Scrabble Anyone

After reading a list of new words entering the American lexicon since 2009, I couldn't stop myself from writing this little story.


Scrabble Anyone?

There I was crowd mining at the post premiere party of the latest mockumentary from a mockumentarist buddy of mine when he saw me eyeing a hockey mom, e-smoker, puffing on her e-cigarette and decided I needed a hetero hug which he eventized forthwith.

The mom who was not really a part of the LGBT crowd that normally frequented this sort of thing, but had recently been divorced and was now niche dating was more comfortable with homedulgence and weisure. I could tell she was O generation and as she returned my glance I could feel her mind casting. I broke free from my Buddie's hip hop hug, which he was clinging to a bit too long for my taste, and sidled on over to the octomom.

After some small talk about bet dieting, carborexia, e-book readers and car czars, we got down to grittier subjects like scroogeonomics, slackonomics and TARP. She said she tried to keep up on what was going down even though she was on a staycation recovering from a bout of H1N1. I told her I had recently been Madoffed, but was still liquid and I was familiar with kabbalese.

With that she whipped out her Palm Pre and p-book, and made a note having to do with her ZIRP. We were both getting premobolan at that point, so we run-walked to her place. No slumdog this lady, her pad was nicely appointed and while we gabbed about flotsametrics and womenomics and cyberwarfare, our passions rose until it was time to set up the SLR and film what turned out to be a great yogasm.

The next morning I offered to cook bacon and eggs but she said she was a VB6.

(Go to the blog before this to read a real story.)