Tuesday, 21 April 2009
"Look here, now, I don't understand a word you're saying. Come out with it then."
"Oh bloody hell. Sea strapped?"
"Nnnnn. Nnnnn. sestrapped! Uuuh. Nnnnck"
"Hold on now, don't get your knickers in a bunch. What are you going on about..."
Emily had jaw surgery and her jaws are clamped shut. William cannot for the life of him understand her. Emily, beyond frustration, gives up and walks away. William pours himself a coffee from the coffe pot. He finishes his coffee and peers out the front window. William wonders where Sylvia is. She was suppose to come 'round to pick him up at eight o'clock sharp. William paces a bit, then opens the door to have a look. Perhaps Sylvia is just coming down the street. William glances at his watch and begins to fidget. he really doesn't like to be late. This Sylvia business really takes the cake.
Sylvia is at home. She had been bringing in her bloomers an hour ago, when the cat ran by, chased by a dog from down the street. Sylvia lost her balance and fell flat into a soppy puddle of gooky mud. She went in to change. She would have still been on time to pick up William, however, in her hastea and hurry, she dropped her purse into the laundry shute with her soiled garments. Upon trying to retreive it (her purse had not gone all the way down), she found she had shimmied herself into a bind and could not for the life of her twist herself out. Sylvia was a quick thinker. She would call Emily. Emily always knew what to do.
Emily decided the best course of action would be to tell William that Sylivia was stuck. He was good at getting people out of binds. That was his job, after all. Unfortunately William could not understand a word Emily told him. Quite frustrated, Emily went off to cool down a bit. She would take Maxy on a walk. That would do her some good. But Maxy was nowhere to be found. "Always running off," she thought to herself. "Probably chasing that cat again..."
Thursday, 9 April 2009
Friday, 3 April 2009
Wednesday, 1 April 2009
Monday, 30 March 2009
Saturday, 28 March 2009
Friday, 27 March 2009
Tuesday, 24 March 2009
Saturday, 21 March 2009
Wednesday, 18 March 2009
Mind, if the muse is made of mussel rather than muscle, then by all means, be musseled by your muse.
For those of us who prefer muscle, well, if this muse happens to have muscle, in the right places, by all means then, let's be muscled. Muscle museled.
Hip Hip Hooray! A muscley muse has me museled! Hip Hip Hooray.
Now... where were we... Shhh.
Tuesday, 10 March 2009
Tuesday, 24 February 2009
Saturday, 14 February 2009
Look no further. We've got what you 've been looking for. We're Subro.
Whay are we called that? Because this is the place you can find that super bro.
It's free to join subro. You don't pay until you find your subro.
Try Subro today!
Some restrictions may apply. Subro is not responsible for lost luggage, misplaced keys, burned love letters, orthodontics, hemophelia due to subro overload. Subro does not condone the misuse of denture kits, sponges, condoms, costume props, oils, or fresheners.
Friday, 13 February 2009
We do it all the time. We choose what words we want to use, want to hear. We chose what we like to read based on them. We wordsess.
In our everyday communications we are wordsessing. How many times has someone said something that just rubbed you the wrong way? If only they had wordsessed their words with a bit more care, then perhaps what they were trying to tell us would rub us the right way instead, and thus a decent conversation could come of it.
We assess words all the time. Now we can label this action. We wordsess. Everyday.
Tuesday, 10 February 2009
It could mean many things and we will be endeavouring to find a meaning in the very near future. Until then, it's back to my expedition and plenty of nice cocktails with glace cherries and little titivations.
Saturday, 7 February 2009
Skimvbol have been a well kept secret of remote tribes in Zimbabwe, only recently having been recognized outside the private tribal sector, due to vast migration into larger scale cities. Skimvbol is not only considered a delicacy, but also a gift from the gods to their "chosen people". It is believed that misuse of these tiny critters can cause severe disruption of natural order and extreme punishment from the gods.
One would think that the Zimbabwean government would be sensitive to such matters. However, with the spread and excitement of democratic rule and the possibility of economic power, these skimvbol represent a fast track to the top.
Our very own JAS is in the deeps of Zimbabwe as we speak, God bless him. Cut off from the rest of the world with only sporadic reception and limited PC use. Dodging the line of fire and, with any luck, taking sides.
With Dyslecsics Dictionary, your source for World News, this is Frieda Babbley, signing off.
Wednesday, 4 February 2009
These decaying fruits offer nought, they merely exist in another dimension- waiting to be discovered and enjoyed, but like wine that has turned sour or lilies that fill the air with a foul stench of death, these fruits are short lived.
Looking at these thifulfs, we are reminded of our own eventual demise- a fate we must all face.
1. more than stellar
2. beyond the stars
If your teeth are so white they ding with a blinding sparkle, you've been using Mellar toothpaste. The toothpaste for the true celebrity. The toothpaste that says, "I'm more than just a star, I'm mellar! ding"
Preferred toothpaste of The Church of Scientology.
Mellar may cause molar jaw, dyslexia, arrhythmic heart palpitation, lazy eye, constipation, diareah, ambrosia, blindness, uncontrollable orgasm, malaise, severe weight gain, claw foot, scoliosis, abdominal bleeding.
Consult your doctor if tooth failure occurs.
Stop using if you experience heartburn, sadness, elation, loose joints, sympathy, nostalgia.
Tuesday, 3 February 2009
see post skuvi
Around the world, every second, hundreds of skuvi words are dying from malnutrition and disease. They have no hope. Their government is as malnurished and penniless as they are. Their letters are bloated as they sit in makeshift shelters, naked and listless, surrounded by dirt and flies, waiting for your sponsorship.
Here's how you can help.
Read read read.
Pray pray pray.
Use use use.
Give a crap.
This last one is the most important and helpful thing you can do for a skuvi. If you don't give a crap, then you won't be using them, or praying for them, or reading them. This is the saddest thing that can happen to a skuvi word in desperate need.
Don't know how to give a crap? Donate. Misfortune can become a fortune. For just 10 dollars a day, you can feed, clothe, and offer medical attention to your very own skuvi. In return, we'll send you a photo of your very own sponsored skuvi word. You can define it, read it out loud, hold it while you pray. Use it throughout your day. Give a crap. We do, how about you?
JAS and Frieda are glad to accept: paypal / mastercard / visa / american express / discover card / money order / cold, hard, cash
Monday, 2 February 2009
Pronounced foxy-ffff. This is a type of very sexy hat that was the precursor to the pill box or flying saucer hats seen at weddings in the 1980's.
Sunday, 1 February 2009
Thursday, 29 January 2009
Diana Dors, Britain's answer to Marily Monroe. Sexy, sultry and with a pneumatic figure to die for. The animated character Jessica Rabbit is based on Diana Dors in So Long as They're Happy. Some snaps have been included because it REALLY annoys me when folk say Jessica Rabbit was based on Marilyn Monroe.
Wednesday, 28 January 2009
Tuesday, 27 January 2009
Monday, 26 January 2009
Saturday, 24 January 2009
Arlet comes from the word harlot. Tok comes from the tick tock of a clock that took your parts away. In other words, fashion that sells itself by selling yourself, one limb at a time, in exchange for cold hard cash… and infamous fame.
In today’s fashion industry, it is a dog eat dog world. It is cut throat, literally. You would be hard pressed to come out of it all in one piece. If you’re smart, that is.
More bang for your buck is what you get with arlettok fashion; if you’re lucky enough to get the limb that bangs when you give away your buck.
Take this next piece, for example: Hairy arm, sporting a one-of-a-kind, cashmere, dishtowel cuff with giant pearl by JAS.
This is a prime example of arlettok fashion. What makes this arlettok fashion, you may ask? Why, the hairy arm of course. With the purchase of this cuff, you get to take it home with you. You may share it with your friends. You may look at it from afar, or up close. You may photograph it (royalties may not apply if you’ve paid enough).
Friday, 23 January 2009
Monday, 19 January 2009
Saturday, 17 January 2009
Pronounciation: kol see ya’ nay, or kol shayn, or kol see yen, or kol sy yan
· Common sex
· Common dog
· one from kolsy
· common drug
Take your pick. This fabulous word crosses international lines. It is distinguishable only by those who use it or take it.
JAS will enlighten us on the meanings of the first three, as he is worldlier than I. And I will attempt to explain common drug (by association only mind you).
Kolsiane is commonly known as a pre-war drug. Its psycho-deteriorate affects were used in the military during drafting to raise spirits, so to speak. My grandfather, for example, was prescribed Kolsiane before WWII in order to gain courage. And courage he did gain. Kolsiane is reported to stay within the system for years, clinging to the pancreas, causing digestive disruption, colorful discharge, and an excess of hair follicle stimulation. Its effects leave as quickly as they come, causing serious mood swings and paranoia.
Wednesday, 14 January 2009
Had to hear from a friend of a friend that you were telling it around that I had borrowed a suit of yours under false pretenses and that your suit was never returned to you; that I deliberately passed on your calls, and that I stood, snickering behind the peephole of my front door when you came round to call. I would appreciate your not marking my reputation by suggesting that I am a con-fart aka knart. Our friendship, as far as I am concerned is now thwarted beyond repair. You are now labeled a dicro in my book. As for your bloody suit which you presented me for my birthday, I have taped a clipping of it to the front of this postcard and label you dicro indian giver!
Mad as hell,
P.S. You can find the rest of your damned suit in the rubbish bin out the neighbor's garage.
Tuesday, 13 January 2009
Monday, 12 January 2009
So what is a knart or a dicro? Well, let's see if we can verify matters for you. (Note the pun, please; I don't get many of these in.)
A knart is something between a con artist and a fart. I think you catch my drift here. Someone who tries to be sneaky but does not succeed at it.
A dicro would be a bit uglier. A dick rover if you must know. Someone who is just plain mean and doesn't care that they are mean and runs you over without giving it a second thought.
So now that we are up to speed with those two security verifiers, lets try to be nicey nicey. You definitely won't want to be called either one.
Sunday, 11 January 2009
A Spottl Prouac is more commonly known as a person for whom every smile has been used up. This is similar to reproductive differences between the sexes, namely a woman is born with a finite number of eggs, whilst a male can seemingly produce a limitless supply of sperm from adolescence onward.
Friday, 9 January 2009
- It makes me look normal
- I am uneducated
- I am uncouth
- I don't care enough about you to "use my words"
- I am worried about what you will think of me if I try to be myself
- I don't care enough about my language to learn to speak it properly
- I am not attractive or sexy in any way shape or form
- I think I'm cool but I'm really not
- I don't know what I am saying
- I have nothing to say
- I can't express myself
- I don't respect you or myself enough to use my thoughtful and creative words
- I love to wash my mouth out with used soap
The list goes on and on. I believe you get our point.
If this doesn't make sense to you, look at it this way, it's like crying wolf. Say fuck or shit, for example, enough times and you are likely to get overlooked when you're really in a bind. "What's the matter with him," someone will ask when your arm has been severed or you're getting mugged. "Oh, he's just talking," someone else will say. Is that what you truly want? If so, by all means, have at it your way. But do take a good think about this.