WEEPLE

Newest addition to the Big Book of Bunkum:

weeple (n.) that part of melting wax that dribbles off a candle holder onto a pristine tablecloth leaving a frightful mess to fix or, a birthday candle without a wick that leaves the celebrant in a sobbing state of affairs and yet another god-awful glitch to resolve toute de suite.

e.g. Druzzil Ethan Damnaglaur, an inferior minstrel player whose saving grace was a rather odd form of genteel gesticulation, experienced an unfortunate turn of events recently involving an altercation with a 15 lb. English dictionary, a regrettable passage of ill wind in the small gut, and a whopping if not woebegone weeple leaving everyone in its wake snorting, snuffling and squiggling with a curious “what now?” look on their faces as they tried to bring some semblance of order back to a preposterous state of affairs that can best be described as where to stick a smoking match so it won’t discourage people from lighting their own fire – instead of waiting around for someone else to light it for them - be it God, Godot or just the smiley-faced Man from Glad.

Contributed by: Zelda Awdly, a professional tea party-tosser and part-time periphrastic pink slip writer from Grand Detour, Illinois.

MINGAFLING

Newest addition to the Big Book of Bunkum:

mingafling (n.) a tiny piece of some unpleasant smelling thing one can’t extricate and exterminate because it’s in a difficult-to-get-one's-hands-on nook or cranny somewhere.

e.g. Fritz Fantastico, (owner of the famous "Honky Tonker Hideaway & Hooch House" in Mosquitoville, Vermont), in a moment of booze-fuelled bliss decided that he really needed to take a powder in order to get out from under a blanket of chaos and a kiss gone wrong – so after a period of pithy pondering he surmised that watching a squeaky-clean musical-variety TV show with a few of his bosom beer buddies from Lick Skillet, Virginia might give him a new lease on life – little did he know however that his refrigerator (covered with inspiring affirmation magnates ...like "You Only Live Once -- So Supersize Your Popcorn!") was remarkably bare with the exception of a mangled mess of mathematical equations lying limply on the second shelf and a murky mingafling which he soon realized he could not nurse back to health without the aid of a minor miracle, let alone hope to find in the nick of time anytime soon.

Contributed by Parker Lunch, (born in Hungry Horse, Montana), who spends a good deal of time toe-wrestling and musing about the cause of bumps in the night that many of us hear and refuse to do anything about because we don’t like surprises, whether good or bad.