Saturday morning, headed to breakfast. Tooling down the road in the right lane, taking it easy with radar cruise on, passing a bunch of pickups towing empty trailers in the left lane. Grey GMC SUV was obviously getting frustrated and passed one of them using the suicide lane – almost living up to the name while swerving in to my immediate left yet still stuck behind another in the same apparent caravan. Truckavan? Nah. My passenger said “Whoa!” I, while gesturing at the model of Yukon on the side replied: “They think they’re going to get ahead of these trucks before the light, but they’re in Denali.” I apologize, and you’re welcome.
Truckaflatbed? Hell no, that’s worse, almost obscenely specific. What is the collective noun here? A clot sounds aggressively judgy. A queue implies less motion than there was.
I am SHOCKED that google returns nothing for this search. Literally unbelievable that in the course of human civilization (yes, yes, such as it is) this word has not been created, to describe two snakes eating each other’s tails, in an infinity symbol.
If anyone wants to make me an animation showing that, I’ll pay for it.
So, I’m watching Grace at recess before computer lab, and the trees are dropping acorns. I was about to point out to her that the acorns are baby trees, but that’s not entirely accurate. The are more tree fetuses. Treetuses, if you will.
And, the kids over there stomping on acorns? They are performing acortions.
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