Let’s head back into your childhood for a moment.  It’s the wee hours of Christmas morning – the house is still dark.  Your movements are like a whisper’s shadow’s fleeting thought about mute buttons. No noise.  Ninja child. Having completed your meticulous present re-taping, secure in the knowledge of each soon-to-be-yours Christmas gift, and  chuckling fiendishly to yourself at the thought of once again usurping the fat red man’s would-be power to surprise, you decide to give that little brat Mom keeps calling Your Sister an altogether different kind of Christmas morning shock.

Fast forward to the day of. Upon opening her Spoiled Heiress Barbie and spotting what you’ve done to it in the night, little miss perfect points accusingly at you and screams “HE is the WORST brother EVER! You are the MEANEST!!” She starts to cry, mostly for effect, wailing “you’ve RUINED Christmas!”

“Whoa now, that’s not fair!” You quickly protest, “I am definitely not the worst brother ever.”  You knew all along you’d be caught – what you did was mean and you are willing to face the consequences.  However, being a child abnormally fond of your scruples, you feel very strongly that a minor familial spat is no good reason for this little girl’s wanton hyperbole.  As such you take aim at your accusatory audience and begin to fire white-hot balls of scrupulous rationality: “I could’ve done way worse, you know.  If replacing your stupid doll with the dog’s rubber chicken is the “worst” thing ever – makes me the “meanest” person and “ruins” Christmas entirely – what would you possibly have left to say if right this minute I burned the damn house down? Eh? What if I skinned Fido and cut a doll-shaped piece out of his flesh to stick in there instead? Would I still be the “worst ever” brother?”

By this time, your stepdad has you over his shoulder and half-way up to your room, still yelling “Think before you speak you hyperbolic thumbsucker! You are the STUPIDEST child EVER to be born into this family! . . .DO YOU SEE HOW I DID THAT??”

*slam* goes the door to your room.

As the sounds of resumed Christmas joy waft up from the living room you probably felt as if you were all alone in the world.  As if there was no one who appreciated the finer points of grammatical maturity quite like you.  You were doomed to be righteously accurate, while the world lolled in the muck of overstatement.

Friend, you are not alone.

We, like you, have a penchant for the blissful sonorous tones of appropriate diction, and, quite incidentally, happen also to be capable of exceptional cruelty in the name of comedy.  But forget about the sister for a moment, she’s a spoiled bitch anyway, she’ll live.  The real issue here, we can agree, is the disturbing tendency in modern colloquial dialogue to describe even the slightest spike on one’s emotional timeline with words that are better saved for a 100+ orgasm wet dream, or the sound of every WWII widow weeping simultaneously into megaphones.

Some might say that griping about speech patterns is as productive a pastime as autofellatio, or actually trying to save the rainforests, or curling.  We would like to humbly remind any such naysayers that they are, in point of fact, taking the time to gripe about griping about speech patterns.  Which means they are every bit as bad as us, plus an extra layer of “wow your life is hollow and small” . . . making their shame a sad and lonely onion indeed.

Invisible critics summarily humbled, the first and most widespread category of misappropriated exaggeration is . . .

The “-est’s” – Best, Worst, and all the others”

When It’s Okay:

The problem with exaggeration is it’s all subjective.  So, unfortunately, when you roll off of the Perfect 10 that beer goggles allowed you to bring home from the bar the night before, and you ask, because you honestly don’t remember, “was it good for you, gorgeous?” And you get the ubiquitous “I’ve had better.” You’re in no position, linguistically (or, probably, otherwise), to argue.

When It’s Not:

Of course, if she says “that was the worst sex I’ve ever had!”  Her diction is unarguable as well, presuming it’s true.  What you can do is take small comfort in the thought that the Grammar Gods, should they decide to begin their reign of terror in our lifetime, will have a lightning bolt ready for that bitch the next time she tells a slob he was her worst, knowing in her heart that it was actually you.

We can use our same imaginary hot chick to pose further examples: “ugh, hangnails are the worst!” or even, “OMG, I just saw the best movie the other day – Gerard Butler is such a slice!”

First of all, hangnails are annoying, and depending on the nature of your day-to-day, a hangnail very well may be the worst thing to happen . . . to your left fucking pinky . . . since this morning.  The keyword is qualification here sweetie, maybe that’s what this article should be about – qualifying your statements.  Too late now.

Secondly, I agree, Gerard Butler bulges in all the right places.  Maybe “The Ugly Truth” is your favorite movie of all time – the best movie.  In which case I stand corrected (my inner critic is screaming at me for saying that, but I’ll silence him in the name of brevity).  However you probably thought anything with Hough Grant in it was the best move ever all through the nineties, in which case you need desperately to find yourself some new words.  Like “great,” or “enjoyable,” we’re not looking for originality here, just accuracy

“Fuck – and its umpteen uses”

When It’s Okay:

I say fuck all the time.  It’s fucking useful.  But I just so happen to be writing this article, and so have the power to make myself the exception to my own rule.  Nah nah.  But seriously, fuck as a proclamation of a heightened emotional state should be used sparingly.  Among the acceptable “Oh fuck!” situations . . .

Fuck may’ve been invented at this very moment

. . . As well as this list of historically accurate quotations.  Fuck should come out when you have a REAL FUCKING PROBLEM . . . like I do, right now, with the overuse / under appreciation of one of my favorite words.  Once again, it’s subjective, but if you were to throw your emotional seismometer up on a bar graph, fuck outta come in no sooner than 8 or 9.

When It’s Not:

Fuck is a powerful word.  We like that it’s a powerful word and hope it remains stigmatized by politicians and the media as a whole for a long time to come (can you imagine the cover of Newsweek: Experts Agree: Civil Unrest in Lebanon “All Fucked Up”).  Outside of Tarantino movies and The Big Lebowski, frequent and persistent fuck-age causes the word to grow stale, lose its edge, and then it means absolutely fucking nothing. This ought to be a very real fear: If Miley Cyrus’ next groundbreaking album has tracks like “Fuck My Rockstar Life” or “Billy Ray Fuckin’ Who?” – what, tell me what are people with real goddamn problems going to use to prove their suffering is more valid and difficult than that of millionaire Disney Channel jailbait?  Scares the shit outta me, personally.

[the 15 New Words article is 1,314 words long]

One can always say something is the best or worst when, to them, it is true.  quick list: Intentionally misleading humor (cf: the title of this article or anything from the Comic Book Guy), Nick Cage movies since the millennium (

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Roll over to the cat’s bowl and glean what sustenance you can.  That’ll learn ya.

Think Valley Girl inflections for a moment.  “Oh. My. God.  He is the ugliest, like, thing

Your family, largely ignoring all aspects of your hermetic argument, sends you to your room for the remainder of the holiday and probably donates your unopened toys to charity.  Whatever, you’ve seen them and they were mostly educational (read: mostly crap).

Perhaps you saw this article, concerning intelligence reports that North Korea plans to fire a missile towards Hawaii on or around July 4th. Perhaps you dismissed it, considering North Korea’s dubious record of successes previously. I myself was guilty of this. But then I saw the following image

Check out those officers, with their bizarre, towering, bowl shaped hats! Any nation that can deploy hats like that is a nation to be feared. I also like the fact that apparently Kim Jong is doing his best Roy Orbison impersonation.

Yeah, this sounds about right.

Demonstrating the incredible power of the UN security council, Adm. Michael Mullen, chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, explained that they would request permission to board a North Korean vessel suspected of carrying illicit arms. Apparently, under the stiff UN security council resolution, it can’t be boarded without permission. Mullen explains “The United Nations Security Council resolution does not include an option for opposed-boarding or noncompliant boarding with respect to that,” he said. “We expect compliance.”

I guess maybe the thought of non-compliance never crossed the UNSC’s mind with regards to North Korea. When have they never not complied before?

A little bit late, I know, but hypocrisy never expires. Maybe you saw the good Reverend Jeremiah Wright declare that “them Jews” ain’t gonna let him talk to Obama. Or maybe you heard his illuminating clarification, where he later explained “I’m not talking about all Jews, all people of the Jewish faith, I’m talking about Zionists.” So it’s only the Jews who want a homeland. Not all Jews. That makes it so much better.

Wright then goes on to rant that “They can jump on that one phrase if they want to, but they can’t, they can’t undo history. They can’t undo the facts of Jewish historians  and Jewish theologians who write about what’s going on, who write about the enormous influence that AIPAC has on our government and on United States policy and the United Nations.” It is truly a rant worthy of The Protocols of the Elders of Zion.

I guess Obama has already distanced himself from Wright, but one would still hope that such blantant racism, especially by someone who was a close confidant and spiritual guide, would bring a specific, pointed rebuke.

Jewish Conspiracy! Booga booga booga!

In a headline that is tragic and mildly humorous at the same time, 2 are dead and 1 are missing after a Slim Jim plant exploded. In all fairness, this is probably why you shouldn’t make a product that is approximately 2% meat and 98% petroleum. When asked for comment,  “Macho Man” Randy Savage reportedly remarked “OOOOOHHH NOOOO!!!”

This commmercial and its parody concerning the GM bailout are hilarious. It’d be even funnier if we weren’t all getting fucked in the process.

Woah, it’s been a while. And while I have been busy, the world has been absurd. Did you know crunch berries are not real fruit? If you had an IQ above 25, of course you did. But that won’t stop people from suing, citing deceptive practices! There are several fantastic lines, but my favorite: “This Court is not aware of, nor has Plaintiff alleged the existence of, any actual fruit referred to as a “crunchberry.” ”

Also out there, the Hamas dating service! I can only assume that the picture attached to the article is a happy couple. Look how happy she looks there! At least I think it’s a she. Hell, she could have 50 lbs of dynamite under that for all I know.

I’m not sure if it’s Jónsi Birgisson’s heartfelt falsetto voice or the simple and timeless sound that Sigur Ros creates but there is just something that makes you FEEL their music. This video sets the perfect mood to really appreciate what they do. Take your time and enjoy this….

In a scenario that I can only describe as “out of my worst goddamn nightmares”, a town in Australia is being overrun with huge fucking spiders. The spiders, which can have a leg span of up to 6.3 inches, are Eastern Tarantulas, and according to the article:

“They are also known as whistling or barking spiders for the hissing noise they emit when they are disturbed or aggravated at close range.”

So not only are they huge, but they can also whistle or hiss at you.  It’s a personal nightmare to have spiders in my room at night. It is magnified 10 fold by the idea of them being 6.3 inches in leg span. It is further magnified by an undefinable amount if these hell spawned demons could whistle, hiss, and chatter at me from the darkness.

No wonder the English sent their convicts to Australia. Just living there is a punishment by nature.