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Post by gams on Jul 16, 2008 7:41:08 GMT -5
LMAO. Me too.... at least four times, and I still don't get it. Here's one the was posted on the other board.... toothsome 1 a: agreeable, attractive b: sexually attractive <a toothsome blonde> 2: of palatable flavor and pleasing texture : delicious <crisp toothsome fried chicken> I've seen the word "toothsome" many times, but never really knew the definition, or paid attention to how the word was used. I think it's interesting how many words like "toothsome" have both culinary and sexual connotations. "Luscious", for example, is a good one. I suppose it's because humans find such euphoric pleasure in both the kitchen and the bedroom; sometimes the room's, like the word's, intended activity can be multi-purposed. A simple word like "taste" can take on quite different meanings depending on the context in which it's used. "Hunger" and "Devour", used in the same sentence, may produce quite an "appetite".....throw in "insatiable", and you've got a very "hot and steamy" description. Speaking of which...it's a humid morning here, and I gotta run now. Time for a cold shower.....or breakfast? |
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Post by gams on Jul 24, 2008 7:06:56 GMT -5
I received the following e-mail, and thought it fits well in this thread.
Here is the Washington Post's Mensa Invitational which once again 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 the winners:
1. Cashtration (n.): The act of buying a house, which renders the subject
financially impotent for an indefinite period of time.
3. Intaxication: Euphoria at getting a tax refund, which lasts until you
realize it was your money to start with.
4. Reintarnation: Coming back to life as a hillbilly.
5. 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.
7. Giraffiti: Vandalism spray-painted very, very high.
8. Sarchasm: The gulf between the author of sarcastic wit and the person
who doesn't get it.
9. Inoculatte: To take coffee intravenously when you are running late.
10. Osteopornosis: A degenerate disease. (This one got extra credit.)
11. Karmageddon: It's 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.
12. Decafalon (n): The grueling event of getting through the day
consuming only things that are good for you.
13. Glibido: All talk and no action.
14. Dopeler Effect: The tendency of stupid ideas to seem smarter when
they come at you rapidly.
15. Arachnoleptic Fit (n): The frantic dance performed just after you've
accidentally walked through a spider web.
16. Beelzebug (n): Satan in the form of a mosquito, that gets into your
bedroom at three in the morning and cannot be cast out.
17. Caterpallor (n): The color you turn after finding half a worm in the
fruit you're eating.
The Washington Post has also published the winning submissions to its yearly contest, in which readers are asked to supply alternate meanings for
common words. And the winners are:
1. Coffee, n. The person upon whom one coughs.
2. Flabbergasted, adj. Appalled by discovering how much weight one has gained.
3. Abdicate, v. To give up all hope of ever having a flat stomach.
4. Esplanade, v. To attempt an explanation while drunk.
5. Willy-nilly, adj. Impotent.
6. Negligent , adj. Absentmindedly answering the door when wearing only a nightgown.
7. Lymph, v. To walk with a lisp.
8. Gargoyle, n. Olive-flavored mouthwash.
9. Flatulence, n . Emergency vehicle that picks up someone who has been run over by a steamroller.
10. Balderdash, n. A rapidly receding hairline.
11. Testicle, n. A humorous question on an exam.
12. Rectitude, n. The formal, dignified bearing adopted by proctologists.
13. Pokemon, n. A Rastafarian proctologist.
14. Oyster, n. A person who sprinkles his conversation with yiddishisms.
15. Frisbeetarianism, n. The belief that, after death, the soul flies up onto the roof and gets stuck there.
16. Circumvent. An opening in the front of boxer shorts worn by Jewish men.
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Post by Quettalee on Jul 24, 2008 23:11:54 GMT -5
 But where's your list, Gams? I know how your mind works; it was cranking them out...probably as you were reading.
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Post by Quettalee on Jul 24, 2008 23:29:02 GMT -5
Mare and I actually have our own list that we add to all the time. It's one of the ways we continue to make each other laugh...and you know how good for you laughing is...  "Tommy-tummy-tongue-tickle" is the latest addition...from earlier...on the couch. Say it fast a couple of times. You can't help but laugh. I'm not sure an elaboration of the definition would prove that it fits on either of your particular lists, but I just thought it would be fun to share!  |
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Post by Quettalee on Jul 24, 2008 23:46:33 GMT -5
I've suffered with these in the past. The fear keeps me from being the first to walk through the courtyard in the mornings. Today's WftW... Topic: Cobwebs & spider webs A correspondent observed that cobwebs can easily be discerned from spider webs and asked what, if anything, links the two terms. Arachnophobes, close your eyes while we spin out the tale: both cobwebs and spider webs have the spider in common. The word spider has kin in the Old English verb meaning "to spin"; but what about the spider web? Spider web names the silk web constructed by a spider especially to entrap prey; the web is composed of a viscid fluid secreted by glands in the abdomen and discharged through minute glands in the spinnerets. The web hardens on exposure to air and tends to have a form consistent within a genus or family. Although the term cobweb can indeed be used for "the network spread out by a spider to catch its prey," that word is also used both for a single thread spun by a spider and for tangles of such thread with dirt and dust that have accumulated and adhered. The cob in cobweb comes from coppe, the Middle English word for "spider." That coppe has an Old English ancestor ator-coppe which meant roughly "poison-spider" or "venom-spider." We can thank the Scottish for the only other coppe-born word still in the lexicon. Ettercap—from the Old English poison-spider—is used in Scottish English for both a "spider" and "an ill-tempered or spiteful person." |
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Post by gams on Jul 25, 2008 23:14:05 GMT -5
It was; and you know I was laughing. And thanks for sharing these "Word of The Day" thingies too, (or WftW...word for the week?) You know I love them.
And yes, I make up my own words....and my own definations to real words, kinda of like the following.
The Wordly News; July 25th
A word I've heard often, especially in the media, is "pundit", and I guess I've always assumed it's meaning without actually knowing its true definition. Usually, I've heard it in combination with "political"...'and now we turn to our political pundit, Mr. So-and-so'; so-and-so I assumed "pundit" meant "correspondent".
I wasn't too far off.
Pundit: n. (1672) 1. pandit (a wise or learned man in India...often used as an honorary title.) 2. a teacher 3. one who gives opinions in an authoritative manner: critic
And then, elsewhere today, in a totally unrelated wordly event ....
A customer came into the nursery with a problem she needed help resolving. "The thugs are eating my hosta."
Thugs? It was on the tip of my tongue, but I held it back, 'If you'd hadn't put up such a fight, and just given those mean thugs your wallet when they demanded it, they'd could have bought a decent dinner, and wouldn't have to resort to eating your hosta.'
Instead, I said, "I think you mean slugs."
"Slugs?"
"Yes, slugs....snail-like, but without shells. They come out at night and eat holes in your hosta leaves. They leave behind a trail of slime."
"Oh, yes, slugs! Those slimy things!"
Two words, maybe three, completely unrelated, with totally different meanings. Or are they, politically speaking?
Political pundit: often a thug-like, opinionated, spineless critic, leaving gaping holes, and a trail of slime behind him.
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Post by Quettalee on Aug 4, 2008 8:31:00 GMT -5
Topic: Picnic
Although it isn't as popular now as when it was first declared, Picnic Day is celebrated in some parts of the northern territory of Australia on this first Monday of August. Originally, this day was picked so that railroad workers in the city of Darwin could enjoy the day on the Adelaide River with their families.
The word picnic first appeared in English print in the mid-1700s. Picnic has an ancestor in the French pique-nique, but English speakers may have first heard the term from the German version picknick.
Although etymologists wouldn't bet the coleslaw on it, the French version may have been formed by reduplicating the verb piquer, "to pick or peck." The original picnic was a social event at which each person contributed food to a common table. Eventually, picnic came to name any informal meal eaten outdoors, such as the ones enjoyed by Australian rail workers.
Near the end of the 19th century, picnic developed a figurative sense: "a pleasant or amusingly carefree experience," or "an easy task or feat." Nowadays, we're most likely to use that sense in a negative context: "Getting through traffic was no picnic."
In Australia and New Zealand, picnic can mean a fuss, or a disagreeable task or experience. So where we would say "Mowing the lawn is no picnic," a Kiwi or Aussie would say "Mowing the lawn is a real picnic."
Would you not have to bundle up from head to toe to enjoy that picnic right now, Kat?
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Post by Joxcee on Aug 4, 2008 15:44:19 GMT -5
That was my thought as well. Why wasn't it in spring or early summer when the weather was warmer? Wouldn't it have been better to have it in October or November?  Unless it doesn't get as cold there as it does here.  Does Australia only get snow in the upper regions (mountains), and not in the lower (valley/plains)?
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Post by gams on Aug 24, 2008 9:25:24 GMT -5
Hey, check this out, Q. Did you know you are probably a locavore, and serve other local locavores at the tea-house?
I saw the word "locavore" mentioned on that site I've been blogging for, and had to see what all the 'loca'mmotion was all about - the word sounds like it would describe a train-eater, and a two-minute drill proved I was way off track on that one.
Wikapedia describes a locavore as "someone who eats food grown or produced locally or within a certain radius such as 50, 100, or 150 miles. The locavore movement encourages consumers to buy from farmers’ markets or even to produce their own food, with the argument that fresh, local products are more nutritious and taste better. Locally grown food is an environmentally friendly means of obtaining food, since supermarkets that import their food use more fossil fuels and non-renewable resources."
Come on, Baby, join the loca-motion. I like to support the farmers in the area by buying local when I can; it kills me that our grocery store will stock produce imported from other states and countries when we have all these fresh commodities available now in season.
I learned that "locavore" made its debut in San Franciso during the World Environment Day 2005, and that the word was The New Oxford American Dictionary's word of the year in 2007.
I also learned that one of my favorite authors, Barbara Kingsolver, is an advocate of eating local foods, and chronicles her family's attempts at being locovores in her book "Animal, Vegetable, Miracle". One more to add to my gotta-read list.
Funny that a word that describes something as being in a close-to-home radius has such far-reaching wordly effects. A word introduced in San Francisco that I was introduced to sitting at my computer in Michigan, by a woman from Kansas who mentioned it in an article, is passed on by me to other wordly friends here who eat up new and unfamilar words like a locavore eats up fresh, juicy tomatos grown in their own backyard.
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Post by gams on Sept 4, 2008 6:46:31 GMT -5
Just a bit of Old Word trivia...
In the 16th and 17th century the word "lentil" also referred to freckles.
Freckle-faced sounds so much cuter than lentil-faced to me.
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Post by gams on Sept 13, 2008 7:10:12 GMT -5
What goes around comes around in a case of the pot calling the kettle black….or something like that.
The Library Biddies, (shudder). I’ve called them that for years, the sweet darlings. The Library Biddies are a no-nonsense bunch, all older women – in their seventies, at least; they are the type who’d rather “ssshhhh” you than say hello, and wouldn’t crack a smile even if tortured with feathers to the bottom of their calloused, wrinkled feet. Blue hair, and pursed lips, with a steely stare that’d make even the toughest of characters shrink at the counter when turning in an over-due book, they are the scariest of old women. Of course, I use the term with the most fondest respects, (eye-roll).
And then there is “Biddy Murphy’s”, a Celtic store here in town, owned by a lovely couple from Ireland…..and the title of which is full of irony if you stop to think about who is calling who what. LMAO at myself; it gets better – read on.
I knew the store was named after the owner’s ninety-some year old grandmother back in Ireland, but couldn’t imagine him naming a store “Biddy” anything, even if she was a cranky old crone. “Cranky Old Crone Murphy’s” just doesn’t have an inviting ring to it.
So I set out to drill for Biddies, and found it has three meanings.
The first comes from the 17th century, and means “hen”, “fowl”, or “chicken” and is thought to have come from the way chickens were called: “Here, biddybiddybiddy” – kind of the way you’d say “Here, kittykittykitty” if you’re feline catty. By the late 18th century “biddy” was transferred from chicken to woman, in the same way “chick” became a slang term for a woman in the sixties.
Biddy: usually disparaging – a woman, especially a garrulous one. Often an old woman.
Oooo, “garrulous”. Now that’s an interesting word. Let’s look it up.
Garrulous: given to prosy, rambling, or tedious loquacity; pointlessly or annoyingly talkative. Wordy.
LMAO. See the shared surname connection?
Anyway…I should stop the pointless rambling, and get on with the reason for “biddy” in the store’s title.
In Ireland, Biddy is a nickname for Bridget; probably the name of the grandmother the store is named for. It is also an all-encompassing term for an Irish servant-maid. The term immigrated to the States along with the Irish in the early 19th century. Many young Irish women had their way here paid by upper-class Americans, who hired the women as domestic servants while they paid off their ship’s passage. This practice was so common that these women became known as “Biddies”, because the name Bridget in Ireland was as common as the practice itself.
It’s now time for Biddy Phalon to go work off my plant debt by serving my customers’ nursery needs in the most garrulous of manners….but always with a smile; never pursed lips or a steely stare. And not old!
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Post by gams on Oct 12, 2008 8:03:20 GMT -5
"The squirrels in my yard are pestersome", said a guy to me at work yesterday.
"Pestersome? Is that a word?" I asked, trying out the word myself because I liked the sound of it.
"I don't know. Did I just make it up?"
Apparently not...in both cases. Pestersome, according to my seven dictionaries, including the Missing P one, which obviously wouldn't list it, is not a word. It doesn't even warrant a mention in the definitions for "pest" or "pester".
But he didn't make it up either. A two minute drill produced 95 websites with some type of reference to "pestersome". Things like "....is unexpectedly interrupted by a pestersome child...", and, "Their secret friendship deteriorated exclusively into pestersome admonishments." "...chased the Wombat, my boyfriend, through a parking lot because he was being pestersome..." That last one makes me wonder what type of people this person dates, and why she would date him if he was being pestersome....or was a wombat. Why would anyone date a wombat?
But these are just instances in which the word "pestersome" was used. There is only one small reference that is an actual definition from the Dictionary.com Unabridged, which I found not on the Dictionary.com Unabridged site, but on DictionaryReference.com. It says "pestersome: adjective of pester".
So when does a word become a word that is recognized by the dictionary writing people? When enough people start using the word? Is 95 references - 96 if you include the guy with the pestersome squirrels - enough to make it a word? Which is more pestersome: Wombat boyfriends or squirrels? Does a word make it to dictionary form if people pestersomely demand to the dictionary writers that they include it? And if "pestersome" makes it into the dictionary, can "pestersomely" be included also as an adverb of the adjective "pestersome"? I like adverbs.
These are the pestersome questions that plague my mind this morning. (eye-roll) I think I'll let this all go by going outside to watch the squirrels in my yard.....which are quite pestersome.
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