Wondering how many four-letter words can be made by combining as many two-letter postal abbreviations of states as possible. Example:
PA (Pennsylvania) + CT (Connecticut) = PACT.
I came up with 20. I believe that is the maximum possible.
FLAK, ORCA, COOK, GAME, HIND, WAIL, WINY, DEWY, MAID, MINE, ARID, MOMS, ARKS, VAIN, VIVE, LAKY, OHIA, SCUT.
Sunday, April 8, 2012
Get out your Hankies, and weep
On this day in 1975, Henry ("Hank") Aaron hit his 715th career home run, overtaking Babe Ruth as the all-time leader.
Since then, Barry Bonds, the Sullen of Swat, has supplanted Aaron at the top, though not, apparently, in the hearts and minds of baseball fans.
Today's ghost word: Hankaaroning, n. (From hankering) A yearning for a more innocent era, real or imagined, in sports.
Since then, Barry Bonds, the Sullen of Swat, has supplanted Aaron at the top, though not, apparently, in the hearts and minds of baseball fans.
Today's ghost word: Hankaaroning, n. (From hankering) A yearning for a more innocent era, real or imagined, in sports.
Sunday, April 1, 2012
Wellcome in
Sign on a convenience-store billboard: "You're freindly neighborhood market."
Maybe the self-marketers wish to cast a "spell" on passers-by.
Today's coined work: spellunkhead, n.: One who flaunts his poor spelling skills, rather than properly concealing them in a cave.
Maybe the self-marketers wish to cast a "spell" on passers-by.
Today's coined work: spellunkhead, n.: One who flaunts his poor spelling skills, rather than properly concealing them in a cave.
Thursday, March 22, 2012
Method in the Madness
Today's coined word: bracketeering, n. The selling of college basketball's national tournament by encouraging pools and betting.
Tuesday, February 7, 2012
The race goes to the swift
Not feeling too swift today? Maybe some Tom Swifties will cheer you up.
“Please ring the bell,” she appealed.
“The fire’s going out!” he bellowed.
“That’s my gold mine!” he claimed. “But it was mine!” he exclaimed.
“More steamers all around!” they clamored.
“We’ve taken over the government,” the general cooed.
“You can’t really train a beagle,” he dogmatized. “That’s no beagle, it’s a mongrel,” she muttered.
“I used to be a pilot,” he explained.
“Oh, brother,” Tom said grimly.
“Company’s coming, right?” she guessed.
“I used too much gold paint,” he said guiltily.
“The maid’s off today,” he said helplessly.
“What did you do all day?” he asked her. “Sewed and gardened,” she hemmed and hawed.
“Dawn comes too soon,” she mourned.
“What was that game called with the knife?” mumbled Peg.
“Nothing, nothing,” Tom said naughtily.
“Be sure and see that psychiatrist,” she reminded me.
“But my experiment was a success,” the chemist retorted.
“I wanted chocolate, not vanilla!” I screamed.
“I might as well end it all,” Sue sighed.
“I only subscribe to Newsweek,” he said timelessly.
“Who? What?” said Tom warily.
“I’ll be sure and bequeath it to you,” she said willingly.
“And you lose some,” Tom said winsomely.
“Please ring the bell,” she appealed.
“The fire’s going out!” he bellowed.
“That’s my gold mine!” he claimed. “But it was mine!” he exclaimed.
“More steamers all around!” they clamored.
“We’ve taken over the government,” the general cooed.
“You can’t really train a beagle,” he dogmatized. “That’s no beagle, it’s a mongrel,” she muttered.
“I used to be a pilot,” he explained.
“Oh, brother,” Tom said grimly.
“Company’s coming, right?” she guessed.
“I used too much gold paint,” he said guiltily.
“The maid’s off today,” he said helplessly.
“What did you do all day?” he asked her. “Sewed and gardened,” she hemmed and hawed.
“Dawn comes too soon,” she mourned.
“What was that game called with the knife?” mumbled Peg.
“Nothing, nothing,” Tom said naughtily.
“Be sure and see that psychiatrist,” she reminded me.
“But my experiment was a success,” the chemist retorted.
“I wanted chocolate, not vanilla!” I screamed.
“I might as well end it all,” Sue sighed.
“I only subscribe to Newsweek,” he said timelessly.
“Who? What?” said Tom warily.
“I’ll be sure and bequeath it to you,” she said willingly.
“And you lose some,” Tom said winsomely.
Friday, January 27, 2012
Send yourself off in style
For years, I’ve read the obituaries in local newspapers all over the country. Having been a newspaper writer myself, I’ve often wondered: Why aren’t obituaries more interesting? Why are they preoccupied with details concerning those left behind?
Death is often the only occasion when one's name is printed in the paper. Why, then, should the departed one not be given his or her due?
As I’ve learned in writing about the living: Everyone’s life is a story. The dead should be honored, just for having lived. Creating a compelling obituary – telling one’s story concisely but elegantly – is an act of justice.
It's your life--why not have the last word? Write your own obituary--before it's too late!
Give people something to remember you by--the story of your life in your own words. Or you can pay me to use my own deathless ones. (Email me at paulerland@gmail.com.)
Here's an example: http://www.amazon.com/Frances-Elise-Curtis-Miller-Erland/dp/1466497211/
Death is often the only occasion when one's name is printed in the paper. Why, then, should the departed one not be given his or her due?
As I’ve learned in writing about the living: Everyone’s life is a story. The dead should be honored, just for having lived. Creating a compelling obituary – telling one’s story concisely but elegantly – is an act of justice.
It's your life--why not have the last word? Write your own obituary--before it's too late!
Give people something to remember you by--the story of your life in your own words. Or you can pay me to use my own deathless ones. (Email me at paulerland@gmail.com.)
Here's an example: http://www.amazon.com/Frances-Elise-Curtis-Miller-Erland/dp/1466497211/
Sunday, October 2, 2011
Famous last words, by trade
Judge: I have no precedent for this.
Believer in reincarnation: Intermission time already?
Childless railroad conductor: End of the line.
Bridge player: I pass.
Gossip: I’m dying to tell someone.
Elevator operator: Going up?
Believer in reincarnation: Intermission time already?
Childless railroad conductor: End of the line.
Bridge player: I pass.
Gossip: I’m dying to tell someone.
Elevator operator: Going up?
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