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debeautify - To make -- uglier -- it's torture to people who are really self-centered.

e.g., The only way to make her talk was to threaten to debeautify her.

submitted by snowboardinghockeyplayer3 - (www)

debocracy - The preferred choice of government applied in my classroom. A slightly flawed combination of democracy and momacracy.

e.g., "Mrs. T., that's not fair. I should be able to leave the lids off all the glue sticks. "Sorry, Buddy, but that's the rule. This is a debocracy, you know."

submitted by D.S. Tuxhorn

deboed - To take with authority.

e.g., Jonathan just deboed Jason's watch.

submitted by Robby

debrett - Expurgate, bowdlerize, prettify. . . . To remove material that offends Victorian sensibilities -- or replace it with something that not even Little Goody Two-Shoes would find offensive.

e.g., Once in a while a potential submitter gets upset when her submittal gets debretted. Thank God none of the looneys know where we live.

submitted by HD Fowler

debrief - To take off someone's underpants.

e.g., "So whaddaya gonna do once you get her in the conference room, Bobby? Ya' gonna debrief her, interrogate her, interview her, question her, or somethin' else?" "Debriefing sounds like it would be the most fun."

submitted by HD Fowler

debt with dignity - No longer will you be harassed with threatening letters or troubling phone calls. Relax, for the time being.

e.g., But eventually you will suddenly be whisked off to Mars, the new debtor's prison -- all very discreet. It's debt with dignity.

submitted by Paul Edic - (www)

debtionary - The location for words I've invented . . . complete and unabridged.

e.g., "Mrs. T., 'confoodled' isn't in the dictionary." "You're right. It's in the debtionary right next to 'debocracy.'"

submitted by D.S. Tuxhorn

debtitor - A person, employee, or manager who twists around the amount of money her company owes.

e.g., Enron's president is the world's biggest debtitor right now.

submitted by PPM - (www)

debubbletize - To pop all the air bubbles in your bubble wrap.

e.g., I can no longer enjoy this peice of bubble wrap--it's already been debubbletized.

submitted by Jessie

debuno - (deb-ew-no) (verb) To go or act crazy. (Noun) an insane or crazy person.

e.g., Mrs. B went debuno on the class when she saw kids throwing books out the window. | Ever since kids threw books out the window Mrs. B became a debuno.

submitted by Miss McCann

debutart - Debutante + tart, "a debutante of easy morals." Celebutantes, celebutards, celebutardts, celebutarts, debutards, debutardts, and debutarts all share that common characteristic.    Far from being a neologism, this slang for "a woman of easy morals" has been around at least since the 1940s. I don't remember what I was doing,(See here.) but I happened across it in the "monumental American Thesaurus of Slang by Lester V. Berrey and Melvin Van Bark (Thomas Y. Crowell, 1952), which covers everything" (Paul Dickson, Slang, 1988).    H. W. JONES BERRY, LESTER V., and VAN DEN BARK, MELVIN. The American Thesaurus of Slang. 1,174 pp. Thomas Y. Crowell Company, New York, 1942. $5.00.    Here is a complete reference work of modern slang and colloquial speech. It follows the same plan of Roget's International Thesaurus, that is, words which are grouped under ideas, with the addition of a complete index. The book has been in the process of production for ten years and has no counterpart except Roget. The reader is amazed at the completeness and minuteness of detail which he encounters and the authors may be said to have filled the last gap in the study of American slang. With Roget's and Mencken's classics, and now with this splendid contribution, we may well say that the American language is covered. In the opinion of the reviewer this volume is indispensable in the armamentarium of the modern librarian. Among the ~200 entries at 439. Woman of easy morals were these previously unknown to me designations for a woman of easy virtue: demi-rep, faloosie (The unusual spelling is what's new to me.), fizgig, fluzie (sp), frail flossie, gay1 wench, gay woman, gill, hard-boiled baby, huzzie (sp.), jane, Kate, pashy petter, sack, scrunch, slack-puller, speed-dame, speedster, swift baby, touchable, tough baby, traipsing twerp, wild party, wised-up babe, zipper-moraled Susie, Madamoizook (the French variety). 1 How many people these days are familiar with a dated meaning of gay, still being used in the 1940s, when The American Thesaurus of Slang (TATS) was published? "debauched: leading a debauched or dissolute life." My own copy of TATS came through an estate sale. It might not be an overstatement to call the worn copy in my hands a word lover's treasure, annotated as it is by the book's previous owner. Judging from the address embossed on the first blank page at the front of the book, I have to think "estate" is the right word. "Mr. Brown" lived in Tulsa Oklahoma's longest-established high-rent district. He's the only person I've ever seen who writes smaller than I do. I'll have to locate a magnifying glass to read his notes, especially his cross-references. I'll miss too many goodies otherwise.    I'm going to check online bookstores to see if I can find copies for sale -- and hope I can afford them. (Whatever copies were going for when I first wrote this, about the cheapest I can find now is $70.00 -- and at least one is offered for ~$350.00. That's too much for my pocketbook. [And now, two years later, this: " We're sorry, the book can not be found in any store.") I'd like to send copies to my grandkids for Christmas. Strangely enough, I think all except the youngest (a four-year-old) would be quite pleased. (Hmmm, strange that I should think that or strange that they might well like an old slang thesaurus as a gift?) Brown seems to have had an abiding interest not only in oil field slang, but also in the slang used to describe the "naughty parts" of the body . . . as well as the associated bodily fluids and functions. In addition, he made several notes for drunkenness, my favorite being "drunker than a waltzing piss-ant" -- the waltzing part being what is new to me. TATS itself has three full pages for drunk and dead drunk. Do you still wonder what someone has in mind when she says "I like pie" or "Pie is good?" Uni-poster lulupie asked us about that oncet upon a time. Finding "pie, piece, and piece of tail" in a single character string in TATS removes any lingering doubt for me. (To be truthful -- always the best policy -- there never was any doubt for me.) So, I'll now give a definite answer to lulupie: Yes, my dear, "I like pie" and "Pie is good" do have a sexual meaning. . . . Having come across this entry while doing some clean-up, I re-googled and found a review of TATS, from "Monday, Mar. 02, 1942." The style of the date is antiquarian, and so is some of the language in the review. Time Magazine | U.S. Slang | Monday, Mar. 02, 1942 THE AMERICAN THESAURUS OF SLANG-Lester V. Berrey and Melvin Van den Bark - Crowell ($5). Lester V. Berrey has been at work on this absorbing, 1,174-page thesaurus since 1931. He got special checking help from such experts as Bing Crosby (on music), Variety's Jack Edward (entertainment slang), John A. Leslie of Ohio State Prison on the language of tramps and the underworld. His collaborator, Nebraskan Philologist Melvin Van den Bark, worked out the main outlines of classification and groupings of words. In general these follow Roget but they culminate in 430 highly readable pages on "Special Slang" of various trades, sports and regions. That section alone will probably help more third-rate novelists look like second-raters than any previous book in history. Everything, it seems at first, is in this book; such ghoulish, semi-slang tintypes as "God's image cut in ebony" (for Negro); such beautifully graphic trade terms as the miner's "snow" (for the sifting of earth presaging a cave-in), the ballplayer's "floater" (for a slow ball), the prostitute's "pivot" (for solicitation from a window). Practically all the unmailable words turn up, along with a tremendous set of their variants and embellishments. So does the surrealist language of drug addicts, the high-heeled dialect of perverts, the likable archaisms of lumberjacks (they still say "whitewater bucko"), and the shoptalk of the stock exchange and of the turf, which significantly share such terms as "sleeper," "tip sheet" and "past performance." A complete job on U.S. slang is beyond human compass. "God-box" is given for Church but not for organ. "Profile" is curiously absent from journalistic slang. The Hollywood section fails to include "ootchimagootchi" (hot talk as an obbligato to Latin lovemaking), though it does give "wrinkle" (an actress' mother). There are many other omissions; but on the whole, for every ten words any reader will miss, he will recognize a thousand and learn at least fifty. Thanks to the form of the book, even the mildest categories read like nothing since Rabelais: "Interj. 10. CEASE!; STOP! Avast! belay that or there!, bottle it!, break it off!, can it!, cheese it!, cheezit!, chuck it!, come off (of it)!, come off the grass!, curl up!, cut it (out) !, douse it!, dowse it!, drop it!, enuff!, fade away!, freeze!, hold on!, hold up!, kill it!, lay off!, leave off!, let up!, nix!, nix on that!, ring off!, sign off!, siphon off!, sound off!, stow it!, turn it off!, whoa Bill!, whoa Maud!, whoa Mud!, whoa there!" Or. in another dialect (the newspaperman's) : 30. While I continue to marvel at the completeness of the thesaurus with its more than 100,000 slang words, the review reminds us how daunting it is to come up with more than a snapshot of the slang of any given moment. You might as well try to catch a bird in flight with your bare hands. . . . Wait, that's something I've done more than once. Hummingbirds only. With the aid of a window in a stairwell, I held three hummingbirds in my hands in the space of about two minutes. They're even tinier than you might think -- what you see is mostly feathers.

e.g., There were only a few internet references to Paris Hilton as a debutart. The designation is obvious enough and may fit her even better than celebutard or celebutart, given that it was a pornographic video that brought her her notoriety -- and turned the celebutart into a celebrity. Would it be fair to call Paris Hilton a bimbo? I don't know. Is she stupid?    David West Brown | University of Michigan In 1939, Walter Winchell coined celebutante in recognition ofyoung Brenda Frazier's status and fame. More recently, celebu-has detached and become a productive combining form. Part ofthat productivity can be ascribed to its felicitous phonologicalproperties. Many celebu- coinages, however, appear in blogs.Thus, the productivity of celebu- results from the specificregister conditions of blogs. The specific case of celebu- revealsmuch about these conditions — the need for semantic economy,the saliency of humor, the function of nominalization, as wellas the role of critique and sometimes cruelty. Additionally, celebu- coinages illustrate how blogs have emerged as sitesof linguistic innovation.

submitted by HD Fowler - (www)

debutaunt - Verbally disparaging a parent's sister who is making her first public performance. (This "invention" was quite satisfying -- a three level meaning in one word!)

e.g., Although she was a pretty good singer, we just couldn't help but debutaunt.

submitted by Charlie Lesko

debute - A combination of debate and dispute together.

e.g., While in a deep discussion with a friend I yelled,"That's it, I'm not going to debute this with you anymore!" We laughed and that's how it came to be.

submitted by Tiffany

decadance - A process, condition, or period of deterioration or decline in moral standards whilst boogying, shimmying, and doing the shuffle on the dance floor.

e.g., Youngsters today are full of decadance. Not like when I was their age. Oh, no.

submitted by jonty Reason - (www)

decaf - Relax, chill out.

e.g., Decaf, Willie. I shipped the parcels yesterday morning. They should be there this afternoon.

submitted by Paul d'Aoust

decafalon - The grueling event of getting through the day consuming only things that are good for you. (Washington Post Style Invitational.)

e.g., I'm worn out from all the decafalons I've been in this month. I want a jelly donut.

submitted by HD Fowler

decakilonym - The name for the ten-thousandth element in any list.

e.g., My word was selected as the decakilonym.

submitted by Stephen Mize

decap - To remove the capitalization of a proper name, usually a product, indicating that it's ubiquitous.

e.g., Watch as I decap the internet and world wide web. There, I did it.

submitted by i_monk

decapacitate - An act of violence intended to remove the subject from a situation. A step beyond "incapacitate."

e.g., I swear, if you don't shut up, I'm gonna decapacitate you.

submitted by Puck

decapacitated - Incapable of action due to lack of a functioning head.

e.g., As the evening wore on, Chris became decapacitated as usual. Too much to drink..

submitted by Susan

decar - To get out of a car. Similar to "deplane," an existing word.

e.g., We have stopped, so you may now decar. (ED. Would you please get out of decar?)

submitted by Mike C

deceipt - (Pronounced dee-SEET; n.) A padded or falsified bill, price tag, or reimbusement request.

e.g., "A $300 lunch meeting?!" "There were a lot of people." "At least five, I hope: otherwise, this is a deceipt. . . . What did you eat?"

submitted by Scott M. Ellsworth

deceivening - The most dishonest time of day.

e.g., When are people most likely to lie? Deceivening.

submitted by Mitchel Yerzy - (www)

deceivious - Both deceitful and devious.

e.g., I didn't trust him after seeing his deceivious smile.

submitted by nellie

december - When you decide to remember something.

e.g., I repeated her name to myself 100 times, to make sure I decembered her name.

submitted by Mitchel Yerzy - (www)

december 11, 2015+ - "Go have some Ben and Jerry's and get a pedicure. You'll feel better." Saw that as putdown on an Internet comment thread several months or years ago and saved it as a possible tagline or signature for myself. When I was talking to my friend Travis a couple of days ago, he told me he has been getting foot massages and pedicures for years. No, not a fetish -- not as far as I know. His wife had Amyotropic Lateral Sclerosis and he had a nurse come in every six weeks or so to give her pedicures and foot massages. He must have thought it looked like a good deal, so he started getting them himself. For years I took Melba to a podiatrist to get her toenails clipped, but no toenail polish -- a no-no for anyone with diabetic neuropathy. When I took her to the beauty shop to get her hair done, sometimes I'd have them give her manicures and pedicures since she was no longer able to do them herself. I considered doing fer feet myself, but thought better of the idea -- figuring she might end up in more pain than she was already in. I'm going to suggest the subject as an e-mail signature for Travis. (... Done, by voicemail. Better than to forget to send him an e-mail.) I thought of sending Travis a copy of this, but I'm going to mention a hole in our care system for the elderly that he doesn't know I discovered a couple of weeks ago. The last time I talked to Jim was on July 26, 2015, according to my cell phone record. Next time I called, I ran into a telephone company message his telephone number had been change and that no new number was available. Sounded reasonable that he would change his phone number, because he told me in our last conversationi that he had been getting annoying telephone calls from someone trying to get him to make an investment -- with all the signs of it being a scam. I said, "Next time you get a call, tell the guy you're very interested in putting in some money, but that you can't talk right now. Ask him to give you a call-back number for later. Then give the number to me and I'll get them off your back. I may string them along for a while until I get bored, but I'll eventually make them sorry they ever wasted their time with you." I figured if I was wasting their time, then they'd have less time to catch some fish. Next time I called Jim, I couldn't reach him. My guess was that he had decided to solve his annoying-phone-call problem himself. I figured he would give me a call soon and tell me what his new telephone number was. He never called. Up until recently, I've checked with his brother Bob once in a while to see if Jim ever called and gave him a new number. All Bob has heard from Jim since last July came in a September "note" that didn't include a new telephone number. Since Jim lives only about a half-hour from Scott, I dropped by his apartment before coming to Scott's. Brogan and Scott were still at work when I got to the KC area. Had time enough to get over to Lawrence, see Jim, and get his new telephone number. ... And also pull a joke on him. Knocked on his apartment door. It wasn't unexpected, but he came to the door naked. it was obvious that he had been sitting around naked until he heard my knock. I was well aware of that eccentricity. When I called the apartment manager one time when I couldn't reach him for several days, I asked her to check on him. I gave her a heads-up: "He doesn't wear any clothes when he's in his apartment by himself." She said, "We know." A couple of years ago he got charged with indecent exposure and had been given a court date to appear. He thought he could blow it off because "there's a relaxed attitude about nudity in Europe" where he had been stationed for several or many years. "Jim, you're not in Europe. You're in the middle of the Bible Belt in Kansas -- where the attitude about indecent exposure is anything but relaxed. No one wants to see your old man's junk." I located a lawyer for him, then called Bob and told him what the situation was -- that it was essential that Jim get lawyered up. Bob mad sure he did and the charges were dropped. Bob asked me not to mention it to anyone -- meaning anyone in Searcy County -- and I never have. Another time, Deanna (my sister) was on the phone talking to him. He set the phone down to do something and never came back. Deanna called me, frantic. She thought he must have had a heart attack. I told her I'd take care of it for her. After not being able to get through myself, I called the Lawrence police and asked them to check on his well-being. Nothing else to do in the middle of the night. Later, Jim called me -- mad at me -- and asked me if I was the one who had called the police on him. I said, "Jim, your carcass isn't going to go to rot on my watch." He said, "just a minute, I need to put some clothes on." It was obvious that he didn't recognize me. When he came back to the door, he had thrown on some overalls. Still barefooted, the first thing I noticed was how filthy his feet were. Then I noticed that his carpet and a big, dark brown ring on it, more or less an oval about two feet wid and three feet long. It looked as if he had let in his dog when it had muddy feet and let it run around. Since he didn't know me, I passed myself off as a delivery man -- with what I was delivering being a six-pack of enemas. Short story: he figured out right away that the enemas must have been sent as a gag either by his brother -- or by his friend Mike, confirming that he didn't know who I was. "Bob's always telling me I'm full of shit," he said. I asked him about his friend "Mike." He said Mike's a really smart guy, but he doesn't have any common sense. Then he said. "Mike's a social misfit." (Pot calling kettle black.) When I asked him for his telephone number., he wondered why I wanted it. I said something along the lines of calling back to see if the delivery service had been adequate. He went over to his dead computer and read from a note: 785-749-1933. That's the number I've been calling him on since 2004. He said his telephone wasn't working, but that he was having someone come out "tomorrow" to fix it. Don't remember what pretext (a pretext, but not a lie) I used for calling Bob -- but might have "lied to him" about why I had Bob's number. I called Bob and talked to him briefly. I let Bob know that Jim was in need of help and then put Jim on the line. The two of them talked for a while. There would have been no reason for Bob to realize anything was wrong if I hadn't told him. Bob wanted to talk to me again, but I begged off. (I had other things on my mind: car problems and needing to get over to Scott's.) I knew I'd be able to call Bob within a few minutes. Then I took my leave, intending to drive to Westwood, KS, to Brogan & Scott's. No go. My transmission completely went out on me. I had to get my car towed to a transmission repair shop. ~$2300 to have the transmission rebuilt -- plus enough other work (brake pads, regrinding, etc.) to bring my total bill to $2692.48. That just solidifies my determination to get the body work done and keep the car until I go to my grave. Gave me impetus to called the woman who caused the accident a second time. I got her voicemail and left a second message, mostly repeating what I had said before. I had called her in February to ask her to go to the sheriff's office with me to meet with the deputy sheriff who wrote the accident report to get it corrected. She didn't return that call. I thought it was worth one more shot to try to get her to do the right thing. I told her my latest "investment" made me even more determined than I had been before to seek justice. I told her I would definitely pursue a case in small claims court if she didn't do what she should: the right thing, admit that the wreck was 100% her fault because she made an illegal turn from the middle lane right in front of me. I had two legal choices of what to do: either go straight ahead or turn left. I slammed on my brakes when I saw her but couldn't stop before we collided. I never left the lane I was in. I told her I might well end up paying a couple hundred dollars for nothing more than the satisfaction of putting her in a position where she either told the truth or committed perjury. Doing that would be a felony, given that a lie under oath would be consequential to the tune of ~$4,000 to $6,000. Estimates to repair my car have ranged from $3,900+ to $4,400+. She (Amy Elliott) has submitted a claim for $2,000 on her truck. ~$200 to replace the tire (the only point of contact between our vehicles) and alleged damage of $1,800 to the rocker panel. Charlie, when her husband was at the scene of the accident, I said, "Well, at least no damage was done to the truck." He said that the rear axle might have been damaged -- but it was plain to see that no other damage was done. White paint from my car was left on the tire, and "shavings" from the tire and a black streak ended up on my bumper. (Can't remember if I've told you before what happened, so I may be repeating myself. Nothing will change -- because if I have described what happened, I'll be saying the same thing again -- the truth. (Since I can't find "December 11" in any e-mails, I must never have told you.0 I bought in to her telling me we were blocking three lanes of traffic and that we should unblock two lanes by moving out of the way. I fell for it -- and didn't think to take pictures beforehand. I'm convinced that her husband told her to do that when she called him -- to make it look as if the accident was at least partially my fault. We told the deputy sheriff when she arrived that we had moved our vehicles to keep from blocking so many lanes of traffic. If the deputy sheriff had done what she should have done before having us move to a nearby movie theater parking lot, she would have noted where the debris from the accident was in the the road -- the northernmost lane going east, and mostly in the far side of the middle lane going north. The debris could have been left there only if the woman made a left turn from the middle lane. I am absolutely convinced that she lied and told the deputy sheriff that she had turned from the leftmost lane, and not from the middle lane. That would have her admitting that she was turning into the wrong lane, but not from the middle lane -- the illegal left turn she in actuality made. When we got to the parking lot, I fiddled around for a couple of minutes taking a new pair of sunglasses I had just bought at Costco out of the packaging. The bright sun had bothered my eyes after I got out of my car at the scene of the accident and didn't want a repeat. By the time I got to the deputy sheriff with my driver's license and insurance card, the woman had had time to tell her version of what had happened. All the DS did was take my information and go over to her car -- presumably first checking for warrants. After a couple of minutes, I walked over. She looked up and in a not friendly voice said, "What do you want?" I said, "I want to make sure you're noting that the cause of the accident was her making an illegal left turn from the middle lane." She then snapped at me, "I know how to do my job." Unfortunately, I backed off rather than say, "Why don't you talk to both of us at the same time and hear what we each have to say." ... Anyway, she wrote up a report that said I was 50% responsible for the accident -- claiming I had changed lanes at the intersection. I did no such thing. And I wasn't t0% responsible for the accident. I was 0% responsible. Last time I talked to State Farm I told who[m]ever I was talking to what I have written here. Not word for word, but close enough. I must have watched a Rocky movie a day or so before the December 11, ~12:45 pm, accident. I say that because I used the word absolutely at least twice when the insurance investigator(?) asked me questions. I was absolutely not at fault in any way, so it's maybe not so surprising that I used a word I rarely use. Blogged January 23, 2016. I think my negligence may be due at least in part to a fender bender I was in on December 11. A woman in the lane to my right made an illegal left turn right in front of me. Maybe a professional stunt driver could have avoided hitting the big (to me) truck , but I couldn't. One repair estimate is $3900+, the other $4400+. Either exceeds the value of the car. I'm bound and determined to keep my care, given that it's the last one Melba and I bought. I intend for it to be the last car I buy, too. How the sheriff's deputy managed to conclude that I had wandered out of my lane is beyond my ken. But maybe not. She didn't ask me anything about what happened, but the other driver talked to her quite a while as I was rummaging around in my car trying to find my insurance information. I walked over to the cop while she was writing her report. She asked what I needed and I said "I just want to make sure you're showing that the accident occurred after she made a left turn in front of me." She snapped at me, "I know how to do my job." I gots my doubts about that. I think maybe I'm at a disadvantage because I'm an old, white, man. Anyway, the upshot is that the other driver's insurance company (Travelers) says it will only pay half the cost of the repairs -- because the adjuster has concluded that I'm 50% responsible for the accident. (Or half what their appraiser says the car is worth: totalled -- for damage confined to about one cubic foot around the bumper and passenger side headlight. Farts for a twenty-year-old Cadillac Fleetwood are might expensive -- given the difficulty of finding salvaged parts.) I'm trying to get that changed, given that it's wrong. The only reason there was an accident is that the other driver turned left right in front of me, from a lane not marked to allow left turns. Getting anything changed will more than likely depend on the other driver telling the truth. Fat chance? Maybe. The insurance adjuster hasn't talked to her yet. When she called, the husband answered. He said his wife was making a left turn, but I'm sure he didn't say it was from the middle lane. Most other intersections in the vicinity are marked to allow such turns. He wasn't there until several minutes after the accident, by which time both of us had moved our vehicles to keep from blocking traffic. The woman suggested it -- and now I think I may have allowed myself to be manipulated. Possibly at her husband's behest. If it was a ruse, I fell for it. When we collided, the woman had to have been mostly or completely in the easternmost lane, going north by then --having turned north from going east -- from the middle of three lanes. There were also three lanes going north -- so that would have been an illegal turn even if the lane she was driving in had been marked to allow for either going straight or turning left. Northernmost curb lane going east to westernmost curb lane going north, and middle lane going east to middle lane going north -- provided the middle lane is marked to allow left turns. Southernmost curb lane can legally only go east at the intersection in question. Same for the middle lane. I was in the northernmost lane, going east -- and, given that there were no lane markings at all, could legally either turn left or go straight ahead. I went straight ahead -- until my right front bumper collided with the driver's side rear tire on the truck. The truck, as near as I could tell, was completely undamaged. Have some "black stuff" on the white molding at the front of my car -- a pretty good indication that the right front fender hit the tire, as I said. That would have been pretty hard to do if I had "wandered into the wrong lane" with both of us going east until she turned left, to the north. Anyway, I've been like a dog with a bone, fretting about it. I've asked the adjuster to call the woman to see if she will tell the truth about what happened. A little later this morning, I'll call the adjuster and remind her that the husband has already told her his wife was making a left turn. Given that the only lane from which a left turn can be made legally is the curb lane which I was in, I obviously couldn't have "wandered" into that lane and caused the accident that was reported. I'll also be going to a nearby sheriff's office to get a copy of the accident report. I've been once, but the office was closed. I've been sick since then and have no interest in going anywhere at all until the weather gets warmer. Far more than enough. A belated Merry Christmas and Happy New Year. Mike

e.g., Looked at the input queue for your entry -- not realizing that I'd get something much better, an emeal from the top banana, but second-billed member of the Machiavellean & Lesko vaudeville team. (Did I use that recently?) Don't know how to generat a pd link for my most recent blog entry, an unabridged version of of my most recent pd entry. (Don't know what character string the pd back-end generates as a link for The Wainwright Phenomenon | Machiavellean Speculation. Does the «string» show the special characters proberly on your monitor when you look at the pd entry? What I see is this: �Unabridged�. If others are seeing the special characters as trash, I may need to stop using them. So far I haven't found anything to make them display properly on my computer. Doesn't matter what browser I use, I see trash with all of them. Added a sentence to the exchange below: There's no one I'd rather share a brain with. Charlie, that ranks right up there with my saying about Scott, "If I had my life to live over, he's the man I'd want to be." Subject: Garret got the pd working again and I've added your new entries. Date: Sun, 10 Apr 2016 13:14:23 -0400 From: ab To: mikeweaver@entouch.net A real enjoyable update, my friend. It's apparent that you're determined to be "up and about" instead of sitting home alone. Good for you! I got a major chuckle from your Alamo Drafthouse theater story, and, yes, it did motivate a M&L moment. (And not my entry, but a "true" M&L). It's nothing earth shaking, but pertinent, I believe. Here it is: "pop" corn -- An ironic financial arrangement whereby adult children "treat" their father by purchasing his movie ticket and he pays for the snacks. However, the extensive and expensive modern movie fare means that Dad pays out several times the price of a ticket. i.e., Thanks, kids, and I don't mean to rue it,. you want to buy my ticket, and it's kind of you to do it, but I'm left broke and financially forlorn. when it costs me eighty dollars to buy the "pop" corn! Am finally out of the aging birthday doldrums and into bad weather depression. April has brought more snow and cold than we had all winter. It looks like the Canadians are getting even for our stronger dollar by shipping Artic air that keeps us indoors for weeks. However, with our part of the planet moving so much closer to the sun, the cold weather can't last. (Can't it?). Please keep up the engaging reports -- they make my day! Love from Anne and me, Charlie From: Mike To: Scott Cc: Charlie Sent: Sat, Apr 9, 2016 6:02 am Subject: Garret got the pd working again and I've added your new entries. Since some of them needed editing to add line-breaks and paragraphs, I've read them -- for a change. Your entry for "dimmercraft" clearly was sent in before you were finished with it. Still at Scott's and am having a good time. Don't know how long I'll be here. Went to a movie with Scott and Brogan a couple of days ago. When Brogan called from work to ask me if I'd like to go to a movie with them, I said yes, if you'll let me buy the tickets. She said she had already bought the tickets online, but that I could buy the popcorn. Turns out that "popcorn" at an Alamo Drafthouse movie theater is a lot more than pocorn and soda -- it can be alcoholic beverages and a meal if you go that route. We did. With a tip added to an $80+ tab, I went to my first $100 movie. A long way from the 12¢ (or less) movies I went to as an Arkansas hillbilly in the 1940s and 1950s. Gladly paid the tab to spend a couple of hours with them. Haven't mentioned it to Brogan or Scott, but next time they invite me to a movie, I may say, "Sure, I'll go with you. I'll buy the tickets; you buy the 'popcorn.'" ------------------------------------------- Sending a copy of this to Charlie, hoping to end up with either an SME entry or a Machiavellean & Lesko entry for popcorn. The way our vaudeville team has been working, Scott, is that I come up with a "word" and then Charlie does all the creative work. That's definitely the best way for us to work as a team. I'm happy to play second banana to him, especially since he insisted that I get top billing. There's no one I'd rather share a brain with. Charlie, I'm sitting here pounding my keyboard, wearing my Deposit t-shirt. I wear it more often than any of the ~200 "blouses" I have in my closets. Some go back thirty years and more, but I'm not ready to give them up. The Catskills Forestry Association knife you gave me? Have it here with me at Scott's. Yes, I use it more than any other knife I own. ------------------------------------------- Haven't figured out where I'll go for my "last long road trip" -- which I thought might be the one I'm on now until my transmission went kaput. Have several friends in the Denver area and family in Las Vegas, Phoenix, and Tuscon (I think) -- so my final excursion may well be to the West rather than to the South, North, or East. My nephew Kyle got cold feet and backed out of his October wedding in Florida, so I'm unlikely to ever go to Florida again. Just as well. The worst part of my trip back to Houston from Carlisle was driving on I-10 across southern Louisiana. Swamps on both sides of the road, and no way to get around the almost bumper-to-bumper traffic from just east of Baton Rouge to St. Charles. I figure that slowed me down about an hour on my long drive back from Carlisle. Will never -- and I guarantee you -- never drive 1500+ miles in one day again -- ~1530 miles in 23 hours 48 minutes. Paula (Melba's 14.5 years younger sister) and Ron want to meet up with me this summer in New Orleans, his home town. I'll probably go, but that's certainly not the time of the year to be going to New Orleans. Time to stop typing and start sleeping. Have a great weekend. Mike PS. Copy of thank you "note" to Garret to follow, maybe later today. Turned it into a tome, too. I've become Bob Ginivan, of whom my boss, Paul, said, "He speaketh in paragraphs" Bob was easily the best Personnel Department guy I ever encountered. I think part of it came because he started working before that crowd gave themselves the hyper-inflated name Human Resources. Kingmakers, my ass.

submitted by December 11, 2015+

decendent - Descendant. Possibly confused by the spelling of decedent.

e.g., "Why would anyone blame [Ben Affleck] for his ancestors’ [owning slaves]. This country is full of great people, many of whom are decendents of less-than-perfect individuals. If anything it’s an indicator of the growth of humankind." What Ben Affleck should be embarrassed about are his efforts to keep his slave-owning ancestors’ names out of the series. You’re getting what you deserve for your efforts, Ben -- more awareness about your slavery roots than would otherwise have been the case. It’s not what happened in a bygone era that’s your problem, it’s your recent attempt at a cover-up. PS. Whatever anyone may think of Ben Affleck, there's little danger that anyone outside his immediate family will think of him as a great person.

submitted by [Miss Speller] - (www)

decent - A very common misspelling of descent. I doubt that it will replace the old spelling no matter how much it's used. I've also seen descent spelled as decesnt, but I don't expect to see that spelling again.

e.g., "Germany was not interested in fighting us, and honestly most Americans weren't interested in fighting Germany due to the number of Americans with German decent." | "I am a first generation AMERICAN of Portuguese decent." | "I am of Irish decent, who where well know friends and supporters of the Spanish in Europe." | "I agree 100%. If anyone asks me I am an American. If they press then I am and American of Polish/Irish decent." | "I’m an American of Italian decent." | "I am an American first and foremost and of Cuban decent second." | "I’m an American of Mexican decesnt."

submitted by Miss Speller

deceptacon - A person suspected of being a liar, or untruthful.

e.g., "Don't trust Jimmy. I think he might be a Deceptacon."

submitted by Finley

decepticon - Someone who looks good from behind (or in poor lighting) but horrid when they turn around. | (dee-SEP-tick-on; n.) 1. A really good-looking muscle car, monster truck, or semi, especially if it's painted in super-high gloss and carries a load of chrome. (adj.) 2. Of or pertaining to such a vehicle. [From the Transformers toys, cartoons, and movie franchise.]

e.g., On TV, Calista Flockheart looks pretty good, but in person she looks like Golem from The Hobbit! Serious decepticon. | "Whoa! Check out that Camaro!" "That is so totally decepticon!"

submitted by limbodog | Scott M. Ellsworth - (www)

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