It’s a fact… we all say stupid things when we’re drunk. Often times it is a slight slur of a word or phrase, maybe the alcohol acts as a lubricant to letting out the truth; either way, no one is immune to how inebriation influences our ability to articulate even the simplest of sentiments. A prime example occurred Monday night. The girlfriend had quarantined me to the couch because that’s what girlfriends do… and because she wanted to watch some senseless television show about a family with more fucking issues than… well… anyone else in America. [That’s how television writers rein you in, by creating a story line that you can sort of identify with… but twisting it just so, to make you think that you’re better than you really are.] Anyway, two glasses of wine in and the alcohol had rendered her incapable of speech. There was no actual incapacitation, so maybe I’m mincing my words. Grammatical decay would be inaccurate and likening what she said to raping the English language would be a smidgen over the top. I’m not one to exaggerate, ever, and I’m always an optimist, so perhaps it’s more accurate to say that the alcohol created an opportunity for her to sound like an idiot. I’m not sure what her intention was, but the word “queird” came out of her mouth. Quite obviously (to me), this was a merge of the words “queer” and “weird;” a byproduct of calling someone “queer” and realizing that the word may be inappropriate, thus causing a change of gear and commitment to the word “weird.” Never before has a situation been more definitive of the made up word… staring at each other, the ambiance turned queird or at least what I would imagine a queird ambiance to feel like. Nevertheless, she was not spared from my ruthless dissection of the flub:

“Is that the past tense of ‘queer’? Is it an action or a judgment? How do you ‘queer’ someone? Jimmy queird Johnny. Jimmy is so queird!
“Just so you know… I won’t allow that to be used if we play Scrabble again.”
“You know things are bad when your tongue and brain give up on you in the middle of a word. Is this going to change our relationship?”
“I’m not trying to be an asshole here… but, given that I am deeply concerned by what just happened, can you comment on exactly what that was?”
“We need to grab the laptop and check Google. I am pretty sure you just created a new language. We’ll call it… Herr-derp.”

You know what is really messed up? I didn’t get any action that night. Women can be so selfish sometimes.

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6 thoughts on “Queird”

  1. I’m surprised she didn’t tell you to go “Yuck Fourself’! LOL very funny!!

  2. So, let me get this straight oh hater of the Phillies. You criticized her for screwing up a word and you kept harping on it, and you are still confused why you didn’t get any? I wouldn’t expect any for a very long time because to give you sex would be quierd.

    1. Damn it, Donna… it’s a story. Do you really think she would let me end it with “She thought I was so funny and charming that she dropped trou and sat on my lap like a dirty, eager…”?

      I just can’t win with you. 🙂

      I don’t hate the Phillies, I just give you crap… I hate your Yankees roots.

      1. HA HA HA! No, you will not win. I am very tough to please. I guess I can live with you hating my Yankee roots but you will have to live with the Phillies winning the WS. BTW, I have an authentic autographed Derek Jeter Jersey Framed and hanging in my family room. It does not appreciate your attitude!

        1. As long as the Red Sox are winning, I really don’t care who wins the World Series. Being a realist, I know that my team can’t and won’t win it every year. I respect Jeter… and I will not let that topic die.

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