Dear Antidisestablishmentarianism,
Oh come on. You’re not a word, you’re an event. How can you be so concerned with your own very particular meaning? How can a word that looks like you mean anything but ‘Look at me’?
Look at you — those mutually negating prefixes. Why not cut them loose and spare us the syllables? Look at your suffixes, shuffling stiffly into place like men arranging themselves for a group photo. You’re like the uncle who thinks he’s charismatic but is just drunk. You’re like the unreconstructed sentimentalist neighbor who, Christmas after Christmas, goes too far with the lights. Ten years from now, seeing the Polaroids, will you be proud of that outfit? You’re like a plate of toothpaste.
Or perhaps you haven’t gone far enough. Why not "Antidisestablishmentarianismboutrosboutrospleasemakefunofme"? If you insist. Four i’s. Ha ha! I can’t see the four s’s for the t’s. Ho ho! Sorry for the irreverence. I know how “anti-diss” you are. OOOOOOOOHHHH. Speaking of o’s, where are they? Did you not have room? Methlychloroisothiazolinone manages five. What’s up with you? And u? Shut up before I set a drink on you. Shut up before I ride you down to my favorite drinking establishment… What’s your position on those, again?
Antidisestabetcetera, you’re too much. Please desist. Disest. Shut up before I smack the shment out of you. That reminds me: Do you remember that Danger Bob song, Real World Me’?
Take the ‘o’ out of ‘Cory’,
Take the ‘o’ out of ‘Cory’,
Take the ‘o’ out of ‘Cory’,
and make her ‘Cry’.
That was good. They were a good band. Too bad they disestablished. So what else is going on?
Love,
E
