Creative Exclamations
It occurs to me, after reviewing my last post here, that I should mention something about myself. I don't use normal exclamations or swear words--not usually, anyway. I don't have a problem with most cussing (except for actually using God's name in vain, as, um, appears in my new Eddie Izzard icon here? Yeah, that), and four letter words don't really bother me. But they're just not my style. If I ever do use the d word, or the f word, or the a word, just to name a few, it's usually in real life, among a certain group of friends, and I do it for humor and nothing else. I like to shock them with my--very rare--potty mouth. (Though, of course, as I keep doing it, it becomes less shocking and therefore less funny. And so I do it even less.)
More often, I just start spewing random words and syllables that express my feelings without actually meaning anything. As a young teenager, "Stinkerfritz!" was my exclamation of choice. Notice that this charming little invective does not, in fact, mean anything, but if you say it loudly and with the right tone, it's very effective for communicating disgust, surprise, and awe, sometimes all three at once.
As I have matured, this has become much more random. In response to whatever situation I find myself in, my brain will supply random words to fit the feeling of the moment. One particularly memorable instance was when I cried "Fish crackers!" very loudly and with great dismay, as one of my friends got a very lucky break in a game of Killer Bunnies. (Card game, it's insane, try it if you can, highly recommended. Here is an entertaining YouTube video of a very genial group of people drinking wine and playing Killer Bunnies and saying the s word.) I wailed this into the shocked silence that had greeted this fellow's incredibly good roll of the dice, and immediately everyone in the circle broke into peals of laughter. They knew exactly what I meant.
I think of it as a sort of Lewis Carroll kind of thing, really. You know, "In brillig when the slithy toves did gyre and gimble in the wabe"? Yeah, he made those up, because they sounded right to fit what he was trying to convey. And so now vorpal and galumping and snicker-snack are in our popular vocabulary, if not in the dictionaries, because the sounds say what you mean.
And so I say things like "Fudge knuckles!" and "Sweet babies/cousins/son of Benjamin Davis" and "Adirondack condominium." They just say what I mean, that's all.
Now, apparently, I have lost even words. Last night at D&D, in response some surprising twist or other, I sputtered something that sounded sort of like this, I think: "Dig--oshni--afnikub!"
Meant nothing. Made my friends laugh in surprise at my utter idiocy. I was not displeased.
And so if, in reading my posts, you come across a phrase like "Great glory and ham nickles!", I hope you will understand what I mean to say.
More often, I just start spewing random words and syllables that express my feelings without actually meaning anything. As a young teenager, "Stinkerfritz!" was my exclamation of choice. Notice that this charming little invective does not, in fact, mean anything, but if you say it loudly and with the right tone, it's very effective for communicating disgust, surprise, and awe, sometimes all three at once.
As I have matured, this has become much more random. In response to whatever situation I find myself in, my brain will supply random words to fit the feeling of the moment. One particularly memorable instance was when I cried "Fish crackers!" very loudly and with great dismay, as one of my friends got a very lucky break in a game of Killer Bunnies. (Card game, it's insane, try it if you can, highly recommended. Here is an entertaining YouTube video of a very genial group of people drinking wine and playing Killer Bunnies and saying the s word.) I wailed this into the shocked silence that had greeted this fellow's incredibly good roll of the dice, and immediately everyone in the circle broke into peals of laughter. They knew exactly what I meant.
I think of it as a sort of Lewis Carroll kind of thing, really. You know, "In brillig when the slithy toves did gyre and gimble in the wabe"? Yeah, he made those up, because they sounded right to fit what he was trying to convey. And so now vorpal and galumping and snicker-snack are in our popular vocabulary, if not in the dictionaries, because the sounds say what you mean.
And so I say things like "Fudge knuckles!" and "Sweet babies/cousins/son of Benjamin Davis" and "Adirondack condominium." They just say what I mean, that's all.
Now, apparently, I have lost even words. Last night at D&D, in response some surprising twist or other, I sputtered something that sounded sort of like this, I think: "Dig--oshni--afnikub!"
Meant nothing. Made my friends laugh in surprise at my utter idiocy. I was not displeased.
And so if, in reading my posts, you come across a phrase like "Great glory and ham nickles!", I hope you will understand what I mean to say.