Category Archives: anthimeria

Anthimeria

Posted on March 9, 2025 | Leave a comment

(an-thi-mer’-i-a): Substitution of one part of speech for another (such as a noun used as a verb).

I am Doer. Who do? I do. I am do. Do-Man, the getter of things done. People call me “Do.” Not dude, but Do. I taped every episode of CHPs and made a secret shrine out in the woods where I go and yell “vroom vroom” at night. Then, I look around for criminals in the mall. I wear big black CHPs boots and wrap-around sunglasses. My favorite catch-phrase is “Roger that.” It is the kind of acknowledgement we all need to paper over the walls we build with muted blues and grays printed with snowmobiles and beach umbrellas—in short, images of hope. Everywhere you look in your living room—hope, hope, hope.

But you must find your own images and custom order them from “Rosy Wall” a manufacturer of custom wall coverings.

To each his own. Horses never say “Nay.”

Now it’s time to plan what Mr. Do will do today. Maybe I’ll make an ice sculpture with my lawnmower (I don’t have a chainsaw). Maybe I’ll hop on one foot out to the my mailbox. Maybe I’ll invent something. I’ve been thinking of something to open cans with. My screwdriver works, but not that well. Or maybe, I could invent an electric propeller to make oranges into juice. Hmmm. Maybe I could use my lawnmower to mow the snow off my driveway. I don’t know, there’s so much Mr. Do could do. Ooh. I know! I could take a shower with my dog Skipper. We could be like two birds killed with one stone!

POSTSCRIPT

Mr. Do should’ve been named Mr. Don’t. He never thought of consequences. He would be injured or scammed at least once a week, but the shower with Skipper was the end of the line. Skipper loved the shower. He jumped up on Do and put his paws on his shoulders. Do dropped his bar of soap and fell forward slipping on the soap and smashing his head on the shower faucet and falling through the tub enclosure’s glass doors. They found him slumped over the tub’s side. He was dead.

Definitions courtesy of “Silva Rhetoricae” (rhetoric.byu.edu).

The Daily Trope is available on Amazon in paperback under the title of The Book of Tropes for $9.95. It is also available in Kindle format for $5.99.

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Anthimeria

Posted on July 2, 2024 | Leave a comment

Anthimeria (an-thi-mer’-i-a): Substitution of one part of speech for another (such as a noun used as a verb).

He was a goer—always tapping one foot and looking at the sky. My mother had dropped him on his head three times when he was a baby. The first time it happened she was trying to mix a gin and tonic. She blamed Sylvester for “moving” as if babies weren’t supposed to move. The second time she dropped Sylvester, she was trying to unlock and open the car door, which took two hands. The third time she was holding Sylvester’s hands while she spun around. Although, technically not a drop, she sneezed and let go of Sylvester and he landed in Dad’s prize rose bush. Sylvester was scratched by the bush, but didn’t bleed much.

Sylvester’s “falls” didn’t seem to affect him in any critical ways. Instead of a backpack, he wore a parachute. Instead of a ball cap, he wore a motorcycle helmet. He wore a first aid kit on his belt and kept his cellphone pre-dialed to 911 in case he fell and couldn’t get up. Lately, he’s started growling at things that are red. He had a fit over a radish, foaming at the mouth and scratching himself. Yesterday, he saw some strawberries in the refrigerator and went berserk. He growled and foamed and peed into the refrigerator. That did it,

We were sure his behavior was due to his head injuries. We took him to Dr. Grinder, a noteworthy psychologist specializing in people with mental difficulties. Sylvester was rolling in mental difficulties. After two years, Dr. Grinder determined that everything was my mother’s fault. She showed no remorse until the Doctor told her she should pay reparations for what she had done. She exploded with rage. She pushed Sylvester to the office’s forty-story window. “You wanna hit your head big time?” She yelled at Sylvester. “Yes” he quietly said. My mother shoved him out the window. You could hear him laughing, and then there was a popping sound—it was Sylvester’s parachute deploying! We also heard sirens—Sylvester had hit his pre-dialed 911 and the police were on the way.

My mother was remanded to the “Penal Home for the Criminally Insane.” She is not permitted to carry anything breakable. She has a rubber doll she calls “Sylvester” and throws on the floor repeatedly.

Sylvester is totally cured (of what we’re not sure). He has stopped growling and does not wear his “falling down” equipment any more. In fact, he met a woman who is a professional high-diver. He jokingly says they are making a big splash.

Definition courtesy of “Silva Rhetoricae” (rhetoric.byu.edu)

The Daily Trope is available on Amazon in paperback under the title of The Book of Tropes for $9.95. It is also available in Kindle format for $5.99.

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Anthimeria

Posted on November 23, 2023 | Leave a comment

Anthimeria (an-thi-mer’-i-a): Substitution of one part of speech for another (such as a noun used as a verb).

I’m a trucker. I truck my way along the highways and byways in the plush cab of my Peter-Built mobile. I just drive. I don’t ask what I’m carrying. I pick it up and drop it off. Sure, I have a bill of lading, but I ignore it. The company I drive for likes that, and I don’t care why. I’ve got six months before my resignation kicks in. I’ll miss the sights I’ve seen ridin’ the roads of America. Once I pulled over to take a whizz and stumbled across a group of people in a field. There was about 50 of them and they were tickling each other—rolling around, standing up, crawling through the dirt. They were dressed like panda bears, with different-colored pastel costumes. There was a lime-line circle drawn around them that they couldn’t overstep or they were out. A sweaty pink panda came up to me and asked if I wanted tickle. As far as I could see, that wasn’t permitted—we were outside the circle and I didn’t have a panda suit. She said “Good answer” and started tickling me. Her hands were like magic. They flowed over my body lie hot oatmeal. I laughed until I peed my pants. It took me an hour to find my truck. Luckily I carried a couple of changes of clothes. I was pulling on my clean pants when she popped up at the passenger-side window. She had removed her panda suit and she was beautiful. She said her name was Lolly and she needed a ride. She had a small carry-on bag and a black purse—that was it.

I let her in the truck and she slid over close to me. It felt good. We sang a few rounds of “Old MacDonald’s Farm” and she jumped out the truck window at 70 MPH. I threw her stuff out the window and kept driving. I have learned a long time ago not to get involved—especially in something like this. I needed coffee.

I pulled into the truck stop and there she was standing outside with her bags. I was shocked. I didn’t know what to do. I tried to walk past and ignore her. She pulled her panda suit out of her bag. She yelled: “You had your chance. We could’ve done the panda dance, you wimp! You chickened out!” Then, I noticed people were walking past like there was nothing there. There was nothing there! Then, I realized I had taken an extra dose of benzedrine to get through the night’s drive to Bakersfield. I never should’ve done it, but I did. The last time I did this, I started driving across the Pacific Ocean to Japan. When I snapped out of it, I was driving on Rte. 80 through the Delaware Water Gap. I shook it in a couple of hours, as the sun was coming up.

POSTSCRIPT

It’s lonely out there on the road. All you have is the asphalt ribbon stretching out in front of you and the hallucinations you induce when you snort a pile of speed every 2 or 3 truck stops. My heart longs for Panda Girl, but I know I can’t choose my hallucinations. Two days ago, I drove to Tacoma with a sloth hanging from my sun visor.

Definition courtesy of “Silva Rhetoricae” (rhetoric.byu.edu)

The Daily Trope is available on Amazon in paperback under the title of The Book of Tropes for $9.95. It is also available in Kindle format for $5.99.

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Anthimeria

Posted on April 9, 2023 | Leave a comment

Anthimeria (an-thi-mer’-i-a): Substitution of one part of speech for another (such as a noun used as a verb).

He was a real swinger. It was the 70s and that’s what everybody I knew wanted to be. A swinger. Which meant a cool, fun seeking, loose moraled fun seeker. It also meant they were open to a variety of sexual activities involving more than two people.

Eddie was an archetypal swinger. White disco suit with bell bottoms, swashbuckler shoes, big collared shirt unbuttoned halfway down, wide belt, and a pimp hat with a mirrored hat band and purple ostrich feather. Also, he wore three rings on each hand and a coke spoon hanging on a gold chain around his neck. Eddie made The Bee Gees look like 2-bit punks in comparison to him. He looked like he should’ve been the star of “Saturday Night Fever” instead of John Travolta.

While he could put on the clothes, and look the part, that’s as far as it went for Eddie. He couldn’t dance. He’d never snort coke. He couldn’t be cool. He was Halloweening. He was dressing up. It was all just a costume. He was off the rack. Then one night a real swinger invited Eddie to “do the dance” with him and his girlfriend. When the certified swinger said it, it was like it made Eddie’s purple plume stand up straight..

Eddie hiked his pants up and said “Ok man. Let’s make it happen, baby.” And off they went.

We had to bail Eddie out. He ended up “acting” in an adult film titled “Disco Swingers.” All the camera equipment was concealed behind the wall, shooting through a peephole. The police had somehow been tipped off and everybody was arrested. Eddie was completely freaked out. He dropped his swinger look and went back to jeans and a t-shirt. He was found not guilty due to being entrapped. After that, John Travolta got fat and the disco-swinger fad lost direction and died. Punk music emerged along with a certain FU sensibility. Johnny Rotten led the way and Eddie followed. He tore his blue-jean jacket, had a buzz cut on his head, wore safety pins in his newly pierced ears and motorcycle boots on his feet, had himself tattooed with the anarchy symbol, and frequently yelled “bollocks” at people for no reason. He sang the praises of “stickin’ it to the man.”

Now it’s the 21st century. Eddie claims he’s the oldest rapper on earth. He calls himself “Savage Tricky.” He does rap versions of doo-wop songs from the late 1950s to the early 1960s. “Blue Moon” is his signature song. He’s 72 years old and sits during his sets. He performs mainly at open mike clubs where “stinks” is the most frequently used adjective to describe his performances.

Don’t pity Eddie. He did this to himself.

Definition courtesy of “Silva Rhetoricae” (rhetoric.byu.edu).

Buy a print edition of The Daily Trope! The print edition is entitled The Book of Tropes and is available on Amazon for $9.99.

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Anthimeria

Posted on August 9, 2022 | Leave a comment

Anthimeria (an-thi-mer’-i-a): Substitution of one part of speech for another (such as a noun used as a verb).

He was a human “Ho-Ho.” I can’t explain it, but every time I saw Milt I started to laugh. Maybe my laughter came from basic meanness or some kind of incongruity between Milt and the way we’re supposed to look, and the way he looked. Milt must’ve dressed in the dark every morning. One day he showed up at work wearing one black polartec slipper and one patent leather dress shoe, red sweat pants, plaid flannel shirt, a blue necktie with a picture of a smiling Jesus on it, and a hat advertising baked beans. Standing there with his Tiger Wood coffee mug, he gave me a big smile and said “Hi Jim.” I tried to return the greeting, but I started uncontrollably sucking in air and my nose started snoffelling and my throat contracted, then, bam, out came a chuckle that turned into a guffaw, that turned into a roaring belly laugh. After it all subsided, I apologized to Milt and started to walk away. “Wait a minute,” he said. He told me he suffered from sartorial dyslexia (SD): an inability to dress right due to a genetically-based chemical imbalance in the part of the brain that processes wardrobe choices. He told me he inherited it, and that family gatherings were like fashion shows without fashion—everything from bathing suits with sports coats, to total nudity with one black Blundstone, and an Apple Watch. I was totally taken by surprise that Milt had a disease that prompted his bizarre clothing choices. I asked him if there was some kind of foundation I could donate to that helps people suffering from SD. He told me the most help I could give was to “Walk in my shoe for a day.”

So, the next morning I dressed in the dark—putting on whatever came to hand, whenever it came to hand. I ended up leaving the house with a Beatle boot on one foot and a penny loafer on the other, blue compression pants, a hunter orange polartec vest, and a navy-blue necktie with ducks on it (neckties were required at work). When I stepped out my door I instantly noticed that people were staring at me, some were laughing and pointing, same were yelling mean taunts—“Where’d you get dressed? In a blender?” That was the rudest. I didn’t even get to the subway before turning around and running with a shoe-induced limp back to my apartment. When I got there, I tore off my clothes and took a shower. I felt so bad for Milt.

I moved in with him and became his “dresser.” I would properly dress him every morning before we went to work. I even went to one of his family gatherings. It was a combination of a mescaline-induced Mardi Gras and a Hieronymus Bosch painting. I loved it! Anyway, we fell in love and got married. Every once-in-awhile, I get dressed in the dark and we drink beer, and we dance around the apartment and laugh.

Definition courtesy of “Silva Rhetoricae” (rhetoric.byu.edu).

Buy a print edition of The Daily Trope! The print edition is entitled The Book of Tropes and is available on Amazon for $9.99.

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Anthimeria

Posted on December 19, 2021 | Comments Off

Anthimeria (an-thi-mer’-i-a): Substitution of one part of speech for another (such as a noun used as a verb).

He holly-jollyed his way into the office, red suit mistletoed from top to bottom and wearing one of those stupid red conical hats with a white pom-pom tassel. His black boots made of vinyl, with gold plastic buckles, made me sick. And I thought, the big wide black patent leather belt would work well to strangle him. When he said “Ho, Ho, Ho” he sounded like he was counting the prostitutes who hang out in front of our building. Then he threw a candy cane at me, hitting me in the eye. That was his idea of gifting. I wanted to kill him, but he was the boss. And besides, I would surely be caught.

Now we had to drink his disgusting homemade eggnog. I felt like I was in Jonestown. He poured two bottles of rum into the punch bowl to “enhance” the egg nog. In about 30 minutes everybody was drunk, slurring their words, and rubbing against each other. Truly weird as we tried to sing “Jingle Bells.” A couple of people were draped over their desks and Harry Little was passed out on the floor. Then I saw Marla Gino standing by an open window with her blouse unbuttoned beckoning the boss by moving her shoulders back and forth. As I watched the boss stagger toward her, I realized why the window was opened—we were 15 stories up. The fall would kill the boss. Everyone who could still stand, silently watched the boss stagger toward Marla’s hypnotic gestures.

Marla stepped away from the window at the last second and the boss tripped. He flew out the window without a sound. Everybody started singing “Jingle Bells” and Marla called 911.

Definition courtesy of “Silva Rhetoricae” (rhetoric.byu.edu).

Buy a print edition of The Daily Trope! The print edition is entitled The Book of Tropes and is available on Amazon for $9.99.

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Posted in anthimeria

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Anthimeria

Posted on April 6, 2021 | Comments Off

Anthimeria (an-thi-mer’-i-a): Substitution of one part of speech for another (such as a noun used as a verb).

He peanut-buttered his way to oblivion. He was a greedy grabber—everything in excess, everything over the top, everything.

He was found stuck behind the wheel of his car—a car filled with sliced bread and jars of peanut butter—turned on its side on a country road in South New Jersey, somewhere outside of Atlantic City. State Police say that if he had been eating crunchy, and not creamy, his hands would not have stuck to the wheel when he tried to avoid a carload of drunken teenagers swerving across the road.

Death due to peanut butter and reckless teens. It is so wrong. But in death he has earned his nickname: Skippy. As we lower him into the earth, in his casket made to look like two giant slices of white bread, let us bow our heads and smell the peanut butter in the soft spring air.

Definition courtesy of “Silva Rhetoricae” (rhetoric.byu.edu).

Buy a print edition of The Daily Trope! The print edition is entitled The Book of Tropes and is available on Amazon for $9.99.

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Anthimeria

Posted on March 8, 2018 | Leave a comment

Anthimeria (an-thi-mer’-i-a): Substitution of one part of speech for another (such as a noun used as a verb).

Trump has porn starred his way to to a whole new level of impropriety. Sure, he had sex with her before he was President. But what the hell does that matter. He cheated on his wife with a porn star while Melania sat home patting her baby bump.

As the dribs and drabs of the despicable personal life Trump leads come out, and his treatment of women as sex objects is made public, one wonders what’s next. Will it be a Roy Moore mockery? A Carlos Danger defection? An Eliot Spitzer $15,000 hooker blitzer?

Or, do we just end up with the Donald Trump Hump-a-Dump–a sexually charged dance routine on Saturday Night Live? Alec Baldwin–are you ready to Trump Hump-a-Dump?

Definition courtesy of “Silva Rhetoricae” (rhetoric.byu.edu).

Buy a print edition of The Daily Trope! The print edition is entitled The Book of Tropes and is available on Amazon for $9.99.