Fun with Latin

Today I was reminded of this movie. Damnation is it funny. We had it on Betamax back in the day, and I must have watched it 10 times before I entered puberty. I just found out today that Marty Feldman, may he rest in peace, directed it.

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No, sir, 12 is better. And you really should include a link to your music account.

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Today at work I returned to a theme that's come up several times: my profound wish to learn how to use projectile vomiting as a form of self-expression.

Think of how useful this skill would be. I don't like your writing? A squirt of vomit right to the face. You cut in front of me and then walk slowly? A squirt of vomit right to the back of your head, and possibly into your handbag. You neglect to remove your backpack in a crowded subway car? Blammo! Your hair is now dripping with my unique mixture of bile and energy drink. You cross me? I will blind you with stomach acid.

So today a colleague and I discussed projectile vomiting and ended up finding some fun phrases:

"Semper Puke"
"In puke-o, veritas" (This was his, by the way, and as far as I know he doesn't read my blog.)
"Deus ex vomita"
"Carpe vomitum"

Plus a few others I can't remember right now, for it's been a long day.

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I saw an unhappy couple on the train today. She was pretty but sulky. He was hot as a damned firecracker and had laugh lines. From what I could tell, she did not like that he'd noticed someone other than her on the train. He responded with a sigh, and then silence. People are silly.

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A different colleague has found amusement in recommending a new cure for my cough each day. Yesterday he said he had some leftover old-timey liniment I could use. Today he asked if I'd been bled and offered to lend me some leeches.

But seriously, yo. This cough is revolting, and I'm only three-quarters joking when I say it's caused -- or at least exacerbated -- by evil humours. I need a lung vacuum.