Word of the Week: Taxon!

This week's word is TAXON: a taxonomic category, as a species or genus.

Diamonda stormed into the trophy room, nearly tripping over the huge polar bear rug in the doorway. “Stella!” she spat, her sapphire-blue eyes glinting angrily. “You know you’re not allowed within a thousand yards of Uncle Pierre’s house! I’m calling your parole officer!”

“Ahem,” mumbled Torque uncomfortably. “I’ll just leave you ladies to talk things out.” He killed the music and casually melted into the background, hiding behind a moth-eaten stuffed water buffalo.

“Diamonda?” Stella frowned prettily, staring around the room at the pelts and mounted heads. “Is that you? How did we end up in West Africa?”

“Don’t try that amnesia stunt on me,” hissed Diamonda. “It might have fooled the judge and both of your ex-husbands, but it doesn’t fool me!”

“You wouldn’t report your favorite sister, would you?” Stella fingered a brass plaque that listed the taxon of the Australian kookaburra bird. “I’ll buy you a new mink stole if you forget you saw me here,” she wheedled.

“Mink?” scoffed Diamonda. “The taxon mink alone would bankrupt you, and we both know it! Unless your new sugar daddy is bringing in more blackmail money than your last one!”

“You leave Torque out of this!” snarled Stella.

Trash Talk Tuesday: Nasty toaster!

Sometimes, Trash Talk is elaborate. Other times, it is concise, to the point, and strangely evocative.

"Go! I will chunk you into a nasty toaster!"

Word of the Week: Quagga!

This week's word is QUAGGA: an extinct equine African mammal related to and resembling the zebra.

Stella led Torque down the hallway into the huge trophy room at the mansion. “I had no idea Uncle Pierre was such a prolific hunter,” she exclaimed, her eyes round with awe. “Just look at all these pelts! They must be worth a fortune!”

“I’ll say,” gloated Torque, stroking the glassy-eyed head of an extinct quagga. “And soon all of this will be ours!”

“Just as long as my sister, Diamonda, doesn’t persuade poor Uncle Pierre to change his will.” Stella slipped her arms around Torque’s neck. “It would just ruin everything.”

“Oh, I’ll see to it she doesn’t.” Torque pressed a button on the CD player, and they began to dance as Mick Quagga sang, “I can’t get no satisfaction.”

Trash Talk Tuesday: My special finger!

Trash talk isn't limited to bath time. The other day when our son hurt T's hand, we got a beautiful sample:

"He has wilted my special finger! Now we will just eat him for breakfast!"

Word of the Week: Incalescence!

This week's word is INCALESCENCE: the process of becoming warm or hot.

“I’m here to see Dr. Sheridan,” announced Zinc as he strode into the Windy Beach Incalescence Home.

“Yes, we spoke on the phone,” said a honey-sweet voice behind him. “I’m Dr. Sheridan.”

“Tiffette?” Zinc whirled, staring incredulously at the shapely, white-coated figure. “I thought I’d never see you again after you eloped with Xavier!” He crushed Dr. Sheridan to his chest in a breathless embrace.

“Mr. Oxide, this is neither the time nor the place,” she whispered, pushing him away and adjusting her stethoscope. “Your uncle Pierre’s condition is still critical. There’s no way to tell whether his convalescence will continue.”

“Sorry, Tiffette,” he mumbled, gazing deep into the emerald-green eyes he knew so well. “I shouldn’t have let the incalescence of my heart run away with me.”

Trash Talk Tuesday: You menacing walrus!

What I love most about T's trash talk is the vivid imagery. Here's a timeless classic:


"Just ask the crumb, you menacing walrus! Bang! You are a bone!"

Word of the Week: Pulchritude!

We're a word-loving family, especially Dad. One of the GG's most popular features is the Word of the Week, an ongoing soap opera that features a vocabulary word used both correctly and incorrectly.

This week's word is PULCHRITUDE: physical beauty or comeliness.

Stella posed in the doorway, a vision of pulchritude in her long, sequined gown. "I do hope I'm not late," she purred, touching the glittering diamonds at her throat with a perfectly proportioned hand.

"Late? LATE?" snapped Torque. "We should have been there an hour ago! At this rate, your Uncle Pierre will be ready to cut us right out of the will, especially after you wrecked his Jaguar last week."

"I've had it with your bad pulchritude!" hissed Stella. "Would it kill you to look on the bright side for once?"

Trash Talk Tuesday: A hasty leaf!

Our nine year old daughter, T, combines a flair for language with a head of thick, long hair. Every time we get out the hairbrush, she lets loose with a stream of colorful invective.

Here's her latest:

"It's time to turn you into a hasty leaf and put you in the fridge!"