Pound Your Elf a Bovine

I like words.  Like a whole lot.  Sometimes I like to find new and creative ways to use words.  I think that might be the result of excessive punnage at the family dinner table.  Seriously, we’ve had guests request road maps to navigate the conversations at family functions.

I REALLY like to make up new words and phrases.  (see use of ‘punnage’ above, also toe-gina)  That’s another family trait, I’m pretty sure.  Mom does it when she’s flustered.  In her rush to express herself she often speaks the two thoughts she’s thinking simultaneously.  (Example: “Like fish you are.”  While it sounds like Yoda offering guidance, it was actually used in a more threatening, “The Hell you are” kind of way.)  Dad does it when he’s forgotten his hearing aids.  If he doesn’t understand you, he repeats back a string of syllables that may or may not resemble your previous statement.  (Example: “Pound your elf into a bovine,” instead of “Drown yourself in more wine.”)  We’ve developed some pretty fantastic family sayings over the years.

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Here’s another family insight – My little brother and husband talk about poo quite a bit.  I don’t really understand why.  Neither of them comes into contact with an inordinate quantity of shit in their daily lives.  Neither owns a dog, has an infant, or works in a nursing home, but based on the frequency of feces as the primary topic under discussion, you’d think they spent every day of their lives in waders just to navigate through the copious volumes of crap they see.  So it should come as no surprise to learn that they both love the word shart.  It’s just disturbing to see two grown men, their six foot plus bodies doubled over, smacking each other in the arm and giggling wildly when one of them works shart into the conversation.

On one of my road trips this year, I drove through a little town called Shartlesville.  (I know, you’ve probably already beaten me to the punch, but just roll with me here.)  Even I had to giggle a little at the sight and I wondered how I could possibly get a photo of the sign for the two maturity stunted males I’d left in Jersey. But then I got to thinking, shartled should really be its own word.  To get the ball rolling, I’ve taken the liberty of preparing the entry for dictionary.com:


Shartle in a sentence: Don’t fire that gun or you’ll shartle your mother.

—verb (used with object)
1. to disturb or agitate suddenly as by surprise or alarm, resulting in a shart.
2. to cause to shart involuntarily, by or as by a sudden shock.
—verb (used without object)

3. to shart involuntarily, as from a shock of surprise or alarm.

4. a shart inducing sudden shock of surprise, alarm, or the like.
5. something that shartles.

Origin: summer 2009 as a result of Elly’s chemo brain wandering during a road trip to Virginia

I know, right?  Now remember, as your second grade teacher and Big Bird taught you, the best way to learn new words is to use them in a sentence.  Try and work shartle into at least one conversation today so that you can make it a permanent part of your vocabulary.

Today’s post was brought to you by the number 2.  You’re welcome.


  1. Shartle? Is my new favorite word.
    Also, didn’t know you were in NJ!! Would have totally stoppd by. I was born in Camden. I rarely admit this, for obvious reasons. 😉
    Assuming I will get to meet you at BlogHer ’10 NYC next Aug? I know, far away, but I need SOMETHING to look forward to!!
    .-= marymac´s last blog ..I Want to Fuck New York =-.

    1. Gold stars for you, Midget Man o’ Steel. Loved your whiskey girls blog, btw. We have a similar pack of gals roaming the bars of NYC, but they’re called Jager Girls. They also like to rock the plaid miniskirts. You and your drunk photog might need to take a field trip.

  2. I am so shartled by the news that you and MaryMac will both be at BlogHer that I… go without saying…

    Seriously? Both of you will be there? I actually registered even before I got to know anybody in the blogosphere. AND I even reserved a room at the hotel… Was that impulsive or what?

    p.s. I am totally using this word. AWESOME! Now got to go and tweet it.
    .-= submom´s last blog ..All things on cable TV considered, I wish my hotel had porn… =-.

  3. Umm…well my ass shartled me this morning.

    Yes. My ass. It failed to send any sort of “pre-warning/early alert” for the subsequent explosion.

    TMI. Yes. I think so.

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