My interest was piqued by the following statement and she immediately had my full BBG attention:
BBG: Blah, blah, fuckity nonsense blah...
AnonD: ...Well, lemme tell you about some crime in the 'hood.
BBG: (Click. Lights a smokey treat I'm already so invested in what's about to be verbally unfolded before me.)
Turns out AnonD's next door neighbor keeps an unmarked work van in the driveway during the night. The homeowner's boyfriend. (I really, reeeeeally hate "boyfriend". That's sumthin' Taylor Swift should have, not some 50some year old broad. But my preferred vernacular of 'manfriend' has not caught on as I'd hoped... [heavy sigh]) Anyfuckin'hoo, his van has had a screw twisted into one of his tires five times over the past several weeks. When AnonD woke up that morning she spied him outside with the police making a report.
As we discussed the 'sitch I mentioned that while I don't wanna sound like I'm blamin' the victim of the vandalism (crime really, I mean having to replace tires at $100 - 200 a pop is a crime when it's comin' outta your wallet.), but I can't see that happenin'. If it happened more than once I'd be the biggest not sleepin', sittin' in the dark at the window, consuming massive quantities of Mt. Dew to stay awake girl you'd ever see. I would be the 2012 Big Brown permutation of Gladys Kravitz. As I said this to AnonD I turned the sentence(s), "I'd have tire screw-er's ass no matter how many sleepless nights it took. Allowing it to happen 5x?!? No. Tire screw-er wouldn't have the opportunity to do it five fuckin' times."
...At which point I heard myself. And said to AnonD, "'tire screw-er' sounds naughtier than it is." She agreed and we
Since then I've become seemingly fixated on words/things/people that sound naughtier than they actually are.
~Batter Blaster (click). It sounds like something used on the set of Beach Blanket Bukkae III: Babes of Baton Rouge. (Huh.
~Shanking balls. Actually, anything golf. Between the 'shaft', the 'hole' and the 'dry box', well, let's just say I have no comprehension of how golf announcers don't disintegrate into 14 year old kid laughter at every swing of the big steel shaft.
~Dutch baby. Honestly, I don't even know what that is, but I've heard it and every time I have I stifle a laughter. It sounds like some super intricate sex maneuver; Last night he Dutch Babied me. And. Oh. My. Gawd, Becky...
...Welllllllllll. Look at me.
~Ballcock. Who, with a straight face named that?
~Gladiator. Mostly because when I hear someone say it, it makes me think '(and he was) glad he ate her'. Which sounds like the punchline of a
~Coxsackie (New York) I once proposed driving several hundred miles out of our way on a road trip just so I could get my picture taken next to the city sign.
~Lougayness. Actually, Greg Louganis. I can't help but when I hear/see his name to think it's pretty spectacular to have 'gayness' as part of your name and to actually be gay. I'm glad it's a fun fluke. And it's not like we're cosmically named what we'll turn out to be. I'd hate to be named BBG Bigassness. But good for Greg.
~Balljoint. I know about this one because evidently I broke one on my previous sport ute. I remember concentrating sooooo hard on containing my response to the mechanic calling to inform me to, "reeeeally?", so as not to say anything inappropriate, as I am wont to do.
~Caucus. I know, it's generally a group with a degree of gravitas, however... caucus? Seriously? I'm not supposed 'ta snicker? Bitch, please.
~Hot Buns (click). Yeah, yeah, I get it... Hair. Buns. ...But if anything Hot Buns oughta be company that brought back Ryan O'Neal's assless jeans from the Main Event and remixed 'em for the twelves.
Well, enough not naughty time wasting. Go get real naughty with your favorite person! Or at least back to the stuff you're supposed to be doin' right now.