So today, as I was swirling my aged 2009 glass of red wine in my neon orange, plastic Senior Celebration cup, I began to think. Those same people - remember, the chicken farmers from the previous paragraph? - have been telling me to buckle down, and stop letting my imagination run away with me. Let me ask you something. Why is it so wrong to be prancing on a white sand beach, with my best, but hunchbacked, friend, Imagination? None of the other kids wanted to play with him, so I said, "jump on, buddy!" and wore his ass like a back pack. Just because his favorite activity involves running, those English speakers of the world doth protest.
Which brings me to my main point. People should say what they mean, and that's why I'm presenting you with four mock-ups of what happens when idioms go wrong. Before you read the accompanying captions and descriptions, stare at each photo and try to figure out what idiom I have masterfully illustrated. Otherwise, you too will be singing Every Rose Has Its Thorn, crying yourself to sleep as 10 more slutty women refuse to shack up with you on a bus.
From 56 yards deep, too.
Kicking the Bucket: The phrase, no doubt created by a philosophical janitor, has come to describe the end of life. Interesting story, this idiom came about during early 20th century medicine, as a patient was "pissing his life away." The nurse overseeing him got so mad at the noise, she kicked the bucket out from under him with all of her white shoe'd might, not realizing he'd been sitting. Next thing you know, Boom, death by cracked ass.
That third Powder Puff Girl sure would come in handy right now. Not the ugly one though.
A taste of your own medicine: First of all, using an idiom while describing another? Who do I think I am? Stephen Baldwin, that's who. At any rate, this idiom strikes close to home. One time, after my third Choco Taco, my body found itself fighting a violent case of frozen-innards. That is the medical term for it. Some rummaging through my cabinets and garage later, I created a potion of saltines, orange juice, whiskey, and a pinch of WD-40 to cure what ailed me. The taste of my own medicine? Coffee...from the emergency room.
Decisions Bro....Decisions
Put on your thinking cap: If such were the case, my neighborhood hangout of Lids would fucking sell them.
Freeze! It's Liberty Police!
Saved by the bell: I guess if I had to pick anyone, it would have to be A.C. Slater. But if that show had been what I had always dreamed of, the buddy cop genre could have been greatly expanded. This boxing phrase is used to describe when the boxer on the receiving end of a pummeling survives to fight another round, because the sound of the bell ends the current one. If this bell really was the savior Jesus Christ, a much more altruistic approach would be to end the fight entirely. Otherwise it's just continued torture.
You'll now find yourself noticing that idioms don't just come once in a blue moon, and you'll fight the urge to cry wolf, vigorously trying to speak in English befitting a 10th grade ESL class. In these cases, just remember, Bret Michaels = Poison, and Poison = fish in French.
Love,
Mike
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