be time to see if I can earn enough to make that a permanent condition.

I had a book of 'wordicles' once, the best being the 'septic tank model of organisation - the really big chunks float to the top'. I have seen little to contradict this or Sod's Law.

Blue Eyes said...

Great post!

Hope you are suitably burned by now :-)