I really like St. Patrick’s Day.
Not because I ever do anything to celebrate it, but because it reminds me of the time when I was six that my school put on a St. Patrick’s Day show and I played the Head Snake.
I guess I’ve been trying to recreate that role ever since.
It’s too bad you apparently missed the opportunity of a lifetime in the upcoming Samuel Jackson flick, Snakes on a Plane. Google it. You’ll see.
I think they’ll be using real snakes for a lot of the roles, but maybe, with your extraordinary persuasive powers, you could have convinced them to cast you as “head snake.”
Doubtless this would have fulfilled all your unmet needs from your entire lifetime and allowed you to enter a state of untrammeled bliss for the remainder of your time on earth.
So many straight lines, so little time.
I would imagine that you would get pinched a lot on a day like today, with that reddish hair and all…
Hi Faustus. I think you should pounce on birdfarm’s use of ‘google’ as a verb. Personally I am revolted by this trend and I imagine you are too. “Google.” Sounds like a disease.
[Anono] People usually take Joel for a leprechaun anyway. It’s the fairy gold that clinches it.
I can’t say anything about St Patrick’s day, whether i like it or not. I don’t suppose I do anything special because I seem to have no memories whatsoever of any March 17th.
“Faustus’ Fairy Gold” = hand knitted leg warmers, speedo, scarf and thong.
birdfarm: Damn you.
anapestic: And I have even less time now than I did then.
sam: You are putting yourself in a terrific position to be French kissed.
A.B.: Unfortunately, your prediction turned out to be inaccurate. The red hair is Polish, though, rather than Irish, so perhaps that explains it.
chris: Actually, I approve of “Google” as a verb. Can you imagine how much more difficult modern life would be if we had to go around saying “photocopy” instead of “xerox”? I look forward to the day we don’t even capitalize it anymore.
matt: The fairy gold was our special game. You weren’t supposed to tell anybody about it.
bhoygary: Is that because you’ve been drunk every time it rolls around, or do you simply temporarily cease to exist on that date?
Uncle Zoloft: Say the word, and all those things are yours.
Chris: he knows better than to pounce on me. I’m a big scary lesbian and I know terrible secrets from his chequered past.
Dr. Faustus: too late (to borrow a phrase from Igor in “Young Frankenstein”). Also, I don’t capitalize it, except when using it at the beginning of a sentence, as above.
Actually, “google” as a verb is one of my favorite additions to the modern lexicon, for two reasons.
First, “to google x” replaces the awkward phrase, “to search on the internet for x,” which, with its double prepositional structure, is fraught with potential grammatical pitfalls.
Second, I remember the exact moment when “google” (as a verb) entered my vocabulary: in “Maid in Manhattan,” Jennifer Lopez’s character (who is much more appealing than her public persona as an actress) says to her son, “I don’t know, honey; you can google it when you get to school.” Those of you who are not too snobby and/or gay to appreciate the fine attributes of Jennifer Lopez will understand why this sweetens the word for me, providing the tiniest little frisson of delight whenver I hear or say it.
And that’s all I have to say on these topics. At least for now.
Oh poor Faustus, we here in Australia and the rest of the civilised world *do* say photocopy instead of xerox. Xerox is an Americanism because Americans are dim and need short words. There. I said it. We say ‘photocopy’ happily and our world goes merrily.
As far as I can tell, google as a verb was started by loser computer news journalists who wanted to sound important and cool. Then it was picked up by loser mainstream journalists who wanted to sound cool and not completely out of the loop with technology and young people.
birdfarm: would you like to join my bowling team?
How is it one is supposed to properly introduce onself in the online world? I am still trying to get the hang of it….I was directed to this blog from the website and I was directed to the website from the book.
I just wanted to say that I would have very similar reactions to anyone who misspelled “embarrassed” or said Mansfield Park was boring.
I sported a neon green wig on St. Patrick’s Day, which apparently turned me into a leprechaun and made people tip their hats to me.