I was talking to the couple who are staying at Fitch Mountain Lookout the other day. We had a really good visit (or so I thought). They talked. I talked. I asked them questions. I talked some more (poor them…I didn’t explain that I’m Princess Donkey).
I told them about my blog and how much I freak over words, vocabulary, and new expressions (aka: logophile). They told me one of their friends was a character. He invents words. Really. He invents words “…to mean exactly what he wants them to mean, and nothing else.” [Humpty Dumpty in Alice in Wonderland]
So. Here it is. The word of the day today is: syphtonicmegatoid.
Mark tells me when he was younger–in his twenties and him and his buddies were going out to bars and dancing and stuff, his friend would point out the girls who had a reputation and caution: You don’t want to know her, she’s a syphtonicmegatoid.
Deconstructed, syph-tonic-mega-toid:
Syph: Means she’s been around too many bars with too many men and she probably has nasties (like syphilis).
Tonic: And at the rate she’s been around too many bars with too many men, she’s actually a walking, talking mixture of nasties. And if you touch her, you’ll probably need course of antibiotics to get rid of it.
Mega-toid: Could possibly mean just too much…syphilis on steriods?
In the 21st Century though, I would argue that this word doesn’t just apply to women.
[…] We talk about that for a bit. Being able to put yourself out there knowing you might get hurt. And I know I can’t do that yet. BUT damn! I know I’d certainly like the feel of a warm body close to mine for a bit–but I’m just not putting myself out there like that (unless you count making out with a 20-something on a Friday night after I’ve had a few drinks–but ugh–Have to watch out for that. Don’t want to become known as the local syphtonicmegatoid). […]