Travails of Humbling Egocentrism

Here we go again, vivisecting my personality. Should you care to attempt to fully diagnose my neurosis (spoiler: it’s codependency) please go back and read the last handful of posts (and please, do, my last post was aggressively ignored). Let’s get on to my alphabetized personality aberrations.

It fills me with a tsunami of rage. A hungerectomy?  The hunger part I get, but what was the vile marketing person's inspiration for the "ectomy" part? Was it "hysterectomy", you manipulative weasel, or was it "vaginectomy" you vile, lazy marketeer (see, I can do it too, ya' unimaginative collection of sewage).
It fills me with a tsunami of rage. A hungerectomy? The hunger part I get, but what was the vile marketing person’s inspiration for the “ectomy” part? Was it “hysterectomy”, you manipulative weasel, or was it “vaginectomy” you repulsive, lazy marketeer (see, I can do it too, ya’ unimaginative collection of sewage).

P-Portmanteau. (Bet you thought I was going to go with “Pickleope”) Seems like one of the favorite pastimes of the internet and marketing jackasses in general is smashing together words as though it’s clever. That’s where “hangry” came from or, I just saw in an ad that Frosted Mini-Wheats is trying to get “kidult” going. I don’t inherently hate portmanteaus (love the word and product, “spork”), but I do have an aversion to laziness and sweaty marketing. Kidult, the combo of kid and adult, is already covered by existing words like, nostalgia or infantilism or juvenility or immature. Lazy ass marketers. That’s why I created the moniker “Pickleope” to make fun of mash-up culture. Oh look, aren’t you clever, combining the Ghostbusters with Pac-Man because they both bust ghosts. Get it together, internet.

Q-Quibble. I love to quibble. I’ll make up reasons to quibble. For example, this past Friday I had a conversation with people where I created the argumentative position that I want to punch some (not all) birds right in the beak. Just so I could quibble about why and what type of birds. The why is because dinosaurs evolved from birds and they want the world back so we have to keep them in place with a good punchin’. What types? I dunno, pretty much all of them…except crows because they’re mean, smart and organized. I’m not going to mess with a murder of crows.

Bill Watterson is a genius
Bill Watterson is a genius

R-Really Raunchy Rhizome of Ridiculousness. Bread deep in my brain and soul is a rhizome (root system) of absolute buffoonery that leans toward the raunchy. I think this stems from my mother being dedicated to silliness and doing things that are designed just to make her laugh, most of which involved embarrassing me. The first thing she said when dropping me off at college was, “if you come home, call first because we may be having sex…in the living room…or your old room.” Hence, explaining my also love of the embarrassingly raunchy. Because that root system is so deep within me, I also know the line between charmingly indecent and utterly horrifyingly inappropriate, which is a razor-thin line. Due to this being a defining characteristic of mine, inevitably, someone who hasn’t been indoctrinated in the raunchy ridiculous ethos will take the joking too far. So, I’ve had to really learn how to read people to know when to get them to pull back. Screw painting, this is my art.

This has nothing to do with the post, but a picture of a cat holding back its vomit tickles me.
This has nothing to do with the post, but a picture of a cat holding back its vomit tickles me.

S-Suicidal Dog (by popular demand). But it’s a longer story than what I’ve already had you endure, so come back on Thursday (or Wednesday, I’m thinking about changing post days) for the tale of my suicide pooch. TEASER!


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  1. Boy, this is becoming a vocabulary lesson! Rhizome? What? Also I keep forgetting that portmanteau means that and not fancy fancy wine.


  2. The combination of Ghostbusters and PacMan, of course, is GhostPAC, a political action committee raising money for candidates furthering the interests of ghosts.


  3. Your words….they’re so big it’s melting my brain. You’re vocabulary is astounding!

    I mean where else am I going to quibble about rhizome?


  4. Your Mom sounds like a real pistol. My kinda gal! Why do you always warn her in certain posts not to read your raunchiest bits? Are you afraid they’re not raunchy ENOUGH?


  5. Not just crows. If you value your life, stay away from Grackles! Fun Fact: A group of Grackles is called a “plague”. Need I say more?


  6. Oh goodie! The Suicidal Dog story. I can’t wait for it. No. Really. I can.


  7. Laughter, unfortunately, often comes from being embarrassment for someone else. Now we have to wait at least two more days for the suicidal dog? Raunchy.


  8. Yes, Bill Watterson is a genius. I don’t think I can wait for the suicidal dog story. I need to know now so I can jump in to save his life. My parents didn’t have sex. I have no idea where I came from.



  9. Oh my this post had me going what and yeah and I have no idea…………….


  10. Spork is indeed a great word, but what do you think of “splade”?

    I’d probably have to punch a mockingbird, they’ve had it way too good since that book came out.

    We are WAY too private at my house to talk about sex in any form. My parents weren’t even sure what gender I like until I started talking about it on my blog.

    Spoiler – I killed the dog.


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