Language Barriers; Another Camel Toe Contest

 

So. Yesterday was as interesting a Thursday as I might ever have had. OK, wait. Perhaps I should have said that yesterday was as interesting a Thursday as ever I might have had. That’s the sort of grammar dealie that throws me the worst. Proper use of adverbs, and other of our language’s modifiers, confuse me the most.

When I seek to communicate with maximum clarity and minimum disclarity, I sometimes get all perplexed and shit. Like with the word clarity. See, Websters’ Unabridged says that the opposite of clarity is confusion. But I’m not confused in the least when I attempt to communicate, but rather I have a clarity issue with my attempt to say precisely what it is I want to say, in a way that will accurately communicate said what it is I want to say, to the reader.

When I sense that my prose is falling short of accurate communication, those sensings are the stimuli for my need to invent a word to fit the situation. Like disclarity, which in and of itself, maybe should be unclarity. Or even anticlarity. I guess the choice there would be the gross expected lack of clarity I would expect my reader to suffer.

Take, for example, yesterday’s trip to the dentist, my dentist. It was time for me to get my teeth cleaned and inspected, and since the Squirt has broken the point off one of her way-back molars, she needed an inspection as well. The little dog refuses to see the vet for her dental care because I love Melissa, my longtime hygienist over to Dr. Kelly Keith’s office. I like the doctor too, and Alma is one of my favorite Grand Dames, but if Melissa ever retires I’m going to simply take the pliers to my remaining teeth and go on a liquid diet.

Anyway, Squirt will only go to my dental practice of choice and she has fallen for sweet Melissa as hard as I have. It’s a hoot trying to interpret Squirt’s multi-language banter when her mouth is full of Melissa fingers and dental instruments.

“Miff unth anth therth phuff an theeth?” was one of the trickier of Squirt’s comments requiring my interpretive skills.

Melissa said, “She is so cute, but I haven’t a clue what she says.”

“Well,” I started, “if I’m getting the gist of it, I think she just used German, French and Swahili to say, ‘That tickles.’”

I later was informed that I had missed that one in its entirety. Squirt told me, she said, “Ich sagte: J’ai besoin de cracher, dumbass.”

“Hey, little lady, don’t be calling me the dumbass. It’s the job of the communicator to insure the clarity of his communication,” I told her. “I will admit that my second choice was that you needed to spit.”

See what I mean about language? Which reminds me. You need to go over to Squatlo Rant and check out the John Stewart video clip he posted yesterday. It might be the funniest ten minutes of TV ever. It’s a dealie about Dr. Marcus Bachmann, the alleged gay husband of Michele. I’ve watched it a half-dozen times already.

Which might explain the silly dream I had last night. It was a camel toe dream and it was one of my “Mystery Camel Toe Series” where I see just the camel toe and have to guess who it belongs to. OK, I have to guess to whom it belongs. See what I mean?

So, I had a line-up of three beauties and I guessed the first two correctly– Sarah Palin’s camel toe and Kathy Griffin’s camel toe, a pair of my personal favorites. The third I missed by a country mile. It was a plump job, dressed in a light purple leotard of sparkly Lycra. It had a largish center meat line that I thought I recognized as another of my favorites. “That’s Oprah Winfrey,” I said to my dream’s contest announcer, Pat Sajack. “I love Oprah’s camel toe and she almost always displays it in the color purple.”

I was incredibly wrong, a fact I discovered when the bag was lifted and I saw the cherubic face and impish grin of Dr. Marcus Bachmann. Dr. Bachmann had a very convincing slug of imitation lady’s pocket meat. It was like his pretending to be a woman was something well-practiced.

I awoke from the dream in a sweat at 4:30 am and washed my mouth out with a Carta Blanca beer. I keep my favorite brew handy in a mini-fridge sitting near my bed.

Ugh. I think I need some extra therapy. Manana, y’all.

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2 Responses to “Language Barriers; Another Camel Toe Contest”

  1. Squatlo says:

    Dr. Bachmann’s ample camel toe would be enough to send me straight over to see your psycho-therapist, Mooner.

    go back to my site and read my Catholic confessing his masturbation sins post. You’ll appreciate that one, since you helped inspire it…

  2. Squat. Great post. Glad I can be a positive influence somewhere.

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