10 New Phrases That You Should Add to Your Vocabulary Immediately

Note: I was having a comment conversation with the lovely Sheila, wherein we chatted about the Piggly Wiggly supermarket chain, and it prompted me to drag this out of the archives. Enjoy.

1. Frigi-Daze

The concept of opening the refrigerator and staring forlornly at the contents, unable to make a decision about what it is that you want to shove into your mouth. You know you want something, voices are speaking to you, calling your name, but the language is unclear and not very helpful. You stare at the sadly unchanging stuff-I-don’t-want until your eyes crust over.

Example Usage: “I was in a frigi-daze and then the stupid thing started beepin’ and Momma smacked me on the head.”

2. Bill-Rot

The condition that occurs when the stack of unpaid bills on your desk actually start to disintegrate from lack of attention, with some requests for payment hanging around so long that you give them pet names. Side effects include cut-off notices, rude automated phone calls from people in India, and snooty waiters waltzing back to your table and demanding another form of payment in a very loud voice while the cream gravy congeals on your half-eaten chicken-fried steak.

Example Usage: “I got me so much bill-rot right now that the city sent out an inspector and he fined my butt. Now I’m broker than ever. Guess I won’t be goin’ to the tractor pull over to Sludgeville. Hurts my heart, that does, cuz you get a free corny dog if you buy a ticket for both nights.”

3. Splooge-Hop

The erratic and awkward dance step one performs when sashaying down the hallway in the middle of the night and suddenly stomping on a cat’s hairball in your bare feet. Possible screaming and general repulsion ensues.

Example Usage: “I just wanted me another quick bite of Sally Mae’s potato chip casserole, and next thing you know I’m splooge-hoppin’ for Jesus. Whacked my head on the wall, I did. Damn cat just sat there and looked at me.”

4. Beer-Muda Triangle

The mysterious and unexplained disappearance of beers that should have still been in the refrigerator, despite careful planning and published regulatory procedures on who gets to touch what. Side effects include harsh accusations, abrupt changes in evening agendas, and spontaneous weeping.

Example Usage: “I still had me a good two hours left of the Shark Week marathon when I opened the fridge and every dang beer done got sucked up in the Beer-Muda Triangle. Now, I know I paced myself just right, wasn’t my doin’, so I’m blamin’ that simple cousin that Verlene brought over ‘cause she’s doin’ some Christian thing with the church where you’re sposed to reach out and touch the unwashed. Why she gotta do the Lord’s work in my house? And why can’t the unwashed bring their own beer?”

5. Gastrocity

The unfortunate condition of experiencing militant gas bubbles at very inopportune times. Side effects include the sudden need to walk very slowly despite the bulls at Pamplona having just been unleashed, the reluctance to join any nearby limbo contests regardless of the rabid encouragement of your drinking buddies, and the realization that hitting a speed bump while in a car with your boss could totally change your career.

Example Usage: “Lula Belle, I could not believe it, we were at the funeral and just tryin’ to get Aunt Cornpone in the ground and be done with it, but right when Pastor Buckshot handed me a clod of dirt to chuck at Cornie’s casket, the gastrocity hit me like I just had a bowl of chili at Buford’s Grunt and Run Diner. I didn’t dare do an overhand throw or there might have been some back-firin’, so I just dropped the clod on the ground and nudged it in with my foot. I’m sure Cornie understood, bless her heart, cuz she had butane issues of her own. She’s the reason why my chicken coop leans like it does.”

6. Roll-Clanker

The odd, unidentified items that are rolling around in your car, making you wonder what in the hell that might be, but not causing you enough consternation to actually do something about it, because you have places to be and buffets to eat.

Example Usage: “All I was doin’ was headin’ to the Piggly Wiggly, ‘cause they had them a sale on turnip greens, when all the sudden some roll-clanker got caught up under my brake pedal and I couldn’t stop and next thing I know I’m crashin’ through the front window of the Dairy Queen. Ended up with soft-serve ice cream in my hair, and you know how much money I just spent at the Snip and Twirl so I could look like Reese Witherspoon. Made me right mad.”

7. Crow-Bar Action

A down-low term referring to a man or a woman who pursues intimate relations with someone who hasn’t been taken for a test drive in quite some time.

Example Usage: “I swear, I don’t know what’s got into Billy Ray Junior, runnin’ off and doin’ the crow-bar action with those dried-out sisters at Our Lady of Cobwebs church. Ain’t right.”

8. Cell-You-Loss

The slightly-manipulated situation wherein you receive a call on your cell phone, grimace at the name, don’t care to answer it, and “accidentally” hit ignore or even delete the evidence of the communication attempt.

Example Usage: “What’s that, Beatrice? You tried to call me last night so I could come over for the Daughters of Pentecostal Power Potluck? Well, shoot, my phone didn’t make a peep. Must have been cell-you-loss buildup on your end. Yes, that’s a real thing, Bea. Why would I make that up? Sounds like you need to get to a doctor and have that sucked out right away. Let me put you on hold while I get the number.” Click.

9. Post-Nightal Drip

A catch-all term that applies to anything you post on social media after you should have stopped drinking and gone to bed.

Example Usage: “Could you run that by me again, Etsy Mae? You didn’t care for me saying you could suck the chrome off a trailer hitch? Oh, honey, don’t mind that. It was just some post-nightal drip. I’m taking some pills now that should dry me up. Mmm hmmm. Didn’t mean a thing. Love ya bunches. Kiss, kiss.”

10. Vocabularity

The creation of phrases and terms that can be twisted around to make something humorous out of nothing.

Example Usage: This post.



Previously published. Revised and updated with extra flair for this post. (The previous sentence is a lie, as no changes were made to the main content for this current post, but I’m too lazy to fully rewrite this footnote.) No corny dogs were harmed in the making of this post, even though they had a lot of them left over at the tractor pull over to Sludgeville.

Bit of whimsy: I realize that some of you long-time readers are often gracious enough to make new comments on re-postings when you’ve already said your piece on the original, so I’m offering a new commentary option: If you feel so moved, simply type “I know what you did last summer”, which I will just as graciously take as “I already commented on this thing, mere days ago, and it’s beneath both of us for you to expect me to come up with something original once again”. Most of you won’t, but a few of you will, and it will entertain me immensely…


58 replies »

  1. Umm, the splooge-hop used to be a very familiar form of exercise in these parts, except it was my dear Rudy dog (very dearly missed) who couldn’t quite make it out through the door when he got older. Since I’m now older myself, I understand his consternation. But then again, I experienced consternation of my own at the time when the splooge squished between my toes. 😉
    Great post. 🙂

    Liked by 3 people

    • I definitely understand our fur babies reaching a point where they can’t quite manage the loss of control. It’s terrible and sad and heart-breaking. But those young uns? Still fully functioning and perfectly capable of depositing their nasty contributions in a less-traveled venue? That gets on my nerves, as there seems to be a nefarious plot afoot, so to speak… 😉

      Liked by 2 people

  2. My vocabularity, already ginormous, has grown, thanks to you.
    You left “ka-dunge” off your list. It’s that itty bitty dent in the bumper of your pickup from when that deer hit you. Like… “That venison stew sure was good! Too bad your truck got that ka-dunge gettin the meat.”😘

    Liked by 3 people

  3. I haven’t had to splooge-hop for a while now, as our two resident cats have better digestion than one of their predecessors. But I can truly relate to gastrocity. Seems like that would be a bonus at Pamplona, though–a little jet propulsion to increase the speed, while also offering some skunky deterrent to the pursuing cattle. J.

    Liked by 1 person

  4. That Beer-Muda Triangle has a portal at my coordinates… but then the bottles return, lurking in the shadows of my La-z-boy, leaving me to look at them, painfully, in the bright light of day. And they mock me, emptily.

    Liked by 1 person

    • I hear that. Sometimes I go to bed all bitter and disgruntled about how some of the people in this house don’t respect my life goals, then I awaken in the morning and discover a cache of “oops, that was me” bottles behind the chimenea on the patio. Perhaps I shouldn’t have spoken so harshly to perceived transgressors the night before. Perhaps.

      Liked by 1 person

  5. Well, of course I know what you did last summer, but you think I remember?! p-shaw!

    Side note: Regarding your photo, there’s a mayo brand called Duke’s? Never heard of it. More importantly, why do they need to tell you their mayo is smooth? What else would a mayo be?

    Liked by 1 person

    • Yes, the “Duke’s” brand does exist, although it is not readily available in Dallas. (We found such in an HEB store in Waxahachie). As the photographic evidence suggests, we have tried it. For comparative purposes, I find it sweeter than Hellmann’s (my adult fave) but not as sweet as Miracle Whip (my childhood fave). But my understanding is that some folks swear by it.

      What I don’t understand? The smoothness proclamation. Who in their right mind would be invested in CHUNKY mayo? This isn’t peanut butter, right?

      Liked by 2 people

  6. I know none of these phrases. Are they the figments of your own imagination or are they used by your friends and relatives and others? I like gastrocity the best, and vocabularity the second. Now I see how a slang gets started. I googled “chicken fried steak” and it really exists. At first I thought it’s another fictitious phrase.

    Liked by 1 person

    • Oh, this mess all spilled out of my head with little basis in reality. It’s one of my trademark skills.

      Except for the chicken-friend steak. That, as you’ve discovered, is real, and it used to be one of my favorite dishes. But now I prefer chicken-fried chicken, with lots of cream gravy. Yum!

      Liked by 1 person

  7. I experience Frigi-Daze every day, but not much vocabularity. Instead I’ve experienced unvocabularity which is defined as the language dilemma immigrants are thrown in. You use your mother tongue only to do necessary communication but it somehow loses the fun and vitality you enjoyed before; you use the adopted language, English for example, just to get by but without the fun parts. Somehow you realize that you’ve missed the fun in both languages.

    Liked by 1 person

    • Good point on the language issue. I’ve never really looked at it from that perspective, but it makes sense. I don’t have experience as an immigrant, but I’ve studied languages all my life, and even though I have been moderately successful in building up a vocabulary in several languages, I’ve never been very successful when it comes to conversations in those languages. I don’t feel like I’m being “myself” when I speak a different language…

      Liked by 1 person

  8. Er, I do know what you did last summer. I know because you wrote a really funny blog post or two about it. 😉 (I remember this list of yours because I remarked that steppin’ in runny doggie doo in the middle of the night evokes the same “sploog hop” effect, but with a LOT more cussin’.). It makes me particularly upset because my dogs tried to tell me they needed the facilities, but whatever dream I was having was far too absorbing and I didn’t want to get my fat butt out of the bed…

    Liked by 1 person

    • You have a point, there, with the not getting out of bed angle. There have been countless times when I have awoken to the Bonnywood felines making hacking noises in the darkness, indicating that I should drag my ass out of bed and attend to things right then. But nope, I just roll back into slumber land. So I really only have myself to blame when, an hour later, my bladder is sending Defcon 4 warnings and I stumble upon the squishy during my pinballing trip to the loo…


  9. Umm…I don’t even know what I did last summer. 😬
    But…I remember when my entire refrigerator held 24 bottles of Boost, one bottle of ketchup and one tub of butter. (I know what you’re thinking).
    Have you ever tried a tablespoon of butter, covered with ketchup and washed down with a delicious, nutritional chocolate drink?
    Me neither! Bwahahahaha!

    Liked by 1 person

    • Um, no, I haven’t indulged in the delicacy of which you speak. But I can say that I had a sister who used to grab a spoon and eat butter right out of the tub. I didn’t judge, because I would eat PEANUT butter out of the jar, but I knew in my heart that I was getting the better deal.

      By the way, I’m still having trouble leaving comments on your blog. I suspect that the issue is on my end, as our internet connection can be tenuous at times and it’s possible that my wordy comments are just too much for the weak signal process fully. (My “likes” seem to stick on your posts, so there’s that.) No biggie, really, I just didn’t want you thinking I didn’t appreciate the great posts you’ve been doing lately, because I do…

      Liked by 1 person

      • Ha! I eat peanut butter out of the jar, but although I buy the name brands, I hate peanut butter that tastes like peanuts. Go figure.
        I used to grab a stick of butter and dip it in the sugar bowl. Talk about scrumptious!
        I’ve had a few people tell me that they can’t leave comments. I just figured my stories sucked. LOLOL

        Liked by 2 people

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