OK, where the hell does English get its words? And why must my mind continually worry these questions like a tongue working a loose tooth which hangs by a thread, yet refuses to fully commit to taking the plunge?
Cockroach, for instance. Did the first roach spotted by English eyes bear an undeniable resemblance to a rooster, and therefore necessitate this specific prefix to distinguish it from the non-cock variety? [ex. "I just stepped on the biggest roach." "Did it look like a cock?" "No, dude, if it had, I would have said I just stepped on the biggest cockroach. Don't you listen when people speak?"]
Dictator. Hilarious word to describe a heinous human being. Major cognitive dissonance here. Also, am defeated by this word because I dissolve into fits of hysteria at the mere mention of it. I kind of feel like I should have grown beyond this somewhere around 6th grade. High school at the latest.
Did you know that the word "literally" means both "actually" and "virtually"? Don't believe me? It's in the dictionary. So, a word which means both itself and its polar opposite. Got it. I think.
Titmouse. Now you're just f-ing with me.
Midwife, anyone? Is she working her way up to being a full wife? Was there, at some point, a quarterwife? And just exactly what did she have to do to be promoted to midwife? Never mind, I don't want to know. OK, maybe I do. No, wait. Shit. I'll have to get back to you on that one.
Yet another thing to occupy my mind. Thanks a lot, English language.
