Dodo Eggs

I have a boss that has officially eliminated the word “problem” from his vocabulary.  Instead he has substituted the near-synonym “opportunity.”  (He fooled some of the new teachers but the old gears will still squeak.)  I’ve contacted twelve of the leading wordsmiths at the DodoEggs.com’s Manhattan headquarters and they all agree that these two words are not to be interchanged. 

One diplomatically replied, “You’re interrupting my game of Tetris and if you interrupt me again I’m giving you a five fingered opportunity sandwich.”

Anther quipped, “I’ll have to think twice the next time opportunity knocks.”

Personally, I don’t have a problem at all with retooling my use of the English language.  In the face of English’s constantly growing lexicon, I’ve decided to reverse the tide.  Mayonnaise, cottage cheese, and sour cream have been completely eradicated from my vocabulary and replaced them with the handy phrase, “white yuck.”

Switching gears a bit…

Tom and I were throwing the football on a cool fall day.  There was a breeze and a sun three inches above the horizon.  The ball flew threw the air like a well-thrown dart and if one of us missed the catch the sunlight was blamed.  The park grass had just recently been mowed and before long our socks were flecked with bits of cut grass.

That was before calamity’s hammer struck where it hurt.

In order to keep our game interesting, our catches became more and more theatric.  We started catching the footballs with ever escalating style and machismo.  Then the ball slipped through my hands and struck me in the groin.  I immediately sat down on the grass and waited for the ache to subside.

“What’s wrong?  I didn’t see you catch the ball.”  Tom said as he ran up to me.

“Well,” I groaned.  “The ball kind of hit me in my gazangas.”

Tom offered a mocking grin.  “Your what?”

“I said my ham hocks, ok?  You know what I mean.”

“Not really.  I don’t think gazangas is in the dictionary and ham hocks is defiantly not something you’d find the your anatomy book.  If you have ham hocks, maybe you should see a doctor.”

“Tom?”  The discomfort was clear in my voice.  “You and I both know that under the circumstances you can plug any word real or made up in there and people would know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, I understand now.  You’re talking about your secret agents, your ying-yang, your mach two point two, your…hey!  Be careful!”

Tom jumped aside just as I threw the football toward his two-point conversion.

• Good Egg & Bad Egg #7
• Drowning in Dumbknuckles
• A New Game
• The Second Ultimate Post
• Mr. Big