Bamboozled. Loopy. Wasabi. According to an article in Writers Digest, these words, when added to an essay, will cause readers to titter. (I added titter, not only because it’s a funny word, but because, if the word is spoken aloud, millions of men will tune in and hopefully stay put, even when they get to the “ter.”)
This article made me scratch my noggin and wonder if I have the gumption to write a post with as many of these words as I can possibly stuff in to see if it can make even your basic curmudgeon finagle a grin.
Now, I know my blog readers won’t be bamboozled into laughter, just because I write the word didgeridoo. Indubitably, my readers are more persnickety and would most likely eschew that sort of falderal. (that one’s mine too.)
This sort of thing can be a little janky (yeah, I had to look that up. It means of poor quality,) so I’ll try not to get all gunky, so you can get back to canoodling (if you’re lucky.)
Here’s the thing, even though the most lackadaisical namby-pamby enjoys a good laugh, no one can be all things to all people. My humor is probably best understood and dismissed as the musings of an unstable mind by Americans. So I’m always gobsmacked when someone in Sri Lanka reads my doohickey.
Are people in countries where they still wear pantaloons amused by my love for Chris Martin? Do the Bahamians enjoy the word wenis when they look it up and realize it means the extra skin on your elbow? Or do they wander off, and give up on the whole shebang feeling hornswoggled?
Since I’ve received hits from 29 countries, I have to believe that a bevy of folks make the attempt to understand what I’m talking about, even those in Canada, whose national anthem I’ve mangled in a previous post.
At this time, I’m going to interrupt this blog to say, I’m not going to use smegma in a sentence, even though it’s pretty amusing on the surface, it’s icky underneath. You’re welcome, Words with Friends players.
By this point, many of you are unable to read through your tears of laughter or have wandered off after realizing titter means giggling. Personally, I’m not sold. First of all, it seems like a lot of hullabaloo (note to Boomers: You’re thinking sixties rock programming, aren’t you?) for a single blog post read by tens of people.
Secondly, it’s just too much work, which is not something to do for a hobby. Hitherto, I’ve just typed what goes on in my head, much to everyone’s chagrin.
So, to avoid a rumpus, I’ll return to my usual loopy meanderings once I’ve tested spell check to it’s limits.
However, for a change of pace. See if you can count the funny words and I’ll tell you if you’re right.
By the way, I had to introduce four of these words to my dictionary.