Like oil and water, some words just don’t mix.
For anyone who’s actually HAD a cracked tooth, there isn’t much more needed to be said. For those who are fortunate enough to have skirted the trauma, I can assure you it is a pain to rival most. This is especially true if you crack a molar.
Exposed nerves = bad.
My disdain for veggie burgers has less to do with me being omnivorous, and more to do with the questions I’ve always had for the marketing toward vegetarians and vegans in general. Am I the only one who is insulted by the fact that most all vegetarian products are named and advertised as though its consumers were two years old?
Whether we’re talking about Tofurkey, Rice Dream, Silk or Veat, I can’t help picture the marketing teams at these companies all gathered around their fake jiggling turkey in awe, and then coming up with the first word that came to their minds. Then they all giggled and then called the graphic designers to put some cute box art together for distribution.
And I’ll close by saying I still don’t understand why vegans and vegetarians pine for meatless meats so vicariously. Isn’t the very idea of abstaining from eating meat to do just that? Why shape your tofu to look and taste like the thing you’re supposed to have given up? Just eat the vegetables, skip the veggie burger. Sheesh.
Maybe since I haven’t been a bachelor since 5th grade, I’m not qualified to understand why this term is so widely used and easily accepted.
Do people who live in “bachelor pads” really think they’re cool? Or are they so past the point of desperation they feel that dubbing their Ikea-clad condos with a hip name might help them sleep at night, even if it doesn’t help them score some chicks?
Or maybe “bachelor pad” is simply a term used by the parents of the guys who live in them, used when talking to their other empty nester friends about their sons accomplishments over t-bone steak and red wine?
Whatever the case, I just don’t get it.
It’s not that I don’t enjoy using them, but having to ask for a “moist towelette” by name ironically makes me feel dirty inside. Couldn’t they have gone with a “damp tissue” or something that doesn’t employ such yucky connotations?
Just thinking about these two words together puts a sheen of sweat across my forehead.
Gross.
You don’t like to bite into an apple and find it soggy, do you? Well then why is it that every time I bite into a sandwich, the tomato is crispy as an apple?
When I lived in California, I remember they were always ripe and delicious. But here in the midwest, it’s near impossible to get a good tomato.
It’s happened to the best of us. Maybe your friends convinced you to jump in the lake fully clothed. Or maybe you were in a rush that one morning and the jeans didn’t quite get dry.
Needless to say, nobody likes their denim wet, least of all yours truly. Images of chafed thighs and sticky flesh (two great examples of other bad word pairs) just makes me cringe.
Now, to be clear, this is not a slander against the people who wear adult braces, but more the image it conjures in my mind. I think I probably don’t dislike the words uttered as much as the wearers of adult braces, but it’s hard not to see them and pass a superficial judgement, however shallow that sounds of me. Maybe I just could not imagine MYSELF wearing them.
As an aside, however, adult braces do lead to a much more pleasant word pairing: “straight teeth”, so it’s not all bad on the orthodontic front.