While there rarely comes a day when I go to bed thinking that there's a greater force smiling down on me because of some sort of great fortune from the day past, I frequently bed down with the opposite feeling. This opposite feeling would be that somewhere, some asshole is holding a universal remote control that allows him to make my life a constant state of boniness.
Boniness (N. derived from bone, bony): of or relating to bones, or being bony. (see below for further explanation)
Bony (Adj.)
1. of or like bone.
2. full of bones.
The full explanation of bony needs to be laid out here because it should be more widely used. My long-time buddy Nate and I concocted this definition long ago and have been consistently updating it whenever we run into a 'bony situation', or more commonly a 'bony sitch'. I think it all started as a weed reference when we were in high school, wherein someone who was totally baked would be referred to as 'boned out'. From here, less-than-great situations became 'boned out' situations, like the time Kev hit his head on a wall at Nick's Roast Beef in Beverly and bled all over the place. 'Boned out' was eventually shortened to just 'bony', or the abbreviated 'bones'. Variations include 'bone thugs', 'digging in the bone yard', 'boned', 'bonemeal' (or the french l'engrais), etc. Here are some examples to better serve your thirst to grasp and ultimately employ its use.
1. "Dude, the C's got blown out by D-town last night. Total bones."
2. "The fact that she totally negged you on the bj is bone thugs, man."
3. "Yeah, the cop served me up a steaming heap of bonemeal when he wrote me that ticket."
4. "We drank too much and I ended up digging in her boneyard." -or the alternate- "She must have been sauced because she had no issue with letting the bone dig."
(this last usage is actually not a negative instance and this is the only time it is used to define something not terrible)
I don't even remember where I was going with this post when I began...oh yeah, big brother. It just seems to me that today, like many other days, there's a dude fucking with me from somewhere and his plan is to make my life hell. I know you've been there, like when you're on a road with several consecutive traffic lights and every, single time you approach a light and gather speed, it turns yellow just in time so that you can't blow through it. That shit kills me. Or, just as you approach the toll lines on the Pike, the lane you've chosen suddenly closes because the attendant is going on break or some shit. Then you have to be the asshole who throws the blinker on and cuts across the Fast Lane lanes to get to another cash lane.
I've had enough of complaining this morning. Let's all rejoice that in a little more than 24 hours, we'll be partaking in the the year's most gluttonous holiday. That's right, tomorrow in the afternoon, all us Americans get to pile our plates high with turkey, stuffing, potatoes, cranberry sauce, squash, what-have-you, in an effort to see who can leave the most on his plate at the end of the meal because he's full. I know I do it every year. The first time I ever had T-Day away from home, I was at an ex-girlfriend's house and her mom got pissed at me because I had so much food on my plate when I tapped out. Apparently her family wasn't aware of my family's tradition but in my defense here, there were so many delicious items on their table that I couldn't help myself. I think you know what I mean. When you're staring at the choice between a second kind of potato dish and the creamed spinach, you don't flip a coin. You buckle down and take both because that's what T-Day is about. After the meal, my tradition is to retire to a couch and attempt to stay awake for at least 10 minutes of football. Following a brief siesta, we all return to the dinner table for dessert and this is my least favorite part. At this point, I've eaten so much that my Dad's pants wouldn't fit me and I'm supposed to eat more? Yet, I do every time. It's ridiculous.
Once again, I've taken a turn to negative town and I apologize. I wish everyone a happy and healthy Turkey Day with their loved ones. I would also bet against the Lions if I were you.
1 comment:
at VMI, john and his classmates had to "bone" eachother when they did something wrong.
always struck me a funny, esp. for such a homophobic environment.
hope you had a pants-busting holiday. please come over and fall asleep on our couch soon.
n.
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