Category Archives: Poor Decorum

Ignominiable!

A google search yesterday as a result of randomly rewatching this clip from a 2010 Ginger’s Ale House (now AJ Hudson’s) improvised show with my man Neal Dandade provided a surprising internet revelation. My dubious usage of the made-up and not-real word “ignominiable” prompted said search, and one choice internet hotlink later I was gazing upon this little chestnut:

ignominiable 1 Continue reading

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Filed under Poor Decorum

Life and Death and the World Cup

In the wake of their 5-1 drubbing by der Nederlanden in the group opener, hard-luck (or just bad?) Spanish/Real Madrid goalkeeper Iker Casillas has claimed that their next game against Chile is ‘life or death.’

Currently Colombia is playing Greece, bringing to mind the tragic 1994 death of Colombian defender Andrés Escobar. His own-goal against the United States lead in part to a 2-1 loss in the World Cup that year, which likely lead to him being shot to death by a bodyguard of a cartel leader.

Colombia 1994 and Spain 2014 are more than a little different, but even still, hopefully Casillas is dead wrong.

 

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Filed under Association Football, Poor Decorum

Call it self-referential

but the spam-bots are getting PRETTY sophisticated. Just found this in the ol’ attempted comments filter from a “Mary Salas”:

The very heart of your writing while appearing reasonable originally, did not really settle perfectly with me after some time. Somewhere within the paragraphs you actually were able to make me a believer unfortunately only for a very short while. I however have a problem with your leaps in logic and one would do well to help fill in those gaps. If you actually can accomplish that, I would certainly be fascinated.

I feel like this is so general, only small changes could make it sound like a break-up:

The very heart of you, while appearing reasonable originally, did not really settle perfectly with me after some time. Somewhere within you actually were able to make me a believer unfortunately only for a very short while. I however have a problem with your leaps in logic and you would do well to help fill in those gaps. If you actually can accomplish that, I would certainly be fascinated.

Ouch city.

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Filed under Jokes, Poor Decorum

Euphemisms for Cold Sores

Playing the Herpsichord

The Sins of the Father

Study-Hall-Cola-Blossom

Uncle John’s Band (“band” pronounced “van”)

Garbage Mouth

Lip Rot

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Filed under Being Human, Gross, Jokes, Poor Decorum

LIKE A CHILD

LIKE A CHILD

A brief stage play illustrating a cautionary tale of how to inadvertently alienate a stranger and do nothing to mollify the situation

Setting:

The Horseshoe Casino Steakhouse waiting area, Hammond, Indiana, Summer 2009.

Cast:

MARK, a 30-year old.

A nice family (MAUREEN, Tom, TJ)

STRANGER, a balding, short-pants-wearing middle-aged stranger

A Casino Steakhouse Staff Member

Immediately behind MARK stands a middle-aged, short-pants-wearing STRANGER, who has for several minutes not been getting satisfaction from staff regarding a table reservation.  His considerable ire is a fact MARK can hear but not see. Immediately before the journey to the casino, MARK changed his attire from shorts to pants on account a misguided sense of decorum.           

At the outset of the play we hear a brief muttering of disconcert from the STRANGER to the Staff Member. MAUREEN notices MARK’s change of clothing attire.

MAUREEN

Oh, you changed from shorts to pants!

MARK

Oh yeah I did, back at the house before we left. Ugh, otherwise I’d be standing here in shortpants, LIKE A CHILD.

These last three words are not yelled but uttered with such slow, deep contempt as to warrant capitalizing. Off MAUREEN’s reaction of shock and bottled amusement, MARK turns around. He and the STRANGER regard each other briefly, the STRANGER has clearly overheard. MARK looks down, turns back, looks briefly and blankly at MAUREEN, puts his hands on his hips. There is a loud exhale before he turns and stares absently at Lake Michigan through a nearby window, while the group is mired in thick, lengthy silence.

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Filed under Poor Decorum, Stage Plays