Sunday, October 31, 2004


A new addition to the Big Book of Bunkum:

leaflorn (n.) a denuded type of bushwhacker whose wild wilderness tendencies and lusty bites into virgin forests are unlikely to lead to a naturist tryst

On Golden Swamp is about a moon-struck maxilliped (the usual crusty sort on the outside but a bit of a warm whangdoodle on the inside) and a leaflorn loadstone (played by a 5,000 year-old fossil) whose dead-pan performance is sure to stun an enchanted audience into a well-deserved respose of the soul (somewhere far far away in an equally despondent universe).

Contributed by: Chisholm T. Maulstick, (from Two-Dot, Montana), an enigmatic, semi-colon sort of person whose eclectic contributions to humanity include a school science project on the at-risk behavior exhibited by siblings of badgers with poor-parenting skills, tips on how to build a fool-proof heffalump hutch, and where to find the best private collection of kewpie dolls in the world

Friday, October 29, 2004


A new addition to the Big Book of Bunkum:

cookie-cootie (n.) one who bite biscuits with ease but has some difficulty with dust bunnies and speeding bullets

e.g., A little miffed at the latest applicant to the pearly gates of heaven who demanded three wishes: (1) an apprenticeship with the Cookie-Monster (2) a date with a Hostess Twinkie and (3) a ton of S’mores Bars, ...St. Peter replied thoughtfully, "Hold on there cookie-cootie -- we've got cutbacks up here, so you'll just have to make do with reheated angel-food leftovers."

Contributed by: Martha Butter-Fingers, syndicated foodie talk-show host, former member of the "Wicked Witch Coven" and celebrated author of, “The Gourmet Goblin – How to Make Scream Cuisine from Halloween Left-Overs

Thursday, October 28, 2004


A new addition to the Big Book of Bunkum:

tavern-tortoise (n.) a member of the tippling species (genus Befuddlemis) whose sub-categories include: boomer-barflies, lounge-lizards, hooch-hounds and pub-crawlers

e.g., The tavern-tortoise carefully examined his preprandial options: (1) a tryst with a loop-legged bar stool, (2) a clandestine affair with a squiffy cork-screw, (3) an alluring weekend fling with a bubbly bottle-opener – none of them seemed to jibe with his loose-fitting flotsam attire (namely a short jerkin), his penchant for pickles (gherkins to be exact), his jerry-built motor bike (with two training wheels), and his recently diagnosed co-dependent, anxiety-prone personality disorder (usually referred to as “the jimjams”).

Contributed by: Jequirty Upwey, a maudlin, night-light sort of person, and barista buzz boy at the Irish-Coffee Club, (Oostburg, Wisconsin)

Wednesday, October 27, 2004


A new addition to the Big Book of Bunkum:

galleyglop (n.) euphemism meaning a burnt sea biscuit that’s none the worse for wear

“Give me galleyglop or give me death!” replied ‘Digby Dagger’, (a part-time pirate and rakish paramour of par-boiled roasted turnips, grilled watercress, and lightly-simmered acorns garnished with a dollop of dung-beetle jam on a slice of 100% multi-grain dry toast).

Contributed by: Tivoli Wallraff, a short-order cook at “The Ten-Course Greasy Spoon Cafe” in Clatsop (Oregon), and unrequited lover of clandestine winks, pop-tarts, and silk boxer shorts

Monday, October 25, 2004


New addition to the Big Book of Bunkum:

umbot (n.) the breathtakingly bewildered or utterly blank look on the face of a blutterbunged soul

e.g. “Of course I’m d-d-delighted to see you again,” the underwhelmed umbot stammered, “...I just thought a Goosebump Bubble Bath and a bowl of Crispy Bat's Wings with Mushy Green Mash might be more tempting than afternoon tea and crumpets followed by a three-hour lecture by Professors Tit Wing Lo and Potchefstroom van Loo on The Quantum Mechanics of Whooshing and the Dilemmas Posed by Leapfrogging Black Holes.”

Contributed by: Jean-Jacques Bacon-Tacon, certified pest control officer and volunteer pin-ball machine installation and repair technician from Floyds Knobs, Indiana

Sunday, October 24, 2004


A new addition to the Big Book of Bunkum:

Panturge (n.) the delightful deity behind all close-fitting, gender-neutral, long drawers and well-intentioned but rather fashionably short if not urbane indiscretions

e.g., If it were not for Panturge thought Matilda, (a cerebro-atmospheric person of size), she probably would not have taken a fifth glance at Bartholemew, (who appeared to be a slightly larger-than-life ginger-bread creationist with a penchant for gratuitous liquor but an altogether very low-on-the-totem-pole status in SOPS – Sanctimonious Order of Pratfallers & Satyrs).

Contributed by: Thumbelina Eudora Dworkin-Sitwell, stay-at-home mother, former editor of an Arizona-based literary journal entitled, Dust Tracks on a Road Going Nowhere, and currently, President of the "Save the Hyphen Society of America"

Saturday, October 23, 2004


A new addition to the Big Book of Bunkum:

stratocumulort (n.) the mumbling sort who walks furtively about, (with his heavy head firmly planted in some puffy dark clouds), inquiring about where to find jumbo bumbershoots, golden parachutes, and the latest weather conditions on Mars

e.g., The sibilant stratocumulort entered “The Temple of Tenpenny Truth & Miscellaneous Stuff” with but one thing on his misplaced mind – how to propitiate the "Deity of Do-Nothing & Piss Poor Performance" and save his sorry skin from the "Flatulating Fickle Finger of Fate Fairy".

Contributed by: Richard Hensleigh Bladdertangle, a renowned landfill anthropoligist, part-time significant other person, and author of a prodigious picture-book entitled, Sports and Pastimes of the People of Driftpile (Alberta), Druid (Saskatchewan), and Goobies (Newfoundland)

Thursday, October 21, 2004


New addition to the Big Book of Bunkum:

peek-a-booist (n.) one who writes politically-correct bafflegab, gender-neutral claptrap, and user-friendly twaddle for the purpose of such things as enhancing the “transparency” rating of shatter-proof glass institutions, or ensuring the “accountability” of displaced stone-throwers enrolled in a government-funded, alternative career path exploration program designed to meet the growing demands of employers in the increasingly complex and competitive world of digital smoke alarms, telemarketing cube farms, and "smart"-talking vanity mirrors

e.g., The peek-a-booist returned to his high-priority, poppycocking tasks for the day: 1) writing a policy paper on how to manage the growing risk to public health posed by homeless dust bunnies, 2) editing an urgent press release regarding random acts of reverie caused by rogue thermometers, and 3) preparing a minister's briefing note on the status of unexplainable wads of tissue paper hanging from fake tree limbs in the Parliamentary Press Gallery; (apparently an odd farewell gesture but nevertheless esteemed token of misplaced affection left by a visiting Head of State, one Dr. Xamba Q. Dar, a former investment banker, amateur taxidermist, and professional pony player from the little-known Republic of Bling-Bling).

Contributed by: Pocatello Pico-Rivera, M.B.A., Ph.D., School of Public Affairs and Private Peccadillos, The University of Weeds, South Essex

Sunday, October 17, 2004


A new addition to the Big Book of Bunkum:

fiddle-faddlemus (n.) a spotless, suave, and sophisticated stick-in-the-mud who can’t shoot pool, can’t howl at the moon, and can’t even carry a blessed tune

e.g., The flat-footed fiddle-faddlemus found solace in a deserted dog-house, where he pondered about the merits of signing up for a popular, low-impact fitness and stress-busting course called, “Potty Golf for Beginners”, or enrolling in a continuing education breakfast seminar on “Risks Associated With Joining the Slow Food Movement”.

Contributed by: Bartleby Quinker (a cosmic waste reduction design engineer, asteroid pay-load landing specialist, and recreational polyglottist)


A new addition to the Big Book of Bunkum:

hoggoblinist (n.) any prominent bugbear whose hogwild, hobnobbing days with the hog-tied hoi polloi, (in a hoity-toity, if not sometimes higgledy-piggledy manner), invariably qualifies him as the right candidate for any left-of-center, middle-of-the-road, mind-boggling political party

e.g., The Piglet Party of the New World (PPNW) announced yesterday that its candidate in the constituency of Leading Tickles, (a well-known stronghold of hard-line heffalumps), would be Dr. Porfer Poog -- a newcomer to the ranks of the hoggoblinists with a “hot” if not peppy music video that’s sure to impress hard-to-reach vapidly-minded voters, and stay-at-home pachyderms demanding more vaudeville acts on the parliamentary debate TV channel.

Contributed by: Pishpek Frunze, a retired hot-water meter maid and the only amateur juggling unicyclist in the Knud Rasmussen Land winter festival (in Northern Greenland just north of Baffin Bay)


A new addition to the Big Book of Bunkum:

toshpot (n.) a mish mash of gobbledygook that could be mistaken for a hodge-podge if it were not for the mysterious combination of unknown ingredients that makes it go snap, cackle and plop

e.g., To the uninitiated eye of a heffalump, the toshpot had more going for it than the crummy empty jar of honey left behind by a crass care bear, a picayune pig and a host of gluttonous folk from "The Friends of the Forest Society".

Contributed by: Jespina Jones, (a disgruntled damsel-in-distress) who, having skipped childhood fantasy tales, now relies on pulp fiction to fulfill her vicarious living needs.


A new addition to the Big Book of Bunkum:

XXL-Dragon (n.) a brash, bombastic, fiery, in-your-face, fleet-of-foot, heavy-handed, self-righteous, globe-trotting peacekeeper for hire that has clearly outgrown his usefulness as a household pet

e.g., “If you don’t let me sit in your lap, I’ll blow your wig off”, said the mild-mannered, smooth-talking XXL-Dragon as he peered down at the wretched burbling robot from AATGASOLITU (The Academy of All Things Great And Small Or Lost In The Universe).

Contributed by: Bob Sub-Etha-Net-125 (formerly of the Gagrakacka Mind Zone)


A new addition to the Big Book of Bunkum:

niptual (n.) a marital mistake that comes back to bite one unexpectedly

e.g., “Love to hear more about the lethal little thing – the niptual – I mean”, said the shrink soporifically as the vexed vampire droned on about an encounter with trilobites, trolls and tosspots, not to mention the telltale signs of a sticky wicket, handsome hickey business deal gone wrong.

Contributed by: Delores Fortunata Pontypriddy (an ambidextrous unisex hairstylist and casual tarot-card reader at the Now-I-Lay-Me-Down-To-Sleep Bed & Breakfast in Rusty Pond Siding, Newfoundland)


A new addition to the Big Book of Bunkum:

Margin-of-Manoeuvreability (MOM) (n.) the shortest distance between a fib and a little white lie

e.g., The philandering, prevaricating politician casually inquired about the price of pot in Port Alberni, if MOM could provide a logical rationale for a ticklish trip with a weather pixie to the North Pole, and whether an incontinent peccadillo with a potty gardener at Government House would compromise his re-election campaign as the Senior Senator from Spuzzum responsible for the "Somnambulant State of Affairs" portfolio.

Contributed by: Rear Admiral (Ret. Her Majesty's Royal Navy) Benjamin Barel Dort


A new addition to the Big Book of Bunkum:

tittynoper (n.) not your average, nippy, noisy naysayer

e.g., The tittynope, not one for simpering small talk or saucy chinwagging, stuck to less contentious subjects of conversation such as the merits of fake furs, 45+ sunscreen, and digital alarm clocks without snooze buttons.

Contributed by: Hari Donkiboi (a creative loafing consultant at the Beldame Beach Club in Shag Harbour, Nova Scotia)


A new addition to the Big Book of Bunkum:

snitum (n.) one who's missing the caring and compassionate gene found in all angels

e.g., Scientists discovered the origin of her vampire lifestyle was probably snitum.

Submitted by: Lljubljana Peever, a salty sentimental scribe, (from Bird-in-Hand, Pennsylavania not far from the throbbing heartland of America), who is deeply attached to dotting her i's and crossing her t's, not to mention watching her p's and q's as she had been taught to by her devoted teachers at the School for the Daughters of Certified Limousine Drivers in Lauzon, Switzerland.


A new addition to the Big Book of Bunkum:

snitkitten (n.) a testy pussy-footer

e.g., The snitkitten's paltry performance was witnessed only by a bald bouncer wearing sapphire-studded suspenders, a well-heeled herd of lemmings and a risqué robot.

Contributed by: Beatrice Tippecanoe, a cantankerous cactus grower and part-time cliff-dweller at the Tonto National Monument in south central Arizona just east of a sun-belt and pina colada place called Phoenix


A new addition to the Big Book of Bunkum:

pecksnitian (n.) one who inquires politely about your health while casually crushing your toes with his hobnailed boots

e.g., The profoundly pithy pecksnitian quickly toasted the belching bride and the grunting groom before commencing his tantalizing soliloquy on unforgettable passages from the classic spellbinder, The Great Pantyhose Crafts Book, by Ed and Stevie Baldwin.

Submitted by: Moosehead Poffenberger, a conservative cigar-smoking crooner from Baie des Ha! Ha! (Quebec), whose penchant for foolhardy feats like walking on water, egg-shells and hot coals got him nominated as a Saint.


A new addition to the Big Book of Bunkum:

kinkle (n.) one whose snout has been far too long in a snuff-box for his own good

e.g., To everyone's surprise, the kinkle, (with his nose slightly out of joint), was obliged to decline a "happy hour" invitation from a fellow carpet knight in favor of a secret rendezvous with a voluptuous platter of ladyfingers.

Contributed by: Desdemona Dwimmercraft, (a taxidermist, part-time tinkle-pantry painter, and casual sculptor of saucy Victorian garden ornaments)


A new addition to the Big Book of Bunkum:

kettle of fishers ( a breathtakingly back-biting bunch of belching boat rockers in need of a positive lifestyle change

e.g., "If it leaks, smells, and has a full head of steam, it's probably a kettle of fishers" replied the deep-thinking picktooth, sultry gigolo and casual pet-astrologer.

Contributed by: Anhondo Smith (a professional paramour/pet groomer, and Honorary Member of the Catch-22 Collective)

Sunday, October 10, 2004


Or, how to impress someone with your mastery of piffling puffery

Weasel words are part of a popular past-time among truculent tergiversators and red-herring practitioners.

Evasion of the truth, or stretching it beyond all recognition is the forte of spin-doctors . It's a wonderful technique that relies upon the use of intentionally vague or ambiguous expressions designed to lead Little Red Riding Hoods down the proverbial prevaricating path.

Weasel words get their name from the weasel's habit of sucking the contents out of an egg without breaking the shell. While weasel words come in all shapes and sizes, they share at least one thing in common -- a knack for bluffing the audience into believing that the Emporer is wearing titillatingly trendy togs when in fact his blessed birthday suit leaves a lot to be desired.

Here are a few waffling weaselisms for your reading enjoyment.

  • "harm reducers" -- a polite term for community health nurses who ride about in coffee wagons dispensing prophylactic devices, clean syringes, and low-carb candy bars to temporarily displaced inhabitants residing in marginal areas.

  • "high-performance essentially impermeable latex barriers" -- a polite term for a condom that may also be lubricated, ribbed, or ultra-thin to deliver a virtually orgasmic experience to the owner.

  • "a little bit pregnant" -- a colloquial term for a small glitch in the fairytale about immaculate conception.

  • "organized sponteneity" -- journalistic jargon for the impromptu blurts that keep viewers glued to a televised political debate between a left-of-centre lemming and a right-leaning troll.

  • "non-pedular venom delivery agent" -- technical term for any serpent who resides in an apple consumed by Adam and friends who haven't a clue about the snippet of chaos, touch of distaster, or morsel of full-blown mayhem that will befall them in the Garden of Eden.

There are many more deliciously devious words in our lexicon of ludicrous lulus. So, next time you're faced with a dull meeting or a boring party...liven it up with a few of your own juicy weasel words. After all, it's never too late to practice a moment or two of delightful dupery.