Category: laffs

Insults that aren’t really curse words

I was reading a bit of a gossip rag online this afternoon and stumbled upon an unknown (to me) insulting curse word. It’s one of those great borderline usages…not really a dirty word, but close enough to get the idea across.

And if said with vigor, makes all the impact you need.

The word that is now the newest addition to my personal lexicon is nobsack.

Used in context: “… she knows a thing or two about unbearably dirty-looking nobsacks.”

I don’t know *exactly* what the word means, but I bet I can hazard a pretty darn close guess.

It sounds British. The British really are wonderful for the insulting words that aren’t cursing…you know, prat and wanker and bollocks. All good ones to drop in casual conversation.

Nobsack has a new, fresh sound to it. I do get so weary of the time tested “douche bag” which has regained popularity recently. The cooler kids have reduced it to just “douche” and morphed it into an adverb…”Why do you have to be so douchey?”

It’s not one I use much, but it works. Insulting without cursing. This is good. At my last job, cursing was like water, flowing its way through every conversation. Heck, our CEO used the term “batsh*t” in reference to our competition. Cursing was expected and I gladly went along for the ride (much to my mother and brother’s dismay).

At my new gig, no one curses. It was even addressed as part of my new hire training. So I’m having to break a nearly ten year habit. As such, I’m collecting non-cursing insults. Like dillweed and dillhole. Time tested, mother approved.

I knew someone from Mexico who used the Spanish word for peanut, cacahuate, as a replacement for sh–. It does certainly *sound* bad when said strongly.

Well, I’ll keep collecting the “clean” dirty words. This is a tough transition.

And anyone who says differently is a nobsack.

Yeah, that flows pretty good off the tongue.

What’s in a name?

The Good Man, being the very good man that he is, agreed to run my car into the shop today. So as such, he drove me to work this morning.

As we careened down the Bay Area highways, we were cut off by a Mercury Mountaineer.

I said to TGM, “The Mountaineer…that was never really a big hit, was it?”

TGM said, “No, it’s essentially a Ford Explorer anyway.”

Then I replied, “I always thought Mountaineer was a stupid car name anyway.”

Which tipped off a whole conversation about absurd car names…TGM was on a ROLL. I laughed my head off and in the middle of his rant, I said, “I foresee a blog entry.”

So here it is. The content below is mostly stolen from the brilliant mind of TGM.

Without further ado, my top five most absurd names of cars you’ll see rolling on the roads today:

5. Nissan Armada. “What, is the main feature that it sinks off the coast of England?” said TGM (A comment that had me laughing so hard I got a stitch in my side.)

4. Dodge Durango. What a wimpy SUV name. Have these people ever actually BEEN to Durango. I have. And what is it about the sleepy Colorado town that the car should evoke? Am I supposed to think snow? And mountains? No, I think tourist trap. Look at me in my rolling tourist trap.

3. Chevy Avalanche. “Now that name is appropriate, it is a disaster rolling down a hill.” (TGM was on fire this morning.)

2. Toyota Echo. “It’s bears a faint resemblance to a car, but isn’t actually a car.”

1. The winner and still the King: Ford Probe. “I sure as hell don’t want something made by Ford up in space,” said TGM. To which I replied “or up my butt”.

Yes, childish as I am…the Ford Probe makes me think of something more…medical. I don’t want to think of uncomfortable medical situations while driving to work every morning.

Or maybe that’s just me.

Anyhow…there were plenty more, but I was laughing so hard, I couldn’t make notes.

Special thanks to TGM for both his brilliance and for making the ride to work more fun.

If you drive any of the above automobiles, I’m sure it’s a *fine* car…just has a dorkish name! :)

Haaawhoof!

That approximates the exact sound I made at about 10:55 this morning.

I had a “meet and greet” with the boss of my boss, a high ranking and incredibly powerful woman.

I mean, she’s brilliant. Has a degree in chemistry and another in finance. Worked for an oil company in Houston for many years and then made her way west. The continuing upward steps in her career are admirable.

Her background is deep, diverse and amazing.

Let’s just say this: She is a force to be reckoned with.

And as a new employee in her organization, I got the chance to have an hour of her time so she could get to know me and so I could get to know her too.

I was told by my mentor that I should, “come with an agenda, don’t leave open air”. Her time if valuable, to be sure. And so I did. I came to the table with a print out of questions I jotted down and I noticed she took note that I had.

I asked her about her background, her management philosophy and what I can do to be effective here at the company. And she answered very candidly.

I even asked her what is her nitpick so that I can manage to that. She told me two.

That’s some managerial self-awareness!

So it was an intense hour, but good, meaningful and filled with useful information.

When it was over, I came out of her office pitted out (meaning, I needed a Right Guard moment, raise your hands if you’re Sure, etc).

So, for me, the life moments that cause me to get pitted out all get measured on the scale of completing the orals for my Master’s degree.

Wearing a suit, in front of my professor committee, at the marker board, explaining economic theory. Yeah, despite two coats of D.O., I was WAY pitted out that day. That was the worst.

So if we call “Master’s Orals” a 10, today’s moisture was about a three. So low, but still…

I musta been more nervous that I even thought going in.

When all was done, I came out of the boss lady’s office, went up two floors to my office, ripped off my cardigan, and uttered a long drawn out “haaawhoof!”

You know the sound. The one you make when you’ve finished your laborious taxes. The one you make when your shaky team is up by one with three seconds on the clock in a playoff game and they manage to win.

The one you make when you want very much to make a good impression on someone who could literally make or break you and your career.

Haaaaawhoooooof!

Go Speed Racer!

Whoo! Had quite the day at “work”. I put the air quotes around it, because even though I got up at the usual time and drove in to work, I didn’t do any *actual* work today.

It was the occasion of my group’s annual holiday offsite event. This is only my fourth week of employment.

We went to a new and very well managed Go Kart Racing facility. They are set up for corporate “team building” events. I dunno if talking smack and bumping your coworker ’round the curves is building a team, but it was a heck of a lot of fun.

We were broken up into two teams and each team got two goes at the race course. First was “warm up” laps, to learn the course. Then it got serious. I placed in the middle of the pack for times in the warm up laps.

Then we did a “qualifying round,” and from the results would be positioned for the final round.

So, while we waited for the qualifying round, oh did the smack talk begin. The “you’re going down!” comments started flying. And not from me. No, they came AT me. And I smiled. And I put on my pink helmet.

And I kicked everyone’s ass.

That’s right, I won the qualifying round, got the pole position, and never looked back.

Many of my new coworkers were like “wow, you were really…aggressive…out there.” Umm hmm…they wouldn’t have said that to a male driver. I’m just sayin’.

I was proud because another of my coworkers, one who took the MOST grief (they told her she drove like she was taking her kids to school. That ain’t right) came in second right behind me.

Girl Power!

After the racing then we played pool, ate and talked about the team and how we’ll approach next year.

So far, I’m really digging this job. Some of the best folks I’ve ever worked with. I just hope I can step up soon and be a fully functioning member of the group. They’ve been nothing but great to me.

Next up: the entire corporation has a holiday event Saturday. The Good Man gets to go too. It’s gonna be BIG fun!

The Trickster

Oh yes, I am.

The Trickster.

See….soooomehow, in the course of a series of interviews, a fairly well crafted resume and a bunch of conversations, I’ve managed to convince the procurement organization of a well respected Fortune 500 corporation to award me the title of Senior Manager complete with an office (with a window that has a really nice view) and a fairly robust staff of minons to do my bidding.

Me. The goofball from New Mexico. The kid who, once upon a time, had to be taken to the doctor because I got a piñon nut stuck up my nose.

That one.

For some reason they actually think I might be…..good.

Damn. I convinced them. Now what?

I’m pretty sure I’m a fraud.

Day 3, the rubber is, you know, sort of starting to meet the road.

Can I shove another piñon nut up my nose and sidestep this responsibility?

No, probably not. Guess I better just keep showing up and trying to make good on who they seem to think I am.

Abject fear. Whatta rush.