Friday, April 29, 2005

NAME-DROOPING

A new addition to the Big Book of Bunkum:

name-drooping (n.) the tell-tale sign of a wilting wunderkin who learns that his sagging reputation is not covered under a blanket white-wash insurance policy or protected by a money-laundering machine manufacturer’s warranty

e.g. Dr. Uranus Upthrow, (a prominent spin-doctor and founder of the Institute of Uppish Things), after completing a thorough investigation of the flimsy facts surrounding the untimely demise of a prominent putz named Lord Whatnot, concluded that the chemical detergents used in a leading-edge patented money-laundering process to add a bit of bounce to his cheques had in fact obliterated and mangled his reputation beyond recognition; this finding did not however support the corner's report suggesting that the uppity fellow had played one too many games of whist for his own good and consumed more than the legal limit of fizzy beverages recommended for a 25 lb. pixie ... fortunately for the noble nimrod his name-drooping days were over none too soon.

Contributed by: Vulgus Belcher, a zippy zitherist in the world-renowned “Possom Trot Tabernacle Choir” and full-time American Sign Language pit-boss at the “House of Card Sharks” retirement home (located on the outskirts of Monkey’s Eyebrow, Kentucky)

Saturday, April 23, 2005

PRATAGONIST

A new addition to the Big Book of Bunkum:

pratagonist (n.) 1: the principal pumpkinhead or bleeping beast in a frigging fairystory that’s going nowhere fast 2: the lousy leader of a lost cause 3: a miffed muscle that by its very odd contraction causes the rest of the body parts to mutiny resulting an unexpected landing on one’s buns, buttocks, gluteus maximus, heinie, posterior, rump, or tush.

e.g. If you’ve never seen a Prince Zlatibor of Danmnaglaur whodunnit movie before, be prepared for an unusual delicacy of disembodied voices, whimsical landscapes featuring loos with no handles, and cutting-edge digitally-enhanced 3-D jolly green giants sporting a loose narrative trajectory, not to mention a big brouhaha at the Awful All-Ireland Traditional Music Competition started by a purple-faced pratagonist named “Twinkle Toes” who enjoys looking for a good time anywhere he can find it, or seeking a new beginning in a small Texas town called Ding Dong (which has no flute or fiddle players but more than enough shooting-from-the-hip opportunities to keep everyone there happy).

Contributed by: The Right Honorable James Offleyhoo, a mid-life man in crisis who appreciates a hearty ale, the dulcet tones of a fluglehorn, and a pretty pair of legs when he can see them without the aid of his trusty monocle