Category Archives: New Word

Looking To The Left

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During my last visit to Crystal Bridges, all I could see in Carroll Cloar’s “Charlie Mae Practicing for the Baptizing” painting was Post Malone, inexplicably standing in a river.

I can’t unsee it, no matter how much I read about the painting.
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Contrary Opinion Rationality Rule:
How you respond to contradictory and reciprocal opinion offered without malice is one of the best indicators of your temperament and ability to think rationally. Emotional or disproportionate responses to an opinion so offered are indicators of cognitive dissonance or in recognition of the frailty inherent in the arguments you choose to employ.

“That’s what he was telling me, anyway, right before I hit him with a pillowcase full of rocks.” – X

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Social Media Exclusion Observation

If you say, “I can’t be on Facebook,” you have one of 4 problems: you despise seeing contrary opinion due to the precarious and unmeasured depth of your own, your view of the world is fundamentally unhappy, you aren’t pruning your social tree to weed out those motivated by values which demean, or you don’t strive to put out into the world that which you wish to reflect back.

Facebook gives you magnificent control to decide whose content you see. It gives you the ability to ignore, block, hide, or scroll past meaningless content. It can’t give you peace if you’re not generally peaceful in your heart. It can’t grant wisdom if you can’t use it for personal and heartfelt content that you value. It can’t make the people you chose to include in your social media circle speak and behave in a manner that you feel they should. You can’t either, for that matter. Stop trying to make people align with your internal idea of how they should mold their opinions. You have permission to release them to be friends in the real world without also needlessly struggling to reconcile them to your life on social media. Let’s face it – some people simply aren’t capable of silence or the solace the scrolling past without throwing a cup of mud into your face.

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A Lot of Pickles In That Handbag

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Forget the original lyrics. Here’s my take on current events. You’re welcome, X

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I wish that we had one species of venomous birds. People would pay a lot more attention outside, look up more often, and probably sound more natural as they scream.
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If you say, “That’s the last straw!” there is probably a liberal who is happy but gets the wrong idea.
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I wonder if Napoleon had gone by the name “Leon” if he’d been as aggressive as he was.
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I was going to order a personal pizza, but because I was going to eat it, I instead ordered an impersonal pizza – because it was nothing personal.
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I frequent a bar that offers free peanuts because I loathe indentured foodstuffs.
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I bought a ticket in the nosebleed section, not realizing that the usher would punch me in the face. Bravo, for accuracy.
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I got into a fight with a flock of chickens. It’s a lot of exercise bending and throwing punches that low. So, I winged it.
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Once someone points it out, it’s hard to not think about the fact that each time you paint the inside of your house, the interior gets incrementally smaller.
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The patent office sent me a letter to advise me that no one had patented the idea of aardvarks in leotards.
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X’s rule of news site commentary: If you post comments on a news site, especially in anger, you’ve demonstrated the opposite of whatever intelligence is.

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One disadvantage of being a twin is that you can never convince someone that you forgot your sibling’s birthday.
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For us old folks: In a very short time, 2060 will be closer than 1980.
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The world would be much more musical if people’s heads sounded like marimbas when you punch them. Especially at boxing matches.

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The Elder Observation: The world isn’t fundamentally different; your focus, attention, and energy, however, is more likely to be concentrated on the extremes, especially as you grow older. Choices in clothing, food, music, and opinion dwindle; use this tendency as a warning sign that you’ve grown rigid.

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I wrote a movie about a dyslexic hacker. Unfortunately, it was 789 minutes long.

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“Go Tell It On The Mountain” sounds like prank advice.

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It’s not relevant, but I wonder if Bigfoot’s cellphone plan has roaming charges.

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Thanks! Panache, wit, and an actual laugh – all without even opening the envelope. While I certainly appreciate anyone with the nerve, time, and interest to send me a card of any kind, I confess that I’m often surprised by the lack of reciprocity of my admittedly weird efforts to keep life interesting. When it comes, I gain a little hope that not everything I do falls on deaf ears, dim eyes, or uninterested v̶i̶c̶t̶i̶m̶s̶ people in my life.
Signed, The King.

Card-giving is a declining art form. It’s okay to kill tradition and even stick your tongue out while you’re doing it.

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While getting dressed for the formal event, I suddenly realized where the cliché “the ties that bind” originated.

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I can’t help but feel a little put out when the pastor announces that “almost everyone” should join him in song.

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Some doubt that Bigfoot is real. As for me, I doubt he’s a Baptist.

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The “It Is What It Is” Cliché Comparison

 

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“Truth sounds like hate to those who hate truth” has to be one of the most meaningless clichés on social media. It’s clever, but meaningless, like a quick conversation at the coffee kiosk on an early Saturday morning.

I see it used by fundamentalists, by liberals decrying the prejudices of conservatives, and all manner of people who need a convenient way to stigmatize those they identify as their detractors.

“Any quote, axiom, cliché, or saying that can be equally used by polar opposites is meaningless in all contexts. It is the “it is what it is” of social knowledge.”

The Tenderfoot Allocation Hyprocrisy

OLD FOLKS BLAMING

A bit over-the-top, stereotypical, and harsh comment designed to derive a rise in people’s blood pressure:

Regarding those “Bring back home economics class so that millennials can actually learn something” memes… Given that 1/2 of workers live paycheck-to-paycheck, I’d say that the problem isn’t young people not knowing how to change their oil, bake a cake, or sew a button. I’d say it’s the majority of their elders failing to understand real economics – or having practical views and solutions for pervasive economic policies that benefit everyone.

The younger generations didn’t get us to here.

We did.

Pizzaheimer’s Pants

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There’s nothing quite like the realization that you might not have any pants to wear. No one wanted to see me prancing around sans pants twenty years ago; the situation hasn’t improved any, especially as pizza became my closest friend. The only time being pantsless is a benefit is when door-to-door salesmen make the mistake of ignoring my “No Soliciting” sign. The neighbors haven’t complained about screaming people fleeing my house. Since I don’t answer the door, I wouldn’t know if they did. It’s a win-win.

As a minimalist, I have the least amount of clothing of any other adult that I know. I tend to keep only a bit more than I need. After my last long-term successful weight loss, I dropped my guard and discarded the pants that looked like MC Hammer had designed my wardrobe. I’m generally relentless about getting rid of clothes I can’t or won’t wear.

Like all idiots, once I lose weight, I assume that I will somehow defy years of forgetting my promise not to get too large again.

I name this tendency/disease Pizzaheimer’s.

Over the last few months, I’ve adopted a more care-free diet, one characterized by total surrender to the joys of excessive stuffing. I tend to wear work pants instead of blue jeans. No matter how bad you think I might look in blue jeans, it’s worse. Imagine Danny DeVito wearing jeans and roller skating.

Because I have to wear slacks at work and my job being very physical, I wear both the relaxed fit and stretchy version of my preferred pants. (Note: I’m not too fond of using the word ‘slacks’ in reference to pants.) These give me the ability to kneel or bend without accidentally hitting a high note – and from splitting my the seat of my pants in an impromptu show of agility and exposed anatomy. The undesirable consequence of this is that I can put on 20 lbs without needing to get a size bigger pants. George brand pants do indeed stretch without complaint. So do I.

Because I may have to dress above my normal sloth-like appearance in a few days, it occurred to me that I might need to try on my normal dress wear pants. As you might expect, none of them fit. Either a magical seamstress has reduced them in my closet, or my battle with fat has been an unnoticed defeat. I’m going with the latter.

As a result, after work today, I had to buy more clothes, ones that don’t expose me to the risk of public nudity if I bend over. The numbers are getting a little large, too. As a general rule, if walking the distance displayed on your pants would wear you out, it’s probably not a good waist size, either.

It’s not my fault, though. I suffer from Pizzaheimer’s.