Because I've been quiet and have nothing better to say
Turgid - adj
1. swollen and distended; congested 2. (of style or language) pompous and high-flown; bombastic
From now on when I see turgid in a story I'm going to think the peen in question has a cold or has a really high opinion of itself. Thank you, Dictionary.com.
Why was I looking it up? Boredom. I hate it when my kids whine about being bored. I hate when I whine about being bored for that matter. One of my favorite books has a character who basically calls everyone on their bullshit when all they do is stand around amusing themselves by telling each other how bored they are. It's a Bridgerton book, but I can't remember which one. If you don't know what a Bridgerton book is google Julia Quinn then come to my yardsale. I'm buying all her books again on Kindle and getting rid of my well read print editions. I have them all in case any of you are interested and don't mind helping out with the postage.
Anywho budum dum dum (yes, been watching Archer) I'm doing my best to get un-bored as I always tell my kids to do. I have an easier time getting un-bored at home than I do at work, but I'm stuck here until five so - turgid, the adjective I love to hate is back.
The last author I complained about hurdling turgid has called for reviewers for her upcoming books. I'm torn. Evidently I was the only person at Goodreads who knows the dictionary is free on the intarwebs and that being distended isn't a good look for any man. I doubt she'd take me up on any offer to read her ARCs. On the other hand, if I actually had the authors attention, maybe I could steer her into polishing up her prose. That of course would require me to, you know, read the books all the way to the end without clawing out my eyeballs for the grammar/anatomy fail. Do I chance it?
Then there's the whole this author must know what she's doing because she's got an agent and a publisher and a personal assistant. I have two cats who hate and despise me for giving them baths and two children who can't pick up their socks off the living room floor. Maybe I'm the one who's wrong and Stephanie Meyer is a flippin' genius of story craft. Maybe I've puffed up my self-importance to turgid levels. Maybe I'm not as smart as I've been telling myself all these years.
I don't think my medication is working any more.
Huge amounts of self doubt these days. Lots of flailing thoughts and actions. I'm concentrating on the wrong things and spending too much time on Facebook. Boredom, meet depression. SNAP OUT OF IT ALREADY!!!
This is getting worse instead of better. Maybe later....
1. swollen and distended; congested 2. (of style or language) pompous and high-flown; bombastic
From now on when I see turgid in a story I'm going to think the peen in question has a cold or has a really high opinion of itself. Thank you, Dictionary.com.
Why was I looking it up? Boredom. I hate it when my kids whine about being bored. I hate when I whine about being bored for that matter. One of my favorite books has a character who basically calls everyone on their bullshit when all they do is stand around amusing themselves by telling each other how bored they are. It's a Bridgerton book, but I can't remember which one. If you don't know what a Bridgerton book is google Julia Quinn then come to my yardsale. I'm buying all her books again on Kindle and getting rid of my well read print editions. I have them all in case any of you are interested and don't mind helping out with the postage.
Anywho budum dum dum (yes, been watching Archer) I'm doing my best to get un-bored as I always tell my kids to do. I have an easier time getting un-bored at home than I do at work, but I'm stuck here until five so - turgid, the adjective I love to hate is back.
The last author I complained about hurdling turgid has called for reviewers for her upcoming books. I'm torn. Evidently I was the only person at Goodreads who knows the dictionary is free on the intarwebs and that being distended isn't a good look for any man. I doubt she'd take me up on any offer to read her ARCs. On the other hand, if I actually had the authors attention, maybe I could steer her into polishing up her prose. That of course would require me to, you know, read the books all the way to the end without clawing out my eyeballs for the grammar/anatomy fail. Do I chance it?
Then there's the whole this author must know what she's doing because she's got an agent and a publisher and a personal assistant. I have two cats who hate and despise me for giving them baths and two children who can't pick up their socks off the living room floor. Maybe I'm the one who's wrong and Stephanie Meyer is a flippin' genius of story craft. Maybe I've puffed up my self-importance to turgid levels. Maybe I'm not as smart as I've been telling myself all these years.
I don't think my medication is working any more.
Huge amounts of self doubt these days. Lots of flailing thoughts and actions. I'm concentrating on the wrong things and spending too much time on Facebook. Boredom, meet depression. SNAP OUT OF IT ALREADY!!!
This is getting worse instead of better. Maybe later....