MOIST (heh)!

Miscellaneous and Personal Stuff I Must Share
101

[QUOTE=Mindfield]
Congratulations! You have achieved semantic saturation. Now you must move on to the next word: Stipple.
[/QUOTE]

First moisten the beard with warm water.
Then lightly stipple the shaving cream on with the brush.
Draw the blade slowly, yet firmly across the beard.
Remember to go with the grain, not against.
If the blade pulls or does not cut, rinse and dry the blade.
Run the blade up and down a good strop until it is rehoned.

Strop

Ssstr… Ahh… Ppt

STROP! STROP! STROP!

Hone

:cool:

102

[QUOTE=lieu]
Moist taint mucus.

Nope, pretty sure I’ve never strung those three together before.
[/QUOTE]

Stringy moist taint mucus?

103

[QUOTE=nd_n8]
Stringy moist taint mucus?
[/QUOTE]

Eeww. That’s…ew. See a doctor. Call an ambulance. Get a flamethrower.
grapple.

Now, there’s a word. Say it…grapplegrapplegrapple…in fact, any “apple” word. Snapple, scrapple, grapple.

104

Hey! Hey, guys! Do I get extra points for using “moist” in a totally nongratuitous context elsewhere?

Guys? Hey guys! Guys?

Also, “pamplemousse” has been one of my favorite words since even *before *my buds and me declared “moist” the ultimate squick. “Pamplemousse” rox.

Now if you need a word to drain of meaning, try “wheelbarrow”.

wheelbarrow wheelbarrow wheelbarrow wheelbarrow wheelbarrow wheelbarrow wheelbarrow wheelbarrow wheelbarrow wheelbarrow wheelbarrow wheelbarrow wheelbarrow

105

Exquisite.

Now, that’s one sexy word right there. Oh, yes.

106

Banana. Best word ever. The first runner up is squirrel.

My least favorite word is metastasize. Not just because of what it means, either. It’s just an ugly word.

Put me down on the “hate” side of moist.

107

Kumquat?

108

Marrrrrrgarine.

109

Spatula

110

Tuberculosis
Oops, sorry, I thought this was the Bulbous Bouffant thread.

111

With my upcoming nuptials, I’ve recently noticed the oddness of the word “nuptials”.

It’s really hard to say and sounds vaguely dirty.

nuptialsnuptialsnuptialsnuptials.

112

I like my oysters moister than I like my potato chips.

I like my clams–I like them moist, too.

113

Bezoar and vomer.

Two words that I learned in Med Term class that both intrigue and repel me.

114

I’ve always been partial to the word Euphonious.

It doesn’t really lend itsself to being written in a stretched out form, though.

euphonious

115

[QUOTE=eleanorigby]
No, no, no–defenestrate. I love the word defenestrate. Can someone use all the words of choice here in a sentence?
[/QUOTE]
Maybe? I’ll get them started: The nun wore her hair a snood, and unfortunately she also had an unfortunate mucus problem that left her with moist panties and slacks, but once she was defenstrated…

Moist is okay. I think of cake, brownies and the band. But I don’t like the word bucolic. I know what it means, but it shouldn’t - it ought to mean something damp, dripping and filled with pestilence. Like an unmaintained subway tunnel. And it makes my stomach kind of hurt thinking about it. Bucolic. Doesn’t it sound like you’re about to vomit?

116

[QUOTE=Spectre of Pithecanthropus]
I like my oysters moister than I like my potato chips.

I like my clams–I like them moist, too.
[/QUOTE]

Oh yeah, and I like them ZESTY. Moist, zesty oysters. There’s nothing better.

117

Oyters and clams, yum! Zesty oysters and clams, yuummm!!

Zesty. I likes that word. Zesty Zesty Zesty!

118

Obfuscate your zesty, moist clams.

119

[QUOTE=Belrix]
With my upcoming nuptials, I’ve recently noticed the oddness of the word “nuptials”.

It’s really hard to say and sounds vaguely dirty.
[/QUOTE]
Sometimes, when it’s cold and the dry cleaners has used too much starch, it make my nuptials hurt.

120

Zesty shouldn’t even be a real word. It’s like some sort of 1950’s-style marketing term. Make your cake zesty with Spong brand pastry filler!

Spong. I know it’s a name but… spong spong spong
:: jumps up and down ::
spong spong spong spong spong spong spong spong spong spong spong spong spong spong spong