collop

collop

noun:
1. A fold or roll of flesh on the body.

I know that if I drank water instead of Pepsi and used the running shoes I paid to much money for 6 months ago I wouldn’t have to stand in front of my bathroom mirror every morning and pinch the collops around my mid-section. These rolls seem to be showing up in the absence of my metabolism, which was firing on all cylinders just a few short years ago but now seems to have given up the good fight.

I tried giving my metabolism a pep talk by explaining that I’m a man who will never get by on personality alone, but it just seemed to yawn and give me a glassy look as though I was a re-run of a television show it has already seen.

My next tactic included fad diets that involved holding a grapefruit under each armpit all day, or something, I’m not sure how it was supposed to work I didn’t read very closely. I’m not sure if it made me any healthier but it certainly made it harder to eat. When the fad diets failed I returned to my metabolism and took a more aggressive tactic. I’m not sure the yelling and screaming worked, but I burned a lot of calories trying to explain to people I am not insane.

The next approach I’m considering is violence. I plan on beating my metabolism into submission with one of the sneakers I haven’t been using to jog. The irony is not lost on me.

frondescence

 

frondescence

fron-DES-uhns \  , noun;

1.Leafage; foliage.

2.The process or period of putting forth leaves, as a tree, plant, or the like.

 

While watching cartoons growing up I assumed adulthood would be filled with plenty of hilarious hijinx and falling piano's. I also thought I would be spending a lot of time hiding amongst the frondescence, trying to play myself off as a tree while I snuck around on the tips of my toes. As I grow I am happy to report there has only been one occasion in which I have been compelled to disguise myself as a tree and sneak up on a friend, but that's only because he was dressed as a bush. 

 

I am not familiar with the cartoons of today, but I doubt they were as wonderfully mean spirited or violent as the cartoons I grew up with in the 80's. Instead of watching anvils and piano's fall on people's heads kids today are watching a non-denominational multi-national politically correct cartoon teaching them Spanish. 

 

After years and years of lobbying, the politically correct among us have turned cartoons into tools to instill morals into our children. After hours and years spent in front of the television children learn to love one another and celebrate our differences. 

 

Then one of them figures out how to search YouTube for skateboarders doing face plants onto concrete and shares it with his or her friends, resulting in the destruction of everything responsible adults have been working towards.  

 

Some things will just never not be amusing.  

moribund

 Moribund

 

1.in a dying state; near death.

2.on the verge of extinction or termination.

 

Whether being screamed at through the door of a handicapped bathroom stall in a public restroom by a handicapped person or being sprayed by a skunk on my way to the Homecoming dance there have been many times where I have felt moribund in life, as I am sure you have as well. 

 

The most important thing you can do is have an escape plan. There is no way I will ever become less socially awkward. Tripping over objects and sticking my foot in my mouth is simply how I function in society. 

 

I have accepted this completely, and this is why I never enter a room or a car without an escape plan. For example, let's say you are sitting in the back seat of a convertible describing the one night stand you had at the party last night. After 20 minutes the guy you don't know very well in the front passenger seat reveals the girl of whom you are describing in great detail is his sister. Awkward situation? Yes, but not if you remember to bring your para-sail. Rip the cord and leap from the vehicle, air velocity should take carry you to safety assuming you don't get dragged under the tired of an 18-wheeler.  

churlish

churlish

CHUR-lish \  , adjective;

1.Boorish or rude.

2.Of a churl; peasantlike.

3.Stingy; mean.

4.Difficult to work or deal with, as soil.

 

I find I am my most churlish in the morning, which I define as any time before 2 pm. 

 

It isn't that I dislike morning so much as I don't appreciate the obligations morning brings. For example, being expected to "wake up" and "go to work" is a nuisance I could do without. I would enjoy mornings much more if I could move from my bed to my couch, or from my bed to another bed in an adjacent room. This would not only make me much easier to deal with, but it would dramatically improve the happiness of those around me. 

 

A good, long, hot shower tends to wash the churlishness away, but not far enough away that it forgets where I am. It waits outside the steamy heaven for me in the form of cold tiles and November air. Being cold is sure to make me difficult, but so is being too hot, so I suppose that's a wash. 

  

Commuting doesn't help me with my churlishness either. Having to slam on my brakes randomly because the woman driving in front of me decided it was crucial she merge into my lane at the very moment I was trying to take a sip of tea frustrates me to the point where I don't know if I want to cuss at her or cuss at my tea. This results in a generic sputtering sound that must make me look insane to anyone who happens to see me through my car window. 

 

By the time I arrive at work I have such a good churl going there is no hope for the day 

serry

serry

SER-ee \  , verb;

1.To crowd closely together.

 

As I stand in the twilight of my twenties I tend to reflect on the places I've been and the places I intend to go. As I look forward I notice most of the rooms tend to be a little less crowded, which does not bother me, as I hope to be living in a place where I can wear sandals all year round and I would prefer avoiding having my toes stepped on by angry drunk college kids with too much testosterone and too much hope for the future. 

 

While many people, women in particular, view the age of 30 as a pending nuclear disaster that will send them diving under school desks (although lets be frank, our expanding waistlines prevent us from fitting under desks like we used to) I tend to view 30 as a sweet spot. 

 

The early twenties have too many hopes and ambitions crowded into one brain. The twenty-something intends to conquer the world and make their millions within a few short years. I spent so much time chasing my tail, and the tails of other more attractive twenty-somethings, that I have accomplished nothing. 

 

I have more likelihood of success now not because I am older and wiser, but because I am starting to learn exactly what I am incapable of.  

dipsomania

dipsomania

\dip-suh-MEY-nee-uh\ , noun;

1.An irresistible, typically periodic craving for alcoholic drink.

 

I've been feeling a small bout of dipsomania myself lately. The truth is I haven't had a drink in over three full months and it's starting to worry me. The only people who go an extended period of time without a drink are people battling an addiction to alcohol, therefore I feel it is crucial to get unnecessarily drunk to prove to myself I am not an alcoholic. 

 

It's this kind of rock solid logic that has gotten me into the position I am in life, although whether that is a good thing or a bad thing remains to be seen. In the event I find out my current situation is for the greater good then I suggest we break out the champagne bottles in celebration. However, if it comes to be known I have in fact painted myself in a corner, so to speak, then let us break out the bottles of Jager, tip a cow over, and forget why we are standing in this field in Pennsylvania in the first place. 

stertor

stertor

\STUR-ter\ , noun;

1.A heavy snoring sound.

 

Snoring is a problem that I am happy to report I do not suffer from, although my sympathies go out to those who my snoring keeps awake. They are the true victims here. I try explaining to girlfriends my snoring is solved with a simple remedy. All you need to do to stop a person from snoring is to clap once, loudly. This usually shocks the sleeping party from their heavy stertor and provides a respite from  the noise. 

If this does not suffice I simply request to be rolled over onto my side, a sure way to cease the sawing of logs. More than one girlfriend has taken this approach with gusto, and I've found myself on many occasions waking up on the floor, with an angry girlfriend peering over the side of the bed, a glimmer in her eye. 

"What did you do that for!" I shout groggily.

"You're right. Rolling you over works. You're not snoring anymore."