Stark Raving Dictionary II

I tend to create words for my own usage quite a bit, usually insults, because I’m a writer and the English language is just not flexible enough to convey all the different shades of my rage. Not all of them are winners, but hopefully some of them will strike you as funny. These words are all self-created, but if you find them somewhere else then “brilliant minds think alike” and all that shit. If you do end up using them, then please let me know! 



Gi•gan•ta•tool [jahy-gan-tuh-tool] –noun


1. A person who has achieved greatness, going so far beyond being a mere “Tool” that they have now entered into the much-coveted and rarefied realm of acknowledged Tool royalty.

2. A person who, through no fault of their own (besides being born), you now hate to the core of your soul.

Auto Aggressive Side-Thrusting Psychosis [–Abbr. AASTP, or “AAhhhhhh, STOP!” as it is now known]

1. A little known disorder affecting people who are inconsiderate dick-like drivers. Widespread amongst drivers located in or from the northeast quadrant of the U.S. (Ed. Note: I am from the Northeast)

2. The symptom of the disease is shown by the affected driver pulling up to an intersection at an increased rate of speed, neglecting to slow down while clearly acknowledging oncoming traffic, hitting the brakes at the last minute to avoid a collision but not slowing down completely, and then continuing to nose forward in an assholish manner, thus conveying to the oncoming driver that they are “in a hurry” and “can’t stop for anyone else” and that they obviously consider themselves the “more important driver” in the intersection.

3. There is no cure for this disease, except for a horrible auto collision that will hopefully teach them a fucking lesson right before death. The only known defense against this disease is shown below.

Spock Smackdown [spok smak-doun] –noun

1. Named after a popular character in the Star Trek movie/television franchise, this maneuver is used to neutralize the effects of an encounter with an Auto Aggressive Side-Thrusting Psychosis driver. Can be used on other fuckwad drivers as well.

2. To initiate the move, the oncoming driver must immediately make eye contact with the AASTP driver. Once engaged, the oncoming driver must then raise his right eyebrow in disbelief, conveying to the AASTP driver the message, “Are you fucking kidding me? Don’t go fucking nosing your dumbass car into my intersection, bitch. I will cut you.” Once the message has been received, the oncoming driver may continue to maintain eye contact, driving home their message further and completely humiliating the AASTP driver until they are forced to look away, preferably down into their lap in shame. The oncoming driver may then finish their drive across the intersection, reveling in their complete moral, ethical, and emotional victory.

County Fair Drive-Thru [koun-tee fair drahyv throo] –noun

1. Not limited to the South or rural areas (despite the name), this is a term used to describe a certain type of drive-thru experience that makes you swear off fast food forever.

2. The clear signs of a county fair drive-thru are as follows:

a. Sudden, inexplicable stops that can go on for minutes and/or hours
b. Personnel with multiple deformities/lack of bathing/ugly tattoos/few teeth (see: Carnies)
c. Weird and unexplained noises coming from all around you (see: Speakerboxes)
d. Constrained tracks that do not allow you to leave the ride once you are on it
e. Exorbitant prices for everything, including food
f. All the games are rigged, everything you end up taking home is crap you don’t want
g. Haunting calliope music is played that chills you to the bone and causes you to see things hand-picked from your worst nightmares (see: Boredom, extreme; Side effects of)
h. The wild animal show is entertaining, although the cages/swing-sets/slides they are in look vaguely inhumane and cruel
i. All walls/floors are covered by something sticky and/or vomited
j. There’s cow poop. There’s always cow poop
k. You feel dirty and/or suicidal after entering

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Stark Raving Dictionary

I tend to create words for my own usage quite a bit, usually insults, because I’m a writer and the English language is just not flexible enough to convey all the different shades of my rage. Not all of them are winners, but hopefully some of them will strike you as funny. These words are all self-created, but if you find them somewhere else then “brilliant minds think alike” and all that shit. If you do end up using them, then please let me know!

Tool•fest•'14 [tool-fest-fohr-teen] –noun

1. A derisive description of a normal day that suddenly becomes inhabited by Tools of all shapes and sizes that infest your life and cause harm and destruction by fucking up your every waking thought, movement, or activity. Fearing your strong homicidal thoughts, you eventually run home, cower under a blanket, and wait until the sun rises again on a new day.

Example: "How's your day going today, dude?"

"Well, let's see: I almost got rearended by a douche who was flossing his teeth instead of actually driving, my teacher at the learning annex gave me an F on the paper I wasted the last month on, and I found out my last boyfriend gave me herpes. I'd say today has turned into a total fucking Toolfest '14."

"Dude, that sucks. C'mere so I can blow you to make you feel better."

"Uh, ok. What about your crabs?"

"Yeah, I had that taken care of, of course."


Pube•no•le•um [pyoo-beh-noh-lee-uhm] –noun

1. What the floor in your bathroom becomes coated with when you don't clean it for a month. Or longer.

2. A scientific impossibility, as no human can ever shed that much pubic hair and live. Analogous to finding a live unicorn or discovering the lost foreskin of Jesus. (Please reference Wikipedia for Jesus' foreskin. Really. I'm not kidding. Supposedly some church had it on display. No, really, I'm not joking. Yeah, I KNOW! Look it up!)

Example: "Ewww, what is all over this floor!?"

"Oh, it's just pubenoleum. Didn't think I shed that much hair, did you?"

"Yuck! It's a wonder you're not naturally bald down there. But y'know, it's oddly warm on my feet, especially now that it's winter..."


Can•cer Test [kan-ser test] –noun

1. A mental test that pops into your head when you are simultaneously faced with two emotional facts:

A. An acknowledgement (either covert or overt) of your mortality.

B. A contest, goal, achievement, or some other activity of worth that stretches yourself beyond the bounds of what you previously were comfortable with or thought you could accomplish.

Example: "Hey honey, did you want to go to that nude S&M beach party this Saturday or not? I've got Helen on the phone right now and she needs an answer."

"I don't know. It sounds kinda...weird."

"Well, weren't you the one that told me last week that one of your Bucket List entries was to be hung upside down in a sling while being fisted by a group of Hell's Angels? On a beach?"

"What is this, a cancer test? *Sigh* Oh, alright, sign us up!"


Lick•a•bly De•li•cious [lik-ah-blee di-lish-uhs] –adjective

1. Used to describe someone of unbearable gorgeosity. Someone who is both visually hot and gives off so much animal-magnetism hotness that you could instantly see yourself ripping off all his clothes (if he's wearing any) and giving him a thorough tounge bath from head to toe. Concentrating on the face and other sensitive areas. And liking every minute of it, of course.

Example: "Good G-d, did you see that guy in the locker room? Those abs! That back! His calves were the size of grapefruits, nevermind the size of his--"

"Hey, I was there too, remember? Heck, I got to see him step out of the shower! G-d, he was SO lickably delicious!"

"I know, right? Too bad he left so quickly. You know, I'm a diabetic, and without my recommended daily allowance of man-on-man licking I could fall into a coma instantly. Maybe we need to get back to your apartment and fix that, like STAT!"

"Okay, that is the worst line I have ever heard. You're an asshole."

"Whatever, your loss."

"Well...y'know...I'd really hate for you to fall into a coma..."

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Cinderella Needs a Diaper

This past weekend I was in my favorite store in the world, Target, and was walking past the card section on my way out. Unfortunately, I hadn’t found anything wondrous to significantly enhance my quality of life this visit, so I was a little bummed. As I breezed down the aisle, I noticed this lady standing next to the rack of cards, her small child perched in the front seat of her cart. She and her small reproductive dropping were dressed like any other slightly wealthy suburban ass-clones, so I didn’t give them a second thought.

Suddenly, out of nowhere, she lets out this exclamation, screaming it at the top of her lungs, “Cinderella’s ASSHOLE!!?!”

I stopped dead. My ears rose about five inches into the air, spontaneously grew pointed Spock tips, and turned bright red.

Whohuhwhat?! Come AGAIN?

Shocked, my jaw fully dropped, I turned and looked at her again. She now had my (and a couple of other people’s) undivided attention, as anyone who would stand in the middle of a crowded department store and yell about Cinderella’s chocolate starfish certainly deserved it.

But then my brain made it worse. I mean, yes, it was bad enough that she was yelling this blasphemous statement in a public place, but it was worse because she had somehow managed to make it into the form of a question. WHY? Why would this be a QUESTION?

I just didn’t understand it, and now all my brain could do was to try and think of the reverse-Jeopardy answer that would fit it. Uh, “Image that topped ‘Human Centipede’ as the most soul-destroying thing you have ever seen?” Or, “Mentioned (and shown) in the porn version, ‘Sin and Her Fella?’” Oh, I know! How about, “#1 instant boner-killer!” for a thousand, Alex?

Ms. Screamer seemed oblivious to the ruckus she had caused, pointing at a card her son held in his tiny hands and laughing at the image on the front. It was then that my brain caught up with my ears and realized that:

a) The woman in question had a thick, unidentifiable accent.
b) She had said, “Cinderella’s CASTLE” not “ASSHOLE” and was looking at said image on the card her son held.

Disappointed, (and oddly relieved) I resumed my trek towards the exit. Later that day, I realized I had literally gone decades on this planet without ever contemplating the existence of Cinderella’s (extremely clean, I’m sure) nether hole.

And I was uncontrovertibly happy about that.

But now, thanks to this innocence-destroying lady, the workings of Cinderella’s puckered poop chute would haunt my dirtied and defiled mind for the rest of the day.

Damn her to Disney hell.

© 2014 All Rights Reserved. The author of this blog reserves all rights to the content of this post. No part of this post may be reproduced in any format without written permission from the author.