Friday Boggle

Avid fans of Faulty Feet (for the purpose of this post, let's say they exist) will remember my last Scrabble post, in which I shed light on the tendency that non-competitive people have to let their playmates put words on the board that are not exactly words, per se. Well, once again, the hour of unconventional rules to word board games has stricken (stroke? striked?). This time, we’ll take a look at Boggle. Basically, if the word ‘should be a word’, then it is. 

Here are a few of the words and their imaginary but nonetheless valid definitions:

Pumis - either a hummus filled public bone or a dried up penis that is used as a pumice stone. (ew.)

Yumbits - no need for a definition, chances are you know exactly what these are. Om nom nom nom nom.

Telemody: of Telemundo

Mylon: not your nylon.

Doy: a Yiddish version of Homer Simpson’s ‘Doh!’

Heman: words applicable to Arnold Schwarzenegger, Rod Steward and John Hamm only.

Ok, this isn’t a made up word but look, it’s a tapir!

Charlotte

Let's have bizarre celebrations

Today we had a fairly important presentation at uni, which involved me in a group with two others giving a powerpoint presentation. (Yes, I am going to modestly brag now.) Recently we've had a lot of snowfall (very, if not extremely unusual for this region at this time of year), so everyone is in christmas/winter wonderland mode. To celebrate this, I included some fancy-ass powerpoint animations that involved a little christmas hat bouncing in on the screen and landing on the first letter of the title in the last slide. The teacher (a Danish man who I've somehow come to respect) laughed, and afterwards when he was giving the whole class general feedback he singled me out and complimented me on my powerpoint skills. Sad part? That was probably the proudest moment in my entire non-existant academic career. And it will probably remain that way for quite some time. 

Anyway, keeping with the mood I included a "bizarre celebrations christmas navel". Although, the irony is kind of lost in this one, because if he was really desperate to open it he could use his teeth. (Unless he has none?)

I took the photo with iPhoto so it's kind of crappy quality... Anyway I'm not really happy with it, I refuse to accept it as a legitimate christmas Navel. 

I haven't been drawing any Navels because I felt that I had "outgrown" him and wanted to pursue more complicated things than a bean-shaped fetus. I was trying to squeeze out a drawing the other day and failed miserably, which is when I drew a crying Navel. That's when I decided that maybe I need a little more Navels in my life. 

Isabel

Sunday cleaning

I have nothing interesting to write, so i'm just gonna talk about sunday cleaning. The cleaning of our collective surfaces (kitchen, living room, BATHROOMS) has been a recurring topic and the cause of much passive-agressive behavior recently. We've tried several different strategies, everything from lists to chore wheels, but they haven't really worked, because SOME people don't to their work - usually me, but i'm not the only one. A recurring phrase from our corridor meeting is the standard "It's no use pointing fingers, they know who they are, but SOME people aren't doing their bit" (this followed by a meaningful stare at SOME people)
 Anyway, to cope with the increasing amount of dirty dishes and spotted toilet seats, we divided up into cleaning pairs, each pair getting one week. I was teamed up with tall nordic man, he lives at the very end of the hall and barely ever says anything (I've insisted on greeting him every time I see him in the kitchen, thus essentially "training" him in social contact. In fact, today we reached a new milestone - he said "hi" before me)  Anyway, so today we very swiftly negotiated the terms of our cleaning partnership - he does the bathrooms, I do the living room and the kitchen. This may or may not later have led to a slightly panicky phone call to my cousin about which mop to use, but I still think I got the better end of the deal.

Isabel

Mommy Squirrels Don't Have Pouches

Last Friday I went to Buffalo Exchange - one of my favorite used clothing stores. In the fitting rooms, I found that a little creature was staring at me while I was trying on a jumpsuit that I couldn’t possibly pull off. This guy:

Cute right? So, look at that picture. No, really look at it. Why is this squirrel surrounded by fur, you ask? Possibly it’s because it’s a Baby Squirrel in Mommy Squirrel’s pouch... (after writing that, I now realize that I know nothing about squirrel child-rearing. Help me out Wikipedia). Ok, they don’t have pouches. Yes, I knew that. 

But I digress.

Now, those who know me will tell you that I’m not the most generous person. That being said, I really appreciate those who are. Charities are good is what I’m saying. And that may seem like an unnecessary thing to say, but I think it needs to be said before I get to my point. The reason why the squirrel is surrounded by fur is...

I’ll let that sink in a for minute..........

“Give your furs back to the animals!”. So, as I understand it, Coats for Cubs takes furs and uses them to make beds for baby animals. I guess they’re trying to make good use out of the killing of animals for fashion but... this seems ever so slightly extreme and, to be honest, a little cannibalistic. I don’t know... if I was an "orphaned and injured wildlife", I wouldn’t want to run the risk of using my murdered mother’s skin as a pillow.

I’d love to hear thoughts. Perhaps in comment form?

Charlotte

Notmyname.

I've been taking Speech classes for the last year and a half... so I'm pretty sure this wasn't my fault.

Charlotte

Smack Talk

Sally: Your mama

Charlotte: No, your mama

Sally: No, your mama

Charlotte: No, your mama

Marissa: Everyone's mama

Sally: Mother Earth!

Charlotte

Saturday Scrabble

        Last Saturday, Maya was off at a gala and Marissa was in Connecticut, shooting a film. That left Sally and I alone. Now, New York City has a lot to offer on a Saturday night. We could have, for example, attended the “Zero Film Festival” in Williamsburg, Brooklyn, where 20 local short films were shown along with some independent art installation. Or we could’ve gone to “The Return of Rococo Party: A Baroque Bash”, in alphabet city, an underground party inspired by 1770s Paris, featuring live art, fire-dancing, wire-walking and live techno baroque rock music (whatever that means). Or maybe we could’ve gone to “Dr. Sketchy’s Anti-Art Resurrects Warhol’s Factory”: a gathering of Brooklyn-based artists where they are invited to draw burlesque queens and underground performers costumed as Warhol’s favorite subjects. (*Note: these are all actual events that were taking place last Saturday)

OR we could’ve stayed in and played Scrabble. Which we did.

Now, neither Sally nor I were feeling in a particularly competitive mood, which resulted in a very ‘original’ final board. Let’s just say that if you are a die-hard-Scrabble-rule-follower, you may not want to look at what’s below.

Let me define some of these for you:

Knived - /naɪvd/: If you stab someone, that person can very well scream “I have been knived”. This then resulted in Sally trying to convince me that the word for “to cooperate secretly; conspire” was spelt ‘knive’... After a few minutes of debate, dictionary.com proved to be on my side, as it is, in fact, spelt “connive”.

Joinudity - /dʒoɪnudɪti/ : Sally had ‘nudity’ and there was nowhere else to put it and I wasn’t going to be evil enough to say no. “Joinudity” is either that feeling of elation that takes place right after disrobing or is the slogan for Naturism Promoters.

Trailen - /treɪlɪn/ : When you’re tracking an animal, following their trail, once you’ve gone through that trail, it has been trailen.

Ono - /ono/: As in Yoko.

Avibrate - /eɪvaɪbrɪt/: An object which doesn’t have the ability to vibrate is "avibrate". 

Mind you, these were just the highlights. I am very aware that words such as ‘St’ and ‘Mc’ and ‘Faust’ and ‘IQ’ are suspect, at best.

In case you're wondering, here are the scores, written on the back of a receipt:

Charlotte