WOW #59

Here’s a soft, sweet piece of nostalgia for this week’s Word Of the Week

POTSY

Potsy means = hopscotch, and several dictionary websites have no idea why, except to say that it is an Americanism, first noted 1930 – 35.  The ‘scotch’ in hopscotch is a line – cut, or scored – made a mark.  This is why Macbeth said, “We have scotched the snake, not killed it.”  Sweet butterscotch is removed from a large, flat sheet by cutting or scoring it.  I thought that butterscotch was a gateway drug for teenage drinking.  You loved Butter Beer at Harry Potter’s, now try our single malt – Butter Scotch.

Potsy

In the popular TV series, Happy Days, Anson Williams played the character of Potsy (actually, Potsie) Weber, which matched the goofy, likable character of Skippy, in the Family Ties series.  Both nicknames may have been applied because of their nerdy, ADHD type of erratic behavior, bouncing and skipping from subject to subject.

Potsy (or Potsie) is obviously just a nickname, and not very common.  Other than the Happy Days reference, the only other ‘Potsy’ I could find was Thomas Clinton –Tom – ‘Potsy’ Jones (1909 – 1980), who played NFL football for eight years in the early 1930s, for four different teams.

Despite extensive research (alright, I Googled it and got no answer), I can’t find how/why/when he acquired it.  Now that Canada has legalized marijuana, I wonder if we’ll start hearing of more Canucks named Potsy, who are One Toke Over The Line.

It would be sweet if you’d hop back here on Monday, to see what verbal abuse I’ve inflicted on the English language, in the name of the letter F.  There’s no need for social distancing, so you won’t have to form a line.  😀

Jabberwocky

Jabberwocky

In my Poetry In Motion post, I groused that the poetry of some WordPress authors didn’t make a lot of sense. YOU AIN’T SEEN NOTHIN’ YET!! There is a small group of posters who don’t write poetry…. but what they do write can’t be classed as prose, either. I think a couple of them have swallowed random word generators – or non-prescription medication. They may be the authors of some of those strangely-worded spam comments that you get. Here are some examples.

I was heard the sea and are like unto the leopard and made the great favour with his neck and said Figold was handsome.

At a little finger is the sky where she had given to divert the latest news who have his dead and cried but Horn stayed at sunrise.

That would not recognising him to seawhere may be preserved from his real name and as he heard a band of brotherhood we will give birth and he heard these saw her! Better thou wilt hear the guardians of some evil would sooner be the offing.

HUH?? That was actually one of the more comprehensible. Here’s another.

We have the hand when I shall rather live, we are unconscious life of April last are enigmas.

To us that I will superintend their Circulating and in a square hole in the mischief-makers in reforming and in the funny books too large results given by Christian name, which they cover.

The responsibility of Socrates.

It exploded in us.

They are the country as the medium of independence, of taking the mature age of that things unto this particular I lifted my mind.

Notwithstanding, we might after the mental, moral wound within him.

Perhaps he has furnished great degree, and cutting off his wide from her own personality, however great.

Even the tanks, you that for we read in the seen within it, the Patriarch Nerses to accomplish some old as sensibly alters their planes and artists, leisured people, whilst it can solve some observations on Allison’s Fort and butchered before we got another example of dealing out a chapter of Nerves preserve their fatherland.

Is this some kind of code?? Are we supposed to read every fourth word?? Who spends the time and effort to type out and post this kind of thing – and why?? There seems to be a group of about 6 authors, who each can publish 2 or 3 posts every day of this kind of nonsense gobbledygook. I am at a loss to find any meaning or justification. Are they Pentecostals, “Speaking In Tongues??” Anybody got any idea…. or a translation?

Which Of These Would You Ban From The Dictionary?

Bookburning

This post began when I read a post from another blogger, ranting about Kendall Jenner using the word, gnarly.
Whenever I read about Kendall Jenner (as seldom as I can), I always think of a Ken doll. They both have about the same IQ rating, although Jenner probably contains more silicone.

There is a song, currently being offered on YouTube, by Lady Gaga and Bradley Cooper, titled In The Shallow, from the remake of the movie ‘A Star Is Born.’ A tune about being shallow??! At first I thought it was the theme song from the ‘Keeping Up With The Kardashians’ TV program.

There are many words and phrases, (over)used in the vernacular, which I would like to hear and see far less often. They become like profanity, just verbal punctuation marks, used by people too lazy to think of something better. Any word, used too often, will begin to sound strange, and irritate. Try repeating the word ‘pumpkin’ to yourself, out loud, ten times, and see how it begins to sound weird. It doesn’t even look right on the page.

There are no ‘bad’ words – only words which become objectionable, depending on the person using them, the situation where they are used, the frequency of use, and the social reference. I find the above title objectionable. I don’t feel that there are any words which should be denied, or removed from common usage. To even suggest such a thing is a short step from book burning.

Below is the list that he had compiled, with a request to others for their most unfavorite word/expression. It’s a short list, but seems to have included a few limited, regional entries. I, of course, have some info and opinions.

Gnarly
It is what it is
Eshay
Literally
‘Tings,’ instead of “Things”
Insane
Aw bless
Lit

Gnarly: Gnarled is classier, but gnarly is Valley-Girl speak, perfect for Kendall, like, for sure, like, totally, and gag me with a spoon. (Don’t tempt me, bitch!)

It is what it is: Is business-talk, carried over into regular conversation. While it is hackneyed and trite, it is a quick, easy, verbal-shorthand way to tell someone to stop bitching and whining, and accept reality. Karma, dude!

Eshay: This is a regionalism. I don’t know how far it has spread, but Eshay is the Australian equivalent of British chav. ‘Eshays’ are almost always from a poor background, have little or no secondary education and rely on welfare payments or theft to support their habits.

Literally: I would literally like tons of people with no linguistic imagination, to stop using this as a verbal exclamation mark, when they literally mean ‘figuratively.’

‘Tings,’ Instead of ‘Things’: Here, we get into pronunciation, instead of usage, and that’s even harder to ‘correct.’ People who speak like this are frequently like the Eshays, or the chavs, above. It often, but not always, indicates poor education. Hey, it is what it is. We all have examples of enunciation which sound strange to others. To eliminate it all would soon create a silent world.

Insane: I can understand someone becoming irked by the constant use of this adjective. It is just hyperbole which means that the user is so narrow-minded and opinionated, that he thinks anybody else’s point of view is crazy. One God??! That’s insane! There are three, Father, Son, and Holy Ghost!

Aw, bless: Another regionalism – this one is the British equivalent of a couple of similar expressions from the American South. If a little old Southern belle says Well, Bless You, or, Bless your heart, it translates to ‘Fuck you very much, asshole!’

Lit: Originally just meant illuminated, but came to refer to people who were under the influence of alcohol, and/or drugs. Like ‘woke’, its colloquial value has come to mean what hip, cool or neat meant, a few years ago.

I hate them too, but I don’t want to see them banned. They are signposts, indicating which way the population, and its language, are heading. 😳

Flash Fiction #220

Nostalgia

THOSE WERE THE DAYS

The old man sat at his computer, longing for ‘The Good Old Days,’ knowing they weren’t really, what with polio, segregation and World Wars.

He tried to keep up, especially with the avalanche of technology – every month, new Smart Phones, tablets, readers, apps, games, Twitter, Facebook…. Sometimes progress could only be measured by how less quickly he was losing ground, running hard, just to stay in place.

He didn’t know how the young ones kept up. Some used methamphetamines. For the life of him, he couldn’t guess why. Surely their brains were already churning at the speed of light.

***

Click on Those Were The Days, if you’d like to hear Archie and Edith longing for the same nostalgia, then go to Rochelle’s Addicted to Purple site and use her Wednesday photo as a prompt to write a complete 100 word story

Friday Fictioneers

I Need My Meds!!

Valium

My OCD about proper, correct English usage nearly gnawed its way out of my thick skull. My automatic proof-reader was on angel dust, and my internal editor was having heart palpitations.

Shortly after I composed my Blog – How to be taken seriously, I found this post. The writer is an example of an English redneck. If this guy were living in the US, he’d be wearing a MAGA hat, and helping Trump build a wall.

Since he states that he is English, to have his racist screed taken seriously, it would really help if he could write it in The Queen’s English. I only downloaded the title, which is what caught my attention, and the first two paragraphs. It continued to offend my eye and my sensibilities for another illiterate, rambling three paragraphs. I stopped counting the errors after about 100. I couldn’t see them all, through my tears.

Here it is, with most, but not necessarily all, the errors highlighted.

Their our to many Pakistans in my town Luton too ignore its time to take are country back now!

By Timmy Rodinson

Im going too explain this in the most simplest of ways too make you understand what is really going on in are nation right: I was born in england and that makes me english and a british because I am british. If your a muslim your a muslim so it doesn’t matter were you were born in because your a muslim. its as simple as this. so if your an islamist muslim you are not and can never be english or british no matter where your born because you are not from english history and your taking are identity to make islamist

suicide bombers who you are giving birth too and were not going to stand for it any longer we our taking back are country from you sick violent muslim imigrants. its as simple as this. that does not make me a racialist that makes me proud to be from a country that does’nt send people to other countrys to bomb millions of inocent people like has been happening in france and europe and there our just not enough people speaking up for peoples who want’s for are people to live in a country that is’nt run by shuria laws that are from rapist genocidal ideilogy. its as simple as this. your not british and you should leave to your muslim homeland in pakistan or iran or suadi arabia were you’re religion’s are from.

He certainly made me take him seriously…. Seriously disturbed! Oy, learn correct spelling and punctuation and language construction, then we can clearly communicate our distaste for your racist ramblings. Seriously Tommy, you’re giving soccer hooligans a bad name.  🙄

This post is only about how upset I am with his misusage and mangling of my Mother Tongue.  I’ll leave his social and political views for another day.  Feel free to comment about them, though.  😯

 

March In A Straight One-Line

Comedy

How many Germans does it take to screw in a lightbulb?….
….One, they’re efficient, but not funny

You’re not completely useless….
….You can always serve as a bad example

I broke my finger last week….
….On the other hand, I’m okay

A Roman Legionnaire walks into a bar, and holds up two fingers….
….and says, “Five beers please”

Someone stole my Microsoft Office, and they’re going to pay….
….You have my Word

I tried to catch fog yesterday….
….Mist

Working in a mirror factory…
….is something I can see myself doing

I registered with an online dating service….
….They matched me up with a recliner and a TV

No-one asks me for my recipes….
….just the antidotes

Prophecy class cancelled….
….due to unforeseen circumstances

Well, to be Frank….
….I’d have to change my name

Our mountains aren’t just funny….
….they’re hill areas

These tee-shirts were tested on animals….
….they didn’t fit

None of my relatives suffer from mental illness….
….they all seem to enjoy it

Stupidity knows no boundaries….
….but it knows a lot of people

If I make you breakfast in bed, a simple “thank you” will do….
….None of this “How did you get in my house?” business.

Just say NO to drugs….
….well, if I’m talking to my drugs, I probably already said YES

What would The Jetsons be called if they were black?….
….The Jetsons, you racist bastard

Just because it’s a bad idea….
….doesn’t mean it won’t be a good time

If life gives you melons….
….you may be dyslexic

I hate Russian dolls….
….They’re so full of themselves (That’s an inside joke.)

***

Happy New Year’s to one and all.  It’s a happy coincidence that we can start the new year off with a laugh or two.  Here’s hoping that we’re still smiling at the end of it.  😀  😆  See you there.

Avatar

 

They’re (One-)Lining Up

Comedy

I told my psychiatrist that I keep hearing voices in my head and creating imaginary people….
….He told me that I don’t have a psychiatrist.

***

My mom said “you treat this place like a hotel”………
……..she will regret that when I give her a low score on Trip Advisor for ‘rude staff’.

***

The book that I wrote about poltergeists….
….is flying off the shelves

***

The only thing that Flat Earthers fear….
….is sphere itself

***

I was arrested last week for stealing helium balloons……
…..the police held me for a while and then let me go.

***

My pet rock is not doing well today….
….I think it is stoned

***

I’ve been searching for my stolen bed…….
………I won’t rest until I find it.

***

My ex girlfriend just found out that I’ve replaced her bed with a trampoline…..
……She hit the roof.

***

My girlfriend had her driving test the other day. She got 8 out of 10……….
……the other 2 guys jumped clear.

***

My optician told me today that I’m color blind…….
……..that came right out of the orange!

***

I’m hoping to find a cure for my hiccups…..
……but I’m not holding my breath.

***

I bought a pair of shoes off a drug dealer……..
……..dunno what he’s laced them with,
………but I’ve been trippin’ all day.

***

I just bought a book called, “How To Avoid Being Ripped Off.”….
….best $100 I ever spent.

***

Someone just told me to stop acting like a flamingo………
……..so I had to put my foot down.

***

I turned to drink when my girlfriend left me….
….I like to celebrate in style

***

My doctor told me that jogging can add years to my life…….
……he’s right; I feel 10 years older already.

***

Breaking News….
….Ne ws

***

Just saw an ad that read, “TV for sale, $1, volume stuck on full high.” I thought to myself….
….I can’t turn that down

***

Scientists have recently discovered a gene that causes shyness…….
……they found it hiding behind two other genes.

***

My friend told me that he’s been constipated for two years….
….I think he’s full of shit.

***

I once dumped a cross-eyed chick….
….I thought she was seeing someone else.

***

My doctor gave me six months to live, so I shot him….
….The judge gave me twenty years.

***

My friend sent me an empty email….
….His message was clear….

Defence Of Purity

Mennonite

A recent entertainment article in the newspaper described an upcoming series on CBC-TV, titled ‘Pure’, where some Mexican Mennonites, travelling through the US and into Canada, smuggled drugs. The usual suspects were horrified – aghast, and complained. I replied, with information taken from A World Lit Only By Fire!

a world lit only by fire

In his Jan. 25th letter, Social Injustice, Harold Robertson tries to defend Mennonites from an accusation of drug smuggling, in the upcoming CBC-TV show Pure.

He naively asked, ”What next, a brothel full of nuns?” In Martin Luther’s time, that was only one of the sins of the Church and its leaders that he nailed to the door. While still called convents, there were many brothels full of nuns. They funnelled an immense amount of wealth to the Church.

There were also lots of brothels without nuns. The Vatican alone supported three, nearby. People with the surname Pope had ancestors who were illegitimate Papal offspring.

Despite what we like to believe, there are many times when not all religious figures are Holy and Pure.

***

In another paper the same week, there were two articles, one in Lifestyle, and one in the Religion section, both bemoaning the fact that attendance at almost all Christian Churches continues to decline. The only exceptions seem to be the Fundamentalist, Westboro Baptist-type churches, where they preach Hell-Fire and Brimstone, Biblical Literalism.

Some of the Protestant leaders got together and discussed the advisability of trying to attract more followers, by ‘giving the people what they want’, and abandoning the open, loving, acceptant type of Christianity.

I see at least two things wrong with this approach. First, there is hopefully, only a small percentage of intolerant, redneck-type church-goers who want this inflammatory rhetoric, to buttress their bigotry.  The pie is only so big.  Few new ‘believers’ would be created.  The slices would just get smaller, and it would drive away the few moderates still attending.

Secondly, if you truly believed in logic and science, and a loving, caring God, and populace, but are willing to so radically change your stance, you are doing so for hypocritical power and wealth reasons.

You don’t care about the soul salvation, or social support of your parishioners. You only care about bums in the pews, and a continued flow of money into your church, and your paycheck.

At least, that’s what this old non-believer believes!   😯

Slightly Singed Slacks

Pants on fire

LIAR, LIAR, PANTS ON FIRE!

There are lies, damned lies, and statistics – about lies.  In an episode of Castle, after interviewing a suspect, Detective Kate Beckett asks Rick Castle what he thinks.  Castle responds, “He’s lying!”  Beckett replies, “Of course he’s lying!  Everybody lies, about everything, all the time!  We have to figure out what he’s lying about.”

I once worked with a young woman. When I was very interested in motorcycles, she owned and rode her own bike.  If I hung around with her, I could hang around with several of her male biking friends and score the occasional ride.

One of the first things she told me was, “I never lie. I have a poor memory, and can’t remember what I’ve lied to who about, so I always tell the truth.  It’s easier to remember.”  It took a while, but I started paying attention, and keeping track.

She had an active social life, but told me, “I’ve never slept with a married man.”  Then she took me to a Country-Western bar for lunch.  The manager was a businesswoman.  She told me that she’d had sex with the woman’s first husband.  She was not named as a respondent, because he had a number of dalliances….Then she told me that she’d slept with this woman’s second husband also.  “I couldn’t help it.  He’s just so cute.”

Riding a motorcycle is a big job!  It requires far more work and attention than auto-piloting a car.  She told me one day that, “I never ride my bike impaired, whether booze or drugs.  You could get hurt, or killed.”

On our afternoon shift, we got a half-hour for supper. One evening she realized that she had no recreational drugs to go home to – no weed, no hash oil.  She said, “Come with me at break.  We’ll ride over to my supplier and score something for me later.”

After a quick, five-minute scoot, she scored a ‘quarter of hash’. I turned to leave, but she broke it in two, and she and the dealer smoked half of it, while I tried to stay near fresh air.  (Cuz it’s only good manners to share, man)

When she was finally ready to return to work (half-baked), I held out my hand for the bike keys. “No way man!  It’s my bike, and nobody rides my bike except me!”  They say there are no Atheists in foxholes.  This Atheist prayed the whole ride back.

I usually took the bus to work, but it wasn’t far out of her way to give me a ride home. One evening, as we were leaving work, one of her active social life’s was waiting it the plant door, to take her out for ‘a couple of drinks’.  Nudge, nudge, wink, wink.  She handed me the keys to the motorcycle that only she could drive, and said, “Could you leave it at my place, and walk the rest of the way home?”

She lied to herself as well as me, about never lying. It’s likely that she even believed the lie.  She lied about sleeping with married men, and probably never noticed.  She lied about always riding sober – but that ‘bad memory’ thing can come from being smoked up.  She lied about never letting anyone else pilot her bike as soon as a delivery service became socially convenient.

She was a nice enough person, if a little(?) wild, but I kept track.  She lied to everybody, about everything, even stuff she didn’t need to lie about – where she’d been, and with who, how much she drank.  She lied about a potential newspaper job, and to herself as well as others about her abilities.

Cynical much??! Even before the Castle show, I developed a finely tuned ability to tell when others are lying.  Their lips are moving.  😯

Santa Claus, Easter Bunny, Tooth Fairy, hubby’s new job, kids’ school grades – what do you lie about? Tell the truth now.  I’ll know.

Flash Fiction #101

Fix

PHOTO PROMPT © Jan Marler Morrill

The Fix Is In

Knock, knock.

Psst, Edgar sent me. I need a little something.

Don’t know no Edgar, man. Maybe Clive next door can supply you.

Knock, knock.

Guy next door says maybe you can give me something to make me feel good.

Sure, man! What you need, some allegory, a little bit of alliteration??

Nah, guy. I’m Jonesing for a story-line for a 100-word Flash Fiction.  Can’t score one myself.

Why don’t you write about how it resembles going up a dark, dead-end alley, like a junkie desperately looking for a fix?

Great idea!

Dime bags of inspiration are now twenty bucks.

***

Go to Rochelle’s Addicted to Purple site and use her Wednesday photo as a prompt to write a complete 100 word story.