NAME-DROOPING
A new addition to the Big Book of Bunkum:
name-drooping (n.) the tell-tale sign of a wilting wunderkin who learns that his sagging reputation is not covered under a blanket white-wash insurance policy or protected by a money-laundering machine manufacturer’s warranty
e.g. Dr. Uranus Upthrow, (a prominent spin-doctor and founder of the Institute of Uppish Things), after completing a thorough investigation of the flimsy facts surrounding the untimely demise of a prominent putz named Lord Whatnot, concluded that the chemical detergents used in a leading-edge patented money-laundering process to add a bit of bounce to his cheques had in fact obliterated and mangled his reputation beyond recognition; this finding did not however support the corner's report suggesting that the uppity fellow had played one too many games of whist for his own good and consumed more than the legal limit of fizzy beverages recommended for a 25 lb. pixie ... fortunately for the noble nimrod his name-drooping days were over none too soon.
Contributed by: Vulgus Belcher, a zippy zitherist in the world-renowned “Possom Trot Tabernacle Choir” and full-time American Sign Language pit-boss at the “House of Card Sharks” retirement home (located on the outskirts of Monkey’s Eyebrow, Kentucky)
name-drooping (n.) the tell-tale sign of a wilting wunderkin who learns that his sagging reputation is not covered under a blanket white-wash insurance policy or protected by a money-laundering machine manufacturer’s warranty
e.g. Dr. Uranus Upthrow, (a prominent spin-doctor and founder of the Institute of Uppish Things), after completing a thorough investigation of the flimsy facts surrounding the untimely demise of a prominent putz named Lord Whatnot, concluded that the chemical detergents used in a leading-edge patented money-laundering process to add a bit of bounce to his cheques had in fact obliterated and mangled his reputation beyond recognition; this finding did not however support the corner's report suggesting that the uppity fellow had played one too many games of whist for his own good and consumed more than the legal limit of fizzy beverages recommended for a 25 lb. pixie ... fortunately for the noble nimrod his name-drooping days were over none too soon.
Contributed by: Vulgus Belcher, a zippy zitherist in the world-renowned “Possom Trot Tabernacle Choir” and full-time American Sign Language pit-boss at the “House of Card Sharks” retirement home (located on the outskirts of Monkey’s Eyebrow, Kentucky)