Tuesday, 21 April 2009


"Ses who?"
"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


Tautwar should never be confused with totwear. Ever.

Though you will find that the fit is taut and people will go to war over it.


If you have to ask that question, you are not of the elite tautwar crowd. Turn away now, or stick around and learn something.
Tautwar can only be found in specialty shops. I ne'er say you will never find them in any sort of super store, chain store, or flea market.

Tautwar is only the elite of miniature person wear.

It is the finally politically correct wear.

And due to it's speciality and comfound softness of material, and uniquely taut fluidness of style and fit, miniature people all over the world have been seen fighting fisticuffs to fistucuffs to bring home as much tautwar as their little hands can carry.

Fad? Not a chance. Tautwar is here to stay.

Friday, 3 April 2009


SPELLE:- now dialect, also SPEL, SPELL
A splinter, chip or fragment.
From SPELLEN (german) to split or cleave.
First used in print in Ascham's Toxophily 1545

A spelle in the heart can be fatal.

Wednesday, 1 April 2009


Snetings. This describes a spider that has died in its own web from either malnutrition or natural causes. Either way its corpse vibrates gently in the breeze, whilst the once beautiful web becomes clogged with detritus.

Snetings also come in a doll's house size, except in this case the spider is, or was, a money spider. Ironically you will need money for this luxury as the snets are hung with simulated dew drops made from D flawless diamonds. No attic would be complete without one.

Monday, 30 March 2009


To mindblog is quite simply to come up with an idea for a blog. Although not a security word, mindblogging is certainly relevant to any blogger, as without ideas for posts, there would be no blog.

It is also a play on mind boggling. In this case, the mind bloggles. This is said aloud when a post contains extraordinary nuggets of brain food. (Formerly known as food for thought.)

Had any good mindblogs today?

Saturday, 28 March 2009


photo found at MusicWeb
A hymplem is a long forgotten baroque in minuet style hymn, scored for operas, accompanied by the gentle plucking of the plem harp. The plem harp was named after Sir Josefto Plem. Sir Plem's was a well know private philanthropist. His great love for musicians, bread loafs, and things that made plucky noises, aspired him to commission Johanne Bloche, Austrian musical instrument maker, to make a miniature hand sized harp. "The sound should exact that of a miniature angel of heaven with which dainty sopranos could easily pluck with their delicate fingers, and should offer a sound that would unwittingly invoke tears to ones eyes." And so the plem was born, and soon thereafter, the hymplem was born.

Friday, 27 March 2009

The Ingies.

The Ingies were related to the Inca, but were much less blood thirsty preferring a nice beaker of hot sweet tea to rivers of blood. Their existence had largely been forgotten until a mountain kingdom was discovered in 1897 by the British explorer Sir Arthur Edward Humphrey Walter Calthorpe-Gofton, or Eddie as he was known.

The Ingies were highly cultured and known for their exquisite use of natural dyes in the making of complex textiles. These have been found on naturally freeze dried corpses of children, scattered throughout the vast and sparsely populated mountain region. These children had been drugged and bound in decorative string before being left to die of exposure. Their bodies have since been used to discover many previously unknown facts about this forgotten civilisation namely:

They ate mouse on toast for tea- a partially digested dinner was found inside a child's corpse.

They wore very thin clothes in cold weather- hence the number of dead children found.

They liked playing games with stones- one corpse was found with big dents in the skull from a large rock which was found close to the child.

They liked weaving and crochet. The team found some lovely doilies that the beakers of hot sweet tea were put on, to prevent scorch marks on the furniture.

A pamphlet on the Ingies can be found in the foyer, along with a box for donations to buy another freezer unit to keep to corpses chilled. We are sorry about the smell of decomposing flesh and the flies. 

Tuesday, 24 March 2009

General Seciescu meets with a grizzly end.

General Seciescu was today murdered outside his presidential palace by an angry mob lead by members of the outlawed opposition party. The mode of death was one with which Seciescu would be only too familiar and indeed gave his name to this humiliating form of torture.

Having left the palace for an official function, he was ambushed and stripped naked before being forced to wear ladies fashions from the decade that taste forgot, the 1970's. He was then lathered in make-up, and forced to wear bright red stilettos before being paraded in front of a baying mob.

In a cruel twist of fate, it seems that these lurid fashion items worked in his favour, namely due to their flame retardant nature, however, a local metalworker came forth with a red hot poker which was quickly thrust into Seciescu's rectum for all to see. He was then decapitated and his head used as a football. 

Perhaps the most humiliating aspect for Seciescu was knowing that video footage would be posted on the Internet for millions to see.  Having studied the footage, it is interesting to note how easily this giant of a man strutted around in 6" heels, which is difficult enough at the best of times, but with an angry mob baying for blood? 

Saturday, 21 March 2009


Troschi are wood folk of the spirit world. They live in enchanted woods and glades where their work is to ensure the continuation of all that is sacred, all that is beautiful.

Without their collective power, there would be no bluebells, no moss, no lichen or common orchids shooting through the cold earth. Indeed everywhere would become barren and unpleasant and life as we know it would cease. It is they who wake each living thing from the slumber of winter. It is they who mourn the death of all living things no matter how small or inconsequential.

Yet these Troschi have been persecuted for centuries as freaks and beings to be laughed at. They were hunted to near extinction, dried, ground up and served as a traditional medicine for every kind of ailment. The very best dried cadavers were mixed with rare oils and goose grease, which was applied to face, hands and genitalia to give the wearer special powers. This was then sealed with pure gold foil, creating a dazzling visual display. 

Troschi is now available in a synthetic form, thus sparing the lives of these beautiful spirits of nature. The hunting of Troschi is now illegal and there is a £10,000 fine and up to a decade in prison if caught and convicted of harming these lovely beings.

You have been warned.


Wednesday, 18 March 2009


Not a bit musseled. Simply led by a muse. Museled.

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


X2341W3 or the Tristr as it is more commonly known, is a star of exceptional beauty that can only be seen during certain atmospheric conditions- namely the aurora borealis or northern lights.

These lights create great shimmering and pulsing washes of green, magenta and blue that arch and sway through the sky and sometimes, just sometimes the legendary Tristr can be seen.

It is said that the light from this star is able to heal all the woes of the world. For centuries it has appeared in many legends and tales of heroism throughout the northern most parts of the world, and symbols can be seen in early cave paintings. It is thought that this is the source of a glass like mineral that can be found in the area and which is reputed to have healing properties.

A word of caution though: should you see the Tristr, your life will be changed beyond all recognition and you must accept these changes else die. Those that have been blessed must live away from the community and never see another human again- though they are richer than Croesus.

Which would you choose dear friend? Which would it be- change beyond comprehension or friends, family and love?

Tuesday, 24 February 2009


Ever wondered how captains of industry make it to the top? 

Liggin, that's how. This means to tell lies and big oneself up in order to gain entry to an interesting event or important job. Want to rule the world? Try liggin.

In reality the person is probably Joe Nobody. Those who are good at telling lies will succeed, whilst the honest perish in the wilderness of a bouncer's wagging finger and shaking head. 

The big lesson here is to walk away without looking at the nice grinning queue of nobodies.

Saturday, 14 February 2009


Looking for a way to connect with that super special someone you haven't met yet? The man you never knew you couldn't live without? The man with the super fab hair and the super fab smile, super strong arms and a heart that won't quit?
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


Episode of an episode that is over.


Wordsess. To asses a word.

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


This is clearly short for something, but neither of us actually has a clue WHAT it is short for, hummmm. Something has been lost in translation- like half the word. Quite why this has been selected I have no idea, still-

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 to spark democratic revolution in Zimbabwe

In the wilds of Zimbabwe, you will find a plethora of skimvbol. In fact, it is the only place on Earth they can be found. These heat and dust loving omnivores not only thrive here, but are considered a festive delicacy, and are served at weddings, coming of age extravaganzas, and funerals, just to name a few. While skimvbol are little know to the rest of the world, including neighboring countries, their existence is so prevalent, now, that the government of Zimbabwe is considering exporting them for hefty profit. This is causing an uproar amongst the smaller tribes that make up the largest part of the country.

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


This is the word for long forgotten web links and posts that hang around in the ether, waiting to be rediscovered. They form a psychic web, not unlike those found in an attic- covered in layers of dust and decay.

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

Give a Crap ~ Sponsor today

Prayer Offerings ~ Sponsor your own Skuvi Misfortunate

see post

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.

Define them.

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.

This sexy number sits a'top the head, like a policeman's helmet. It's terribly glamorous- a real gem in the world of millinery, and it goes so well with the lemon boucle two piece. 

It is believed the name has been shortened from the expression: yo foxy fucker.

We are proud to announce that a small range of these will be available through the site, as made by FB and J A S, both of whom have a fund of experience in all things millinery.

No wedding is complete without one! Shame about the eyebrows though..... very Lutaworm.


Vermila was once used by alchemists as part of their sacred arsenal. It was powerful stuff and its history was passed through secret channels, from Egyptian high priestesses down to the Templar Knights and beyond. Its exact origins remain a mystery as does its composition, but one thing is sure- talk of it will cause those who vibrate on a higher plane to shudder.

During the 17th Century, a tiny supply made its way to Venice where it was used in the production of glass, namely very exquisite mirrors. It was not used as the coating per se, rather it enhanced the luminosity of the reflection. In essence it drew people to the mirror and reflected back something not quite of this earth. It was both enchanting and intoxicating-

But the compound was unstable and tiny fissures, unseen by the naked eye, started to open. Sheer human emotion had caused a dynamic cascade effect and the more these mirrors were used, the more they mopped up. The maid caught admiring herself in her mistresses jewels left a tiny and permanent emotional stain. A man catching sight of himself in flagrante delicto, with a child of the street, left a highly negative charge- and so it went on.

Day. Year. Decade. Each moment was caught and mopped up by the vermila mirrors, until they began to leek a toxic charge into a room. The effects of this are slow and creeping- like the ivy that gently strangles its host. Myriad painful ailments from swollen joints through to cancer can all be traced to this source. What it has been witness to, it reflects back.

These mirrors were eventually banned, however, some still remain- undiscovered in suburbs. It has been hypothesised that this is due to the death of the grand house, with the contents being sold to all and sundry- thus further destabilising the vermila.

Should you vibrate on a higher plane, resist the urge to look into one of these death traps at all cost.

Sunday, 1 February 2009

P O U S T.

This is a post-operative pout, formerly a limp lip that has been given a boost with either an implant or an injectable filler. The latter has been extracted from cadavers, though the manufacturers don't necessarily sell it like this in their promotional material.

Did you not know that? Many of these 'natural' fillers are derived from the dead. In the future the dead will be treasured for their ability to keep the younger generation looking tip-top.

When the oil apocalypse arrives and all the earth's black treasure has been sucked dry, we will be making candles from liquefied human fats, which will fill the house with a pungent aroma and black clouds of human soot. We will be glad of the dim glow, before going to bed at 7pm in the winter blackness.

A consequence of this will be the loss of such a charming word. Enjoy it will you can- and the benefits of the product, just like Jackie Stallone.

Thursday, 29 January 2009

Trussed up in an Excup!

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.

What is noticeable about this production is the red lame dress with the ever so pointy bust cups. The start of this trend can be traced back to  a post world war Britain, where everything was in short supply- including fabric for undergarments.

There was however a surplus of wood from propellers, hummm, what to do? These were used to create thousands of  shoe trees, but when demand dropped a clever but largely forgotten inventor came up with the idea of the Excup. This cunning device acted as the Wonderbra of the day. Two inverted shoe trees formed the basis of the system, on which the bust was supported. These jutted straight out at a 90 degree angle- hence the torpedo shape, just like a shoe tree. 

The client was firstly measured up- a chart with bust size/foot ratio then gave the correct fitting. The shoe trees or Excups as they became known were then attached to a foundation garment which had a series of adjustable straps. These could be raised or lowered depending on the occasion. High for a dance, middling for a country walk and low for a funeral. Strict social codes were adopted- rather like Victorian mourning codes. To create a slightly exaggerated bounce, and inch of spring was left on the shoe tree.

The Excup was not without its problems, chiefly the unreliable and complex system of webbing, which had a nasty habit of self tightening, usually on one side only. This in turn meant that the opposite side would slacken off. The result? Some very nasty accidents- some of which ended in tragedy.

The Excup eventually gave way to the Whirl Pool Brassiere- a much safer option it seems. Though many who lived through the era remember the pleasures of being trussed up in an Excup!

Wednesday, 28 January 2009


shmaza balls
shmaza rolls
shmaza cake
shmaza purim
shmaza soup
shmaza pudding

my little shmaza
shmaza! -bless you.
shmaza dictionary

shmaza me

shmaza you

schmaza who?


A little bit of flour goes a long way...

Much love,


Tuesday, 27 January 2009

Happy Hadidyl.

That's right- Happy Hadidyl!

We were both surprised to see this word pop up in the verification box and especially today, as it is the sacred festival of Hadidyl.

What a marvellous coincidence and all that remains to say is a very, very ....


Don't eat too many Shmaza balls though!

With love, FB & J A S

Monday, 26 January 2009


The Pindosm is a lethal cocktail with a long history. It  was invented in the Late 1920's in a swanky up market bar situated in
New York City. We can but imagine the glamour of the machine age.

The exact recipe was a trade secret for many a long year until the truth was finally discovered after de-classified documents, stored on microfiche, were released to the general public.

It seems that the Pindosm was a suicide cocktail first used after the Crash of '29. For those of a sensitive nature I urge you not to read on. Frieda was particularly upset when we liaised on this article, so much so, she had to compose herself in a darkened room for an hour.

The poison selected to put into a favourite cocktail is still available throughout the world in easy to use sachets containing clear crystals- this is not crystal meth. but something altogether more sinister. 

It is a cruel irony that these crystals are used to prolong the life of cut flowers, yet taken in a cocktail prove lethal. Next time you find yourself cutting open one of these sachets, make sure to scrub your hands raw after or it could be...

Goodnight Vienna!

Saturday, 24 January 2009

Arlettok ~ It might take your breath away.

Arlettok fashion could be all the rage where you live. It could become misunderstood. It could become deadly.

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).
You may stroke it. Even use it to scratch your back.
It is a collector’s piece. It is fashion in its highest form. Its value is not for the faint of pocket, just as it is not for the faint of heart.

Yes, there is more than meets the eye when it comes to arlettok fashion. Question is, how much would you pay, and would you be getting more than you bargained for?
Photo and more information on cuff can be seen in Survive Fashion School and Some Daubs.

Friday, 23 January 2009


This is a collection of security words that have no meaning and that lay forgotten in the Draft box, indeed no-one gives a flying fig about their meaning.

How sad. Frieda and I are starting a sponsorship programme in the very near future, with Frieda supplying details of how you can help. 

God Bless You All.

Monday, 19 January 2009


Well, the bloody cheek of it. J A S will neither be writing about common dogs, common sex nor that GODFORSAKEN PLACE, KOLSKY. FB swore me down she would not mention that whole episode again. (See previous post.)

Instead, today's post is altogether more important and quite literally life changing. 


This refers to unkempt eyebrows- those that grow in any which way and are never ever seen to. This crime is on a par with bitten fingernails and nasal hair. 

When just a young whippersnapper I went for a job interview and was asked to present my hands- so they could be checked for bitten fingernails. All this for a job working with the mentally ill, whom I am sure had better things to worry about, other than the state of my nice clean and neatly clipped nails.

Eyebrows are another thing altogether. They grow and creep out of shape hair by hair. As any eyebrow technician will tell you, even the superfine hairs can make a difference- over pluck these and your once Khaloesque mono-brow will become something out of Dietrich's dressing room. Personally I prefer to restrict my high arches to my feet rather than my face. However by simply removing excess growth, a person's net value career wise, can be doubled or even trebled, though do be careful that they don't give you a permanent look of surprise.


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

Dyslecsic Note ~ Dear Bradley

Dear Bradley,

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.



Unfortunately, due to a technical error (formerly known as a cock-up,) I have lost the reference manual on determining the exact meaning of words. 

I will therefore have to make something up- pull something out of the hat as it were....

Gratoxi means 'have a nice day y'all.' Or does it?

It is a viral word first thought to have been used in California, by all those lovely toned and tanned people. The original meaning stems from grat, meaning gratitude- for looking me up and down, but I don't think so- do you? The second part means toxic, just like Miss Spears sang. (You will now have that tune in your head all day long now.) Simple translation:

Thanks, but get real you ugly muthafucka.

This has mutated into a quasi salutation of friendliness, roughly meaning, I may look friendly, but I'm still waiting for your butt to drop three feet any day soon.

G R A T O X I !

Tuesday, 13 January 2009


There appears to be a typo here, as the word should read re-ere, ere being old English for air. This now makes much more sense. It is rather like that old knart in Emily Bronte's Wuthering Heights. The old manservant speaks in such a thick Yorkshire dialect, that even locals have to either say: 'eh?/what?/speak bloody properly,' or pretend they understand- with lots of head nodding and subtle changing of the subject. We are unable to remember t'old git's name, but we knaw he's a fond o' Bible neet, with thee flaysome temper and references to owd Nick.

One easy tip in trying ta unustands t'auld twat, is ta sup a beaker o' negus, then imagine one is doing quick text with t' barns. Saying it out loud- as it sounds, helps to give meaning to the word or expression. As for us, Frieda and I are just about to go a mumming round the local community, where she will be further explaining the meaning of knart and dicro.

-It has been pointed out by my nemesis here in the UK, dear old Susan, that I have neglected to explain the meaning of reere. I will keep it short and sweet. To reere, means to re-air a room after folk have visited, to remove any nasty odours, especially in the lavatory, with an expensive freshener that purports to 'digest bacteria.' This it may do- but in doing so, it leaves a very unpleasant, sour smell. Imagine pickling vinegar mixed with sour bath sheets that haven't dried properly. Euch. In this case a room must be re-reere-ed.

Monday, 12 January 2009

knart, dicro

Ever been taken for a KNART or a DICRO? It's not a very nice thing. It can set your mood off a few kilometers, that's for certain.

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

Spottl Prouac.

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.

The poor Spottl Prouac has been born with a limited supply of smiles- there is no test for this and it only becomes apparent when the person, of either sex, can no longer smile. What a tragedy- to live ones life being unable to join in with social codes. Still, at least they are unable to give false social smiles, which we are able to sense but rarely do anything about.

The picture has been modified to show how the Spottl Prouac would like to look, with nice white teeth and a Mallen streak, though we doubt that anything will make this personage happy.

Friday, 9 January 2009

Use, Don't Abuse, Your Snappy Shoes

Gretchen Barnbrig of Panchua wrote in with a distressed note. In it, she writes of the word snappy, as in, "Those are some snappy shoes you're wearing," or, "Make it snappy, I don't have all day!" Yes, snappy was her security word two days ago. "I was confused and disoriented," she writes. "If snappy is a real dictionary word, then why is it showing up as my security verifier?"
Rightfuly so, to be distressed, Gretchen. JAS and I have researched this problem, and yes, it is a serious one. Let us explain. Security Verifiers often get misplaced, or rather replaced, by words less commonly used by the general public. They both get booted out of their own homes which are then torn down to build countless condos and appartments of the exact same word to meet public demand and rising populations of miscreants.
Unfortunately, countless dictionary words get discarded and overlooked every day. Layman vocabulary (and vocabulary of other classes quite frankly)leaves much to be desired in the world of variety. You will find that like common variety garden plants that get snatched up for good measure every day, so do common variety words. And, hey, why not. Insert a good "fuck" or a piece of "shit" into any sentence and you've got it made, right? Orgasmed and relieved yourself at the same time!
Wrong and No!
What you are really saying when you're continuously limiting your vocabulary, purposefully or otherwise is:
  • 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.

So what are your alternatives? Well, stub your toe? Why not give a colorful visual. What is it you are seeing in your minds eye? Why not try, "MOUNTAINS OF MARIGOLDS!" Or, "STINKY BUTTONS!" At any rate, it's more likely to get you proper attention, and, in the end, a more satisfying relief from your pain.
You see, hormones released when you find humor in something not only minimizes pain, it also keeps you healthy and trim. Can't go out for a good jog? Why not get in a good laugh instead. Sure you can get good results with a good fuck. And a good shit can skim of the poundage. But a good, heartfelt laugh you can do anytime, any day, anywhere, with anyone, no protection required (unless of course it's at someone else's expense; but that is another post entirely).
JAS and I urge you to vary your words. Relish them. Let them know they have a purpose. Let them in on your emotions, your thoughts, your senses. Without them, you would be nothing. They are there for the taking. They are all wanting to be used. Take advantage of that last thought, as not many people I know are as impatient to be used, and neither will they stick by your side through thick and thin as any decent word will. There should be no reason why a good and true dictionary word should need to seek shelter and sponsorship in Dyslecsics' Dictionary.
That's all for now. See ya later alligator, In a while crocodile, Adios, Alvedezaine, Au Revoir, Chow, Toodles, Peace be with you, Aloha, Adeo, and keep it real.