Posts categorized “Neologisms”.

E-gregious

My Aunt V., creator of the word “Rovenge,” has come up with another neologism:

e-social: A subset of asocial, where someone is so distracted by electronic devices that he ignores the people around him.

Inspired by watching a high-end SUV pass us one night with both flip down DVD players on for the back seat. I felt sorry for the kids, who will grow up never knowing how to fight with a siblings in the back seat.

If the e-social person is focusing exclusively on his phone, I would also suggest the term “cell-centered.”

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Joke 3.0.1

It only took me a week to realize that a much better name for the explainline would be “the aftermirth.”

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Vokarlbulary

Email from my aunt:

To: Matthew Baldwin
From: Val
Subject: I invented a new word

Rovenge (rO-'venj), n: Politically motivated retribution. The White House sought rovenge against Joseph Wilson.

Can you get this into the lexicon?

Start using it, people. And as long as nominations are open, I’d like to propose a term that popped into my head this morning while coloring with The Squirrelly:

White crayon ('hwIt 'krA-"

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What The Doctor Ordered

defective yeti has long been on the forefront of linguistic innovation, bringing you such indispensable neologisms as stuplimity, petable, and misfortunation. And whenever there is a void in the public vernacular, this website shall boldly stride forth to … okay, blah blah blah, you get the picture.

Anyway, you know what I’m sick of saying? “Dr-Pepper-or-Mr-Pibb.”

That’s my drink of choice, but I’m not particular enough to distinguish between the two. So when ordering one, in a restaurant or at the drive-thru, I have to tack the two already overly-long names together with a conjunction and cough them both up at once.

Of course I could just order one or the other. But since I invariably choose the one the eatery doesn’t carry (I just can’t seem to remember which multi-national soft drink corporation owns which multi-national fast food chain) the cashier then has to ask “Is [the other one] okay?” and I have no choice but to give a long, exasperated sigh and say “Yes, [the other one] is okay — duh! Jesus. And you’d better not put any pickles on my Barbarque California Falafel because I said NO pickles and that shit is nasty.”

You don’t have this problem with other drinks, because they all have generic names. Coke and Pepsi are “cola”; Cherry Coke and Wild Cherry Pepsi are “cherry cola”; Barq’s and Hires and A&W and Mug are all “root beer.” Orange drinks are “orange drinks” and iced tea is “iced tea.” I could even get a 7-Up or Sprite by saying “lemon-lime drink,” though I’d sooner drink ink right from the squid than order either one. But at least they have a generic.

I guess it’s up to me to come up with a word that encompasses this distinct subgenre of soft drink. So I asked myself, what characteristic do all these drinks have in common? A vaguely prune / bubble-gumish flavor, sure — but what really sets them apart? Answer: they all have titles. Dr. Pepper, Mr. Pibb, Dr. Becker, Mr. Ahhh, and all the rest — they have all earned a doctorate, or at least the right to be called by an honorific. They are all, in fact, “titled colas” — or, as we shall be calling them henceforth — “tytolas.”

But this paradigm shift in soft drink nomenclature will only occur if everyone participates. So the next time you’re shouting at a speaker at the Taco Barn’s drive-thru, ask for a tytola. They may not understand what you want right away, but just keep repeating it — they’ll catch on after you’ve said it a dozen or two times. The tytola revolution will take time, yes. But if we all work together, we can build a better place, a world where, god willing, my son will never have to utter the phrase “Dr-Pepper-or-Mr-Pibb.” And isn’t that the most any parent could hope for?

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Misfortunation

I got impatient waiting for the bus yesterday, so I started to stroll to the espresso stand a block away. I wasn’t really in the mood for coffee, but that wasn’t the point — and I knew I wouldn’t get any anyhow.

Sure enough, the bus arrived just when I was far enough away from the stop that I had to sprint to catch it.

There really ought to be a word for this:

Misfortunation: Intentionally transforming a desirable event into an undesirable event in the hopes that your bad luck will cause it to occur.

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Die, T

You know who drives me nuts? Door rushers. You know who I mean — everybody’s seen these guys in action. I bet the Germans even have a word for them, Die T

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Die, T

You know who drives me nuts? Door rushers. You know who I mean — everybody’s seen these guys in action. I bet the Germans even have a word for them, Die T

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Die, T

You know who drives me nuts? Door rushers. You know who I mean — everybody’s seen these guys in action. I bet the Germans even have a word for them, Die T

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Die, T

You know who drives me nuts? Door rushers. You know who I mean — everybody’s seen these guys in action. I bet the Germans even have a word for them, Die T

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Die, T

You know who drives me nuts? Door rushers. You know who I mean — everybody’s seen these guys in action. I bet the Germans even have a word for them, Die T

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