Road Apples
Jan. 8, 2007
Dan*lin* from the verbal ledge By Tim Sanders So here you are. Let’s imagine that you’ve once again crossed the fearsome foothills of phraseology [WATCH FOR FALLING METAPHORS], climbed the intimidating bluffs of baseless banter, and are now clinging to that precarious precipice known as the Verbal Ledge. Do you have the strength to hang on? No, of course not. Due to some anomaly in the current vernacular, your "strength" has been stripped of its "g," leaving you with nothing but "STREN*TH," which is not a word at all, unless you are Oprah ... or Paris Hilton. Without the use of that all important "g," you lose your *rip, *asp "Oh *od, I’m a *oner," and plummet past surprised *razing mountain *oats into the *aping *orge below. *ood *oing, *omer. But don’t despair. After all, this is only a newspaper column, and you
are not really dangling from any silly old Verbal Ledge, are you? And
regardless, or irregardless if you will, we’ll be glad to answer some of
your grammatical questions. Not correctly, necessarily, but we’ll answer
them anyhow. Q: Okay then, what do you mean by "if you will?" A: Let’s just say, if you will, that I will answer your question, but only if you will raise your hand first, if you will.
A: Certainly: "When Jerome saw the tiny green creature with four arms and eight eye stalks waddle out of the spaceship, climb into his father’s Dodge Ram, run over the mailman, make a U-turn in front of the house, and race away at speeds in excess of 90 mph in a residential zone, blatantly breaking at least half a dozen local and state ordinances, he suspected that he’d had a close encounter with an undocumented worker."
A: Being a professional journalist, I would not have mentioned the cow’s home state of Jersey, and my guess would be that there was no significance to the medical bill the cow gave Mr. Lovatz. My dog brought me a soggy grocery receipt, once, but she meant nothing by it. She only wanted to trade for a biscuit.
A: After Southern word surgeons extract the frontal syllable "to-" from the word "toboggan," only a "boggin" remains. Other syllobotomized Southern words include "mater," "tater," and "gator." Since in the deep South it seldom snows, a single boggin is all that is needed. Wearing two boggins would be superfluous.
A: You can always define a word by breaking it down into its essential parts. "Super" means either "excessive" or "the superintendent of an apartment building," and we are not sure, but we believe "fluous" involves "fluid." Thus, when you combine an apartment building superintendent with excessive fluid, you can plainly see for yourself that it is a medical term having something to do with gout. Next time, try figuring it out on your own without bothering an expert. You will feel like you’ve accomplished something.
A: You cannot expect people who’ve made their bowels chronically spastic
by ingesting things like spotted dick, kidney pie, scones and
toad-in-the-hole to quibble over specific hospitals. As far as they’re
concerned, any hospital will do. Q: Last week my grandfather opened his eyes, looked at me and said, "Jeepers, creepers, where’d you get those peepers, Carlotta?" Then he asked if I remembered where the bathroom was. What does that mean? (By the way, my name is Tiffany.) A: It probably means that he has a tiny bladder. And as to his comment,
you undoubtedly misunderstood him. The original phrase , common at produce
stands in the early 1900s, was "Jeepers, creepers, where’d you get those
peppers?" Also, Carlotta, it would be best if you stuck with your original
name. Changes like that always confuse elderly folks. Q: Why did Little Caesar and the Romans sing "Those oldies but goodies reminds me of you" in their 1961 hit? Shouldn’t that be "remind me"? A: I doesn’t know.
A: Yes I can: "Larry tole Carl that his corn on the cob was impeccable, and Carl he said it was probly on account of his dentures."
A: You were too busy watching the cheerleaders. Q: I enjoy reading the gossip column in our local paper, except that our columnist, Mrs. Leona Postum, is always giving "kudos to so-and-so," and "kudos to such-and-such." Why does she do that? A: There are always people out there, less fortunate than ourselves, who’ve gone through life without a single kudo. My parents gave me my first kudo when I was twelve, and I treasured it for years. Our beagle, Queenie, finally found it in the closet and pulled all the stuffing out. I was heartbroken, but by then I’d saved up enough to purchase another kudo. This one was made out of more durable Naugahyde. All I can say is, God bless Mrs. Postum. If she ever falls upon hard times, and finds herself lying in the gutter without a kudo to her name, I hope somebody gives her a basketful.
A: I pronounce it "AINT," as in "Go tell Aint Rosie the old gray goose is
daid." Q; In a five-paragraph email, how many smiley faces am I allowed? :) LOL A: Dear Lol, I don’t know what the devil you’re talking about, but I’d appreciate it if you’d stop ending your sentences with those annoying colons and parentheses. If you do, I’ll send you a shiny new, gift-wrapped kudo. |