The first-annual "For-No-Real-Reason but the End-of-Yeason" Aperçu (which might not be repeated, so this title is slightly misleading)

          

          And now for something slightly different.

          Rather than passing over the obscure words (for autodidacts) or hyper-linking them (for the few link-trusters) or burying the definitions at the bottom in tiny print (for the increasingly rare scrollers who read to the end)—I'm leading with them:

          Yeason is a portmanteau of the words year and season (I made it up).

          Aperçu is a brief insight or sketch (French, pronounced Ah-per-sue).

          Autodidact means self-taught (Ben Franklin is a common example).

          Portmanteaux are distinctly new words (shart, blog, zonkey, email).

         

          This series of excerpts are some of my favorite wordcraftings.  A few are from the last twelve months, but many are from up-to three decades ago (posted in the last decade-and-a-half).  The reason I haven't done this before is because sharing fibers of belly button lint I found while navel-gazing makes me feel like a right-foolish-cunt.  Nevertheless, I compiled this autobiographical best-of listicle to commiserate* the last decade, year, autumn, and this holiday season.

 

          *Malapropisms are expected words (commemorate) intentionally replaced with a similar but humorous, albeit insightful, word.  [The word 'albeit' may be the oldest three-word portmanteau (from the 1300's)!]  

 

          To read full-articles, click associated thumbnail-pics (for completionists)—but that's not the actual point.  The essays/stories are somewhat long or maybe a bit boring or even kinda shite, while these shiny wordsmith gems are definitely worth the price of admission.

           Unending, selfish, unselfishness is a description for Magpie Love ... Unending - forever lasting with no ability to wane.  Selfish - putting one’s own interests first.  Unselfishness - doing everything for another and putting one’s own interests last.  In Magpie Love ... [you'll] do anything to bring pleasure to the other, because doing so brings the pleasure-giver, more happiness than it delivers.

          Thereby, causing me to spend a few seconds imagining foolish candlelit goings-on betwixt some weed-eaters, tarps, and a backhoe.

           “The denouement of tomes I've borrowed or own.”  After pausing to absorb the phrase for a full-second, he said, “That’s a fantastic one." ... Theodore-call-me-Ted and I had played this game for several years—ever since we learned of a shared Drew Barrymore affinity.  Her best line in Donnie Darko was: This famous linguist once said that of all the phrases in the English language ... Cellar Door is the most beautiful.

 

          Miscommunication causes more problems than malice, hatred, zeal and greed combined.  Don't lump miscommunication in with errors and oversights.  Miscommunications are not mistakes just because the ... word ... began as: mistaken communication.

 

          My Fight Club automobile-accident-experience ... now just electrical pulses across neurons (and, of course, computer software) ... was not an impetus for life reaffirmations or ... born-again-ziness.  I am especially glad nobody had reason to erect a ridiculous, lattice cross on the southbound median of Arizona Highway 17.  It is, however, one of those things that qualify as:  “If it doesn’t kill ya, it makes ya stronger.”

 

             That little ghost almost scared the piss out of me—I'll bet my going for his throat gave him a bit of a pause, though. 

 

 

           There was a pun, bandied about ... who's dumb as a rock, been a pig for eons, and behaves like a gore? ... the pun landed better with those who knew her prior-name had been Gore Behavre ... and were aware she, visually, could be of rock pigeon ancestry.  And—it certainly helps understand the pun better—to know that a gore is a chunk of land, which is on the outside of every local jurisdiction, created by a surveying error.

 

             Coffin windows are referred to, as such, because ... built as fire-escapes ... people climbing out of them would probably be coughin.  (I just made this one up.  If you use this to play six truths and a lie, this is the lie and all the others are real Vermont lore.)

 

“What’s your name?—once finished talking, I’ll buy some without balking.”

Pausing its pecking, it hopped close and stared with such intensity and vigor

I forgot our conversation, and became lost in its feather-sheen and respiration.

 “My nation calls our own name . . . when we meet I say, hello Köal-Lor.” 

 “Hello Veach” I reply with a smile, “no need to remember names anymore;

With how many of my nation have you shared your lore?”

 

 STUPID-CALLOUS FASCISTIC PSYCHO FECKLESS LYING POTUS

Mary Poppins' Super-Calla-Fragi... song,

POTUS = President Of The United States

 

 

          During these Trying Times of The Twenties™ (TToTT^®) although technology makes instant communication simple, our circles of trust have shrunk. ... Now, of course, you have viewers, followers, and 'facebook friends'.  Those screen-names might fit into our circles of associates, but more-than-likely they are a fourth circle:  strangers hoping you Egostroke, Entertain, or Educate for Free™ (EEE 4 Free^®).

  

           “Why hero always eat at Asian restaurant?” ... I replied with, “I don’t know...why?” ... “I dunno either. But Bladerunner, he eat Asian.  Fifth element guy...Bruce Willis: Asian.  ... I smiled. “Well, the guy from Dark City: he ate at an automat.”  “Ahh” He waived the idea away, walking toward his kitchen, “Noir don’t count. Noir always gotta eat at a diner.”