Future: The time frame of existence that is always ahead of us.
One never reaches their own future; but at the same time one is always living in the future of someone’s past. Sometimes they look like Bruce Willis. Looper.
In a Sentence: “The end of the new episodes of Workaholics Season 3B alters the future of the Workaholics Tumblr; but while it now assumes hiatus glory it will still be your source for all things Workaholics.”
Zombie: One who is without enough brain function to avoid their blind pursuit of a singular goal. Like pizza, brains, or “dat ass”.
This type of behavior is often marked by a slow, steady march toward said goal one ingredient decision, wounded hitchhiker, or unbuckled belt at a time.
You may find yourself a Zombie if you say “Yes” to any of the following questions:
In a Sentence: “I wanted to wait to buy the new Hobbit Blu Ray until the whole set is released with more content, but I’m a JRR Tolkien Zombie and just couldn’t wait to own it as soon as possible.”
-OR-
“Me Zombie, braaaaaaaaaaiiiiiiinnnnnsssssss.”
Yelpless: A state or condition in which one is without access to social media, leaving them unable to research life-or-death info, like if the Denver Omelette at Jose’s is really “the best in the state”.
Being without Yelp, Facebook, Foursquare, or Twitter, among others, can leave a person without information they never realized they needed. What time does the Chipotle by the airport close? Is the Best Western off the 210 pet friendly? How’s the talent at Jumbo’s on a Tuesday? Which direction is East?
Worst of all, being Yelpless leaves a person unable to info-blast their friends and acquaintances with news and photos of what they’re doing at any given moment. How are your buds supposed to believe you sat at a table next to Ryan Gosling unless you have proof? What, they’re supposed to trust your word as a human being? Save that for the 80s.
If you find yourself with no bars, no charger, or worst of all, no cell phone, fret not. Find the closest non-biker looking person and ask to borrow theirs. Explain your situation; you just need to see if that burger place uses animal fat to cook their sweet potato fries.
If they’re humans, they’ll hand over the device for a hot five; then, once you’ve completed the task, buy them a chai latte as a thanks. And remember; one day you may be able to help a person in need. A person without hope. A person without internet access.
Someone who’s completely Yelpless.
In a Sentence: “Last weekend was the worst, we were driving through the mountains and got pretty hungry when we came upon this farmstand so I went to check if the service was up to par, but I didn’t have any reception, so we walked in completely Yelpless; turns out, it was just an abandoned shack!”
Grandpa: The man who taught your dad how to be a Man.
AKA: Gramps, Papy, Pop, Pop Pop, Grampy, Granddad, Ole Granddad, Sir
You’d be speaking German and eating second rate grain if it weren’t for the ole fella who made it all possible. The man who asked no more than respect and the big pork chop in exchange for the sweat off his soul and the ache of his bones.
Sure, he thinks you’ll break the remote control if you flip too fast. He doesn’t get “those Asian foods, electronics, or people”. He drives dangerously, and not in the accepted Fast/Furious manor. The least you can do is cut him some slack, he’s trying to think and that damn dog won’t shut up!
In his day, people were more private than this Facebookie Twatter nonsense on the computers. Face to face, that’s how people talked in his day!
His day isn’t over. Not yet.
In a Sentence: “Visited my Grandpa at the senior’s apartment complex yesterday, he sat outside heckling people for most of the afternoon before going in to watch the channel that shows the front entrance to the complex until he nodded off.”
Lording: You gotta ask? Then you can’t even get a whiff of Lord.
A Lord lords, and you can’t be lording if you’re too busy defining. Save that for the Websters.
You are not “they”, the watch checking khaki class of name-on-shirt employment.
They fill out resumes. You get offered the job the other guy hasn’t even been fired from yet.
They file their own taxes. You pay your guy in the valley to log your deductions RIGHT.
They park 3 blocks away from the club because they “like the fresh air”. You live upstairs from the club already. The club you own. Or co-own with a good friend. Possibly for tax purposes.
Why? Because you’re both LORDING.
In a Sentence: “Hopped on the jet to NYC for a secret J-T concert at 30 Rock on Friday, then we were straight LORDING the three day weekend from the East Village brunch through the bowling in Lorne Michael’s private alley!”
Pornog: The sexually charged materials which you view in order to turn your Lil Smokey into a Hebrew National.
That involves everything from a man and woman kissing, to a man and woman kissing in places other than what is conventionally defined as kissing, to a man and a woman being in separate rooms but still kissing items from whatever grab bag of issues your deep seeded conscience has deemed Go Milk and you just ate cookies.
Hell, it doesn’t even need to be a man and a women.
Hell, it doesn’t even need to involve kissing.
Hell, it doesn’t even need to involve hot dog related metaphors, ladies, you turn your taco stand from a failing business to a 5-star YELP review if that’s what plugs in the Christmas tree this holiday season.
In short, you define what Pornog is. I just work here.
In a Sentence: “Things with Jesse were getting a little stale, so I thought I’d introduce some Pornog into the equation, and see what added up; and let me tell you, she got so worked up I was leaving remainders all over the quadratic equation, because I’m a math teacher.”
Bloj: Means blowjob.
Pronounced: Blow-ge
AKA: “The Mouth”
Oral sex moniker used primarily in high school slang, before transitioning into the college world where it can take on any number of regionally appropriate names (I.E. Doming, Braining, Feed Bag, etc).
Not often said in the old folks home or your parent’s office, it’s a kids thing. They do a lot of shortening of words for their speech patterns, they think it makes them stand out and find an identity in this crazy world. C’mon, you used to as well, remember “ush”, “coo” and “totes”?
Language. It’s funny, and sometimes, being funny? Is enough to catch you a bloj.
In a Sentence: “She gave me a bloj, she gave me a bloj, pretty much every low self esteem girl in Rancho Cucamonga South has thrown a bloj my way; although to speak equally of gender roles, some may have been using me for my body as well.”
Quitting: Having the mental strength to walk away from something because you realize you are better than whatever pithy thing it’s pretending to be. Their loss. You’re the big dog and no one else can lap up as much water as you.
While garnering a reputation as being for the “weak willed” or “losers”, Quitting has grown a far more positive reputation in recent years due to the high-caliber character of those who are willing to just walk away.
It’s not like they can say they fired you. Or you were asked to leave because of all those complaints to HR about your patented deep tissue back rubs. No. It was your choice to move on, and that shows how you roll your dice, playa.
Didn’t the United States “quit” on Great Britain to start the American Revolution? Didn’t Bill Belichick’s leaving the New York Jets lead to the Patriots dynasty? You can’t argue Michael Keaton not doing Batman Forever didn’t look good for his integral purities. Even if you loved Jim Carrey’s Riddler.
Strong people quit and clink glasses. Bull headed jackanapes stay and get carpal tunnel. So I say pour me a topper and let’s compare resumes.
In a Sentence: “I feel like Quitting is the best option for my career if they’re going to look into this deer antler spray; can’t test me if I don’t play in the league no more, now let’s leave it all on the field Sunday!”
Meat Fetus: In the simplest scientific terms, a pile of loose meat assembled into the shape of a human for means of sacrifice to a demon, god, or hungry authority figure in hopes of warding off their evil intentions.
A meat loaf brought to meat life, the ginger-beef man you CAN catch, the Meat Featus should not be assembled for any ole’ problem. To do so would lessen it’s impact, and take away power from those who need it most.
Didn’t finish studying for your Geography Final? Stay away from the fridge.
Pressed Sally Sue is gonna find out about Betty Lou on the side? Don’t turn to the deli counter to clean up your mess, braj.
Concerned your buddy is being inhabited by the spirit of a dead employee you are responsible for unleashing? Meat life begins at conception, and it’s time for you to get sculpting the ground chuck.
The Meat Featus success rate is uncharted, but amateur analytics point towards it being highly successful. You don’t see any demon-infested monster men on the news, do you? Ergo, it works. Or is working. Or will work when it’s most needed. We can hope.
We must have faith in the powers of the formed dead mammal pieces, otherwise, we’re just farting around with hamburger here.
In a Sentence: “We shouldn’t have streaked through that Indian Burial Ground, Greg; the only chance we have to escape poltergeisting is hitting up Fred the Butcher, building a Meat Featus, and sacrificing it to the god in question before Homecoming.”
Funny: The state of amusement resulting from how well a joke/event/bit is crafted combined with how much the amuser needs something from the craftsperson.
It is not necessarily how much it made one laugh or how the laugh compares to similar takes on the same material, as much as how important it is that you laugh at this person. Sure, maybe Chevy Chase nailed the subject in question in the 70’s. But I’m not trying to buy a car from Chevy Chase at the present moment and I think they might throw in the bluetooth for free.
Funny is your boss when you aim for a promotion and get stuck in the elevator with them; it’s when your mother-in-law cracks wise about the weather and you need a bridge to the other room; it’s when the date is going poorly and you just want to see the person naked and what the hell, a few chuckles about their cat getting stuck under the couch might be all you need to get in there. Both the bedroom and… ya know.
We all like to laugh at what’s funniest on a pure level, but in this day and age, laughter is a currency you can’t just toss out like quarters to college kids for laundry. How are you going to do laundry if you give all your quarters away? In your fancy mansion with a washer/dryer installed? Must be nice. I need the quarters.
While there is a perfect world where funny simply means that which makes a human amused, we don’t live in a perfect world. Most of us live in the United States, where funny is a currency as valuable as cash, credit, and helping someone move a couch. So dole out all the funny you want, Great Britain and China; we’ll save ours to help us get ahead. Some say that’s how we got here in the first place.
God bless America.
In a Sentence: “While a gentleman getting beaned in the avocado pits makes me laugh, I’d hardly label it funny; maybe if the action was a result of some conflict he had with the person throwing the object coming to a head, I’d be invested, but as random act it’s hardly a well defined humor piece.”
