Saturday vocabulary fun: "myrtling" and "doulies"

[swag]

"Myrtling" is what you're doing when you fart and a bit of poop comes out along with your fart. Imagine Myrtle doing this.

"Doulies," alternately "doolies," are leftovers in bottles, glasses, and on plates after a party. If you go around drinking the two inches of beer in bottles (watch out for floating butts!) and eating the yummy bits off of abandoned guest plates, you are "cleaning up the doulies." You may do this if you are "hitting rock bottom."

[swag]

1. Kick for truth and beauty!

[Cyndee_Lou_Who]

2. Myrtling results in a 'shart' then, huh?

[swag]

4. Yes, that's correct. A shart is the outcome of myrtling.

[hfojvt]

3. Imagine Myrtle Dooley cleaning up the doulies, and

...

I cannot find that word in my unabridged. It does have "myrtaceous" which means "belonging to the myrtle family of plants" and "mysophobia" which is a "fear of dirt or filth"
Also, I noticed that the myrtle is "used as an emblem of love and was anciently held to be sacred to Venus.
It is funny how much space this dictionary gives to Greek mythology. On the same page is a definition for "Mysia" who was "an epithet of Demeter" but I guess it was also an "ancient country in NW Asia minor"

[GirlinContempt]

5. Do you ever

doulie the myrtles?

[swag]

6. Now that would be after a special party indeed.

[libodem]

7. gross

yuck,,,,just yuck.

[swag]

9. Yeah, I know.

But I've heard it even happens in Idaho.

[bridgit]

8. "doolies" = back wash...

"myrtling" = wet fart, in our part of town :shrug:

[swag]

10. What town you from, sister?

[bridgit]

11. Tatter Town ~

I recall one sleep filled night in particular. And of course there were others. But none like this one. So very unlike a night filled with troubled or contentious sleep. Strange and: disjointed dreams. This was ‘just’ a night filled, otherwise, with rest. As sleep is meant: to be.

This ‘otherwise’ restful night I recall because of the way in which I was awakened. When…while within this sleep I recall with a clear specificity a cool, steady, and directed ‘wind’…for lack of a better word. A cool, steady wind being directed with a great tenderness onto my forehead atop my: Third Eye.

My recollection from my sleep state was that this was a pleasant wind because I smiled before I opened my eyes. Being conscious I should say of a smile being on my face as I was being lifted up through the levels of sleep and into this world, as we know it: you & I.

But it was then that I opened my eyes to behold The Face of an Angel…

The Face of an: Angel. Beautiful and kind blue eyes filled with spirit, soul, compassion near & close enough to see every detail of The Angel’s Face; the room behind and all around, my room bathed in Light! Light! All around. With an ethereal breeze moving gently through The Angel’s beautiful hair the color of honey. Oh…and by the way…full cherry lips from which The Angel did emanate still It’s cool, steady, and directed wind onto my Third Eye as I searched, awestruck though without any apprehension whatsoever The Beauty of The Angel’s Face before me.

Wondering as to whether I should, as to whether I could; as to whether I could be somehow worthy I did. I looked into The Angel’s Eyes. It was here. This very: moment. This very split instant that I knew. It, The Angel, was already looking into mine. Only waiting for me to open my eyes and see.

This moment with my Angel was for me timeless filled with peace, tranquility, wholeness, and well/being.

Timeless sooner still when The Angel, my Angel; through The Angel’s full cherry lips The Angel did impart to me wordlessly from the midst of this cool, steady, and directed wind entering now through my Third Eye and into my mind, my spirit a thought. A notion. The Angel’s Notion this to me:

“It is easier to fly when you take yourself lightly.”

Sooner still as the import of this most simple of ethereal truths took flight itself within my spirit the sight of my Angel’s Face in the center of my mind gently I lay back onto my pillow as though dreaming anew when came the tears of joy. Streaming from the corners of my eyes a cool, steady, and directed Angelic Wind blowing still bathing my forehead I thanked God for visitations. Filled with oceans of vast peace, tranquility, wholeness and well/being. Or The Creator where God may seem too lofty, any ‘creator’ for the most random firing of the most obscure of: neural synapse.

And so…as is the way of this world…

If while in time the wind trailed itself gently off and away. Where I was remained and filled with peace I reentered the world in the fullness of time reentered my life, as we know it: you & I.

Though this…this was many years ago now so that today I wrote the words to a song. Maybe someday when I ‘own’ a musical instrument I will arrange the music as well ~

Tatter Town

Baby, please
Oh, my Darling Girl
Take me home
To Tatter Town

My Angel sings
They love me there
I’m going home
To Tatter Town

Allay, allay…

(Children’s bkgrd refrain 3-pt hrmy)

We’re lost & found
You me you me
In Tat-Ter Town
You me you me
You me you ME
We’re lost & found
In Tatter Town
Allay alley…]

This world so hard so ancient old
So lost so never found so all alone
Is filled with hearts so hard and yet
With some so tender near

They care for me this I know
My friends with Sake warm
Enigma this I care for them
They see that I am whole of heart

We’re lost & found
You me you me
In Tat-Ter Town
You me you me
You me you ME
We’re lost & found
In Tatter Town
Allay alley…]

Baby, please
Oh, my Darling Girl
Take me home
To Tatter Town

My Angel sings
They love me there
I’m going home
To Tatter Town

Allay, allay…

When soon The Angel’s Wind will blow
Cool & steady, tender near
Roll the ocean’s tied upon I have a heart
The earth so hard so void without form allay

Allay, allay
Baby, please…
Allay, allay
Oh, my Darling Girl…
Allay, allay
My Angel sings,
“They love you there. Allay, allay.”
You me you me
We’re lost & found
Please my Angel Fair
Please take me home
They love me here
They love me there
Home...
To Tatter Town

[swag]

12. Gee. Well that trumps Portland, so I'll go with your definitions.

Consider this thread cancelled.

[bridgit]

13. i've been to portland...

still have friends living there

[swag]

14. When were you here?

[bridgit]

15. 99 ~ 2000...

[swag]

16. Hm. I can't see how I missed you.

Maybe I was too busy with all that irrational exuberance and Y2K stuff. Better luck to me next time, I guess.

[bridgit]

19. eh, you're doing fine...

i tend to move in small elegant circles (not that yours aren't) and so i come & go on business en route to seattle or bainbridge island shit like that when i go up northern tissue way :hi:

[tjwmason]

17. As a potentially related aside

Myrtille is the French for blueberry - and one has to admit that they do somewhat resemble in appearence myrtles.

I'm just glad to discover that I haven't eaten poo jam when in France.

[swag]

18. Oh, I know

the poo jam in Belgium is far superior.

Just don't ask for it in French in Bruges. They'll crucify you.