December 7th, 2015
Blake & Matt
blucking [bluhk-ing], v – an accelerated chewing process, typically accompanied by a circular hand gesture and repetitive nodding, used to indicate that you’ve got something to say but have too much food in your mouth to allow for verbal communication
About five seconds ago, my friend asked how I like my new apartment. Pretty normal question. Unfortunately, a half-second before that, I took an ambitious — dare I say, brave — bite of my sandwich… completely unaware, at the initial moment of biting, that this direct question would be coming my way. I’m actually happy to answer the question: my new apartment is a significant upgrade from before, and living with my girlfriend has been really wonderful so far. Incidentally, I’ve also switched to an electric toothbrush, so life is pretty good. But I can’t say any of that right now because this chicken salad is shockingly dense. This one bite will end up taking significant time to swallow, and my friend, the question asker, is clearly waiting for a response. “Just hang tight,” I wordlessly communicate via hand gesture and facial expression (pictured above). Crisis averted?
Bluck like no one’s watching…
Wait, blucking?? I don’t get it… Can you explain?
August 17th, 2013
Blake & Matt
gornoggs [gohr-nogs], n – a gastrointestinal phenomenon wherein one’s bowel movement feels incomplete, as though there is still a substantial amount of feces remaining somewhere inside the dark recesses of one’s colon
I really hate when this happens. There’s something truly unsettling about dedicating time to defecation, only to feel like you’ve only partially gotten the job done, like only 70-75% of the total turd volume came out. It’s especially gross because, now, that extra feces is going to fester and rot inside me for days, potentially. Ewww, right? It also makes me feel bad about the caliber of my intestines, like I’ve got dumb, losery bowels. I mean, what kind of man can’t even push out all his doodie in one go, nahmsayin? In an ideal world, I’d get all of it out in one sitting… or, rather, one SHITTING. Get it?!? You see, it’s funny because of a pun involving the words ‘sitting’ and ‘shitting.’ I’m the best.
I had gornoggs this morning, and I’m not particularly happy about it.
Wait, gornoggs?? I don’t get it… Can you explain?
Special Thanks To Natalie Boss for naming this disgusting phenomenon, following ample personal experience with it.
November 19th, 2012
Blake & Matt
druddle [druhd-l], n, v – obligatory applause; to participate in such applause
“Bravo, bravo!” sincerely thought, I don’t know, maybe like ONE person in the entire audience at the end of yet another boring speech from some random alumnus during your sister’s college graduation ceremony. Yet everyone in the room is clapping at a fairly high volume, mostly to be polite to the speaker. For me, like 98% to be polite… and 2% because clapping is kinda fun and oddly cathartic. Don’t act like you don’t know what I’m talking about. It’s such a raw, primal, borderline ridiculous way to demonstrate appreciation for something, but hey, it is what it is. Sometimes, the applause is a bit delayed because everyone needs to collectively decide (via telepathy or possibly just looking around at one another) to award the speaker with a round of applause once the speech is over. That decision takes a few seconds to completely register, as opposed to an airplane, where we customarily applaud immediately upon landing at the destination airport, practically without even thinking, as if to say, “YEAH! We’re still alive! Thanks for not killing us, professional airplane flyer!” It makes me feel silly, but I do it automatically like a big dumb dummy. Whatever, at least it’s better than being stuck with this decision…
After a very tense four-to-five-second lull following his student council campaign speech, 8th grader Brucey Fredericks was relieved to finally hear the gradual emergence of reasonably loud druddle. Dead silence is never a good sign in that context, so druddling was welcome.
Wait, druddle?? I don’t get it… Can you explain?
Special Thanks To Missy Gottlieb and Adam Fockler for being the druddle spokesmodels.
October 19th, 2012
Blake & Matt
Snorge [snohrj], n – a condition wherein one’s underwear is sticking directly to his/her actual butt-cheek itself, rather than being stuck inside the butt-crack like a wedgie
This is the type of thing that happens on a sweaty day, know what I mean? You’ve been sitting down for an hour or so, watching The Real Housewives of Wherever-The-Fuck, and when you stand up, a large patch of your undies is sticking to practically your entire buttock. The butt-sweat acts as a mild adhesive, temporarily keeping the fabric from your underpants stuck against the contour of your tooshie. No big deal; it happens. Except, contrary to a wedgie, a snorge is quite difficult to fix hands-free. One cannot simply do a few lunges in order to separate butt-cheek from undergarment. One must actually peel off the fabric manually, which some people find embarrassing to do in public. Main takeaway point – wear thongs, always.
During the final presidential debate, Senator Ralphie Mungtipper had a major snorge the entire time, yet still managed to keep a straight face, so he considered himself to be the winner.
Wait, snorge?? I don’t get it… Can you explain?
October 10th, 2012
Blake & Matt
kolsh [kohl-sh], n – the small amount of liquid remaining in a cup that is nearly impossible to suck up through a straw.
My lung suction is top notch, yet every time I try to draw this last bit of fluid up the straw, it seems to reappear as soon as my suction stops. There must be some principle of physics at play here that I’m not privy to. Maybe we should get a physicist to opine on this one. If we miraculously have any physicists that read our blog, please chime in below. If you are not a physicist, also feel free to comment, but we probably will not put too much weight in your response.
Not wanting to be wasteful, Harrison grabbed a piece of sourdough bread, used it to sop up the kolsh, and then ate the soggy and somewhat fizzy piece of sourdough soaked in RC cola.
Wait, kolsh?? I don’t get it… Can you explain?
September 19th, 2012
Blake & Matt
crunga [kruhn-guh], n – the phenomenon wherein one’s big toe pokes completely through one’s sock
In my not-far-from-thirty years on this planet, personally, I’ve never seen a woman experience this. Either they’ve got less aggressive toenails than men, or they just generally take much better care of themselves, i.e. purchasing new socks every once in a while. It’s gotta be the latter, right? Even in the unlikely event that a lady’s toe did penetrate the soft, velvety cotton of her socks, she’d probably have the common sense to change those socks immediately. Because, come on, this dude looks ridiculous and flat-out sloppy. Time to throw those away, buddy. I know they’re your favorite argyle socks, which are soooooooo in right now, but have some self-respect. Plus, your toe has got to be freezing. Look at it, all unprotected and exposed, falling victim to whatever elements are present in the environment…
Fritz was delighted to find that his lovely and caring fiancé, Wanda, had replaced his old, nasty, haggard socks (which had become that way due to crunga, specifically).
Wait, crunga?? I don’t get it… Can you explain?
September 12th, 2012
Blake & Matt
Dovlin [dov-lin], n – a word that can be used in different contexts, but really only makes you think of one specific use of the word
“We have to neuter the uprising before it gets too powerful.” I actually read that sentence. The author had me going and I was on the edge of my seat, engrossed in the story, and all of a sudden, he felt the urge to kill the momentum and implant in my mind a visual of dog’s undercarriage. A good ole’ fashioned unsnipped dog, waiting for his impending fate. Great choice of words. Crush would have worked too, ya know? We have to crush the uprising. Done. Same message transferred, sans dog genitalia.
While Rick was present in the room, his aunt told all her friends that she got a Brazilian, and due to her unfortunate use of a dovlin, Rick thought about his aunt with a Brazilian bikini wax, instead of the Brazilian keratin treatment she actually did get to straighten the hair on her head.
Wait, dovlin?? I don’t get it… Can you explain?
Special Thanks To Blake Furman and his choice of words.
September 5th, 2012
Blake & Matt
sloygrin [sloi-grin] – a forced and/or questionable acronym
Sloygrins come in various forms, the most common of which include unintentional dirty words (see above) and obviously forced, borderline desperate arrangements of words specifically chosen to create the illusion of a legitimate acronym when an acronym isn’t really necessary, like so: Organization of Asian American Sisters in Service (OAASIS). (My sincerest apologies to the lovely, vibrant, attractive ladies of OAASIS.) Don’t get me wrong… I can get into a perfectly appropriate acronym, like Washington Heights Immersion Program (WHIP), or even a charmingly silly acronym, like P&S Outdoor Orientation Program (P-SOOP). But generally, let’s try to be sparing with our use of this literary device, okay society?
Humphrey’s business partner, Guillermo, had to veto the very obvious sloygrin that he had come up with for their shrimping business – Guillermo and Humphrey’s Outstanding Shrimp Trappers – Particularly for the Eastern and Northern United States (GHOST-PENUS).
Wait, sloygrin?? I don’t get it… Can you explain?
August 29th, 2012
Blake & Matt
scanter [skan-ter], n, v – a lean in unison that is most often present in group photos taken while sitting at a table
Arrite, everyone lean towards the center! This is not the time for proper posture. Don’t be afraid to get a little intimate. Place your hand on the shoulder of the person next to you and show that you care. Go ahead, gingerly place your hand on his or her shoulder. That’s right. Now smile.
No one else wanted little Demarco in the picture, so when the photogapher told Demarco that his scanter bought him into the field of view, he was in fact was a good few inches below the lower border.
Wait, scanter?? I don’t get it… Can you explain?
August 22nd, 2012
Blake & Matt
cludge [cluhj], n – umbrella traffic
When it rains and I’m on a crowded street, I constantly have to raise and lower my umbrella to account for the variable heights of other people and their respective umbrellas as they pass by on the sidewalk. The worst is when one of the little metal points on the outer edges of the umbrella gets caught on someone or something, because I always get spun around like a damn idiot. Why is this umbrella the boss of me? I know it protects my tender, delicate hair from the elements, but are the elements really gonna make me that much less handsome when I arrive at my destination than I was when I left home?
Gerard noticed that it was raining outside but still opted to leave his umbrella at home in order to avoid the annoying-ass cludge that was certain to be present in Times Square during mating season.
Wait, cludge?? I don’t get it… Can you explain?
August 15th, 2012
Blake & Matt
soprista [suh-priss-tuh], n, – the day after tomorrow
“So this dinner is tomorrow? Oh ok, I thought you scheduled it for soprista. My mistake.” Do you see how easy and natural that was? Now compare that to, “Oh ok, I thought you scheduled it for the day after tomorrow.” That sounds stupid and wordy and verbose. Soprista is tight and effortless and even sounds a bit edgy. And it’s not, “We’re doing it ON soprista,” because that’d just be silly. Just like we don’t say “on tomorrow”, we don’t say “on soprista”. Just say “We’re doing it soprista” and people will understand. You follow?
Lyle wanted Chinese for dinner today, while Kim wanted to have it soprista, so the two agreed to do it tomorrow and then had animalistic sex.
Wait, soprista?? I don’t get it… Can you explain?
Special Thanks To Buzz Bambrook for finally getting fed up with saying “day after tomorrow”.
August 8th, 2012
Blake & Matt
febseck [feb-sek], n – a distinct name that sounds a lot like yours, which people often confuse for your actual name upon meeting you for the first time
“Matt. Pleased to meet you,” says Matt, after being asked his name. “Ben?” she replies, to which Matt quickly responds, “No… Matt.” She thinks she’s got it and matter-of-factly confirms, “Ben.” Matt sighs in quiet exasperation before finally just giving up, “Yes… Ben.” I guess my name is Ben now. Sorry, mom and dad. I know you put a lot of thought into the birth name you chose for me, but it’s loud as hell in here, so the person I’m meeting has no choice but to read my lips, which apparently appear to be saying “Ben.” She has firmly decided on Ben and doesn’t seem to be moving on the issue. The mouth movements required to say “Matt” and “Ben” must be very similar. I wonder if this happens to other Matts too. It’s gotta happen to Brians and Ryans a lot. Shawns and Johns likely experience the same drama, in both directions. In my experience, the only name that people confuse for mine is Ben, and women make this booboo significantly more often than men do… although that might just be because I consciously introduce myself to many more female strangers than male strangers in loud places, which skews the statistics. So at the end of the day, it’s the public who suffers, really.
In the 1940s, Kevin’s grandmother, Mary Katherine, had a six-hour conversation on an airplane with a handsome, young actor, who she, due to her impaired hearing, knew only by his febseck, Gary Grant.
Wait, febseck?? I don’t get it… Can you explain?
August 1st, 2012
Blake & Matt
daybil [dey-bil], n – a random piece of information you seek, which has no actual bearing on your life
Do I really need to know how much Macaulay Culkin weighed at childbirth? No, but I have an unlimited data plan so why the hell not. People must have been significantly less intelligent before the advent of smart phones and/or the internet because I doubt anyone amid a highly thought provoking Home Alone conversation would subsequently go to the library for some good ole fashioned meat n’ potatoes research. They would just continue on their merry way, not knowing if he was an average sized baby or if perhaps he was a bit thick-bodied. Sucks for them, if they ever made it on Jeopardy and the topic was birth-weights of 1990’s child actors.
Little Carissa Merlsen and her father were arguing over which soap company was the first to debut with foaming hand soap for the home, when Carissa’s sister, who is not the daughter of Carissa’s father, came into the room with a communal bowl of yogurt raisins, thereby diverting Carissa and her father’s attention away from the daybil.
Wait, daybil?? I don’t get it… Can you explain?
Special Thanks To Blake Furman for having a strong urge to understand the difference between England and Great Britain.
July 25th, 2012
Blake & Matt
inchable [in-chob-ley], n – an accidental high-five to fist-pound mismatch
In a sense, inchable is really more a passive circumstance of everyday life than a thing of its own, per se. For instance, the photo above captures these two warm-blooded individuals with their modestly sensual hands currently in a state of inchable. But it’s not like, “Oh man, did you just see those two idiots commit inchable?” or even “Check out my creepy uncle as he moseys his way through this wedding reception. He’s already formed an inchable with 6 different people due to his total lack of social grace.” It’s more like this – “Hey dad, look at those two people over there attempting to make a celebratory gesture with their hands but failing… inchable!” It’s the kind of thing you declare as the defining, labeling quality of a particular situation, as opposed to being a concrete object or thing itself. Kinda like “Checkmate!” or “Yahtzee!” or something. Probably more like “Yahtzee!” now that I think about it, cuz the establishment of inchable should be announced with that same vigor and excitement. This is some exciting shit, alright? We’re talking about inchable here.
Upon initially encountering one another at the 8th grade school dance, Thurgood and Ron attempted a super-cool, hand-related greeting… ya know, to impress the ladies. Unfortunately, inchable ensued due to Ron’s game time nerves making him forget their pre-planned and choreographed fist-pound strategy.
Wait, inchable?? I don’t get it… Can you explain?
Special Thanks To Rebecca Pearlmother for instantaneously coming up with the name ‘inchable,’ like a word-naming ladyninja.
July 18th, 2012
Blake & Matt
tallast [tal-uhst], n – gusts of air conditioning felt while passing a store with open doors
I don’t think any store on the planet is cooled as sufficiently as this particular Bloomingdale’s. I’ve never actually been inside, but every time I pass it on a hot summer day, my nipples get as hard as Chinese math. The only logical conclusion I can come to is that the first floor also doubles as a meat locker. A one-stop-shop for Dolce & Gabbana perfume and premium dry aged ribeye.
When Reggie stopped in front of the Carl’s Jr to enjoy the fresh, cool tallast that was escaping through the open doorway, a homeless Asian man asked him for a nickel.
Special Thanks To Becca Trager who frequently experiences the “Chinese Math Syndrome” referenced above.
Wait, tallast?? I don’t get it… Can you explain?