Category Archives: aposiopesis

Aposiopesis

Aposiopesis (a-pos-i-o-pee’-sis): Breaking off suddenly in the middle of speaking, usually to portray being overcome with emotion.


There was a, a, a . . . Oh God. There was a set of hedge clippers on the floor by my bed when I woke up this morning. I think they’re sending me a message from my boyfriend Carl. He is starting to scare me. He insists that I shave my pubic hair. He thinks my pubes are ugly, like weeds growing out of a crack in the sidewalk. Oh, how can . . . How can he be so rude and uncaring and insensitive. I tried tit for tat: you shave yours and I’ll shave mine. He just laughed and pretended he was holding an electric shaver, going “zzzzzz” and said “let’s tidy up your weed patch.”

I never thought that something like this would be the death knell of our relationship. I was willing to clear my underbrush, but he wasn’t willing to clear his: it takes two to tango & I’m tired of being bossed around by a nitwit who does not respect my autonomy and does not really . . . really care about how I feel. I want a man whose interest in me extends beyond my crotch and takes into account my intelligence, kindness, and my pony, Fetch.


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

Print and Kindle editions of The Daily Trope are available on Amazon under the title The Book of Tropes.

Aposiopesis

Aposiopesis (a-pos-i-o-pee’-sis): Breaking off suddenly in the middle of speaking, usually to portray being overcome with emotion.


It’s Thanksgiving again and I’ve got to spend the day with the gaggle of morons called “my family.” There’s Roger my brother who is the most wicked farter in the United States of America. It’s so bad, the rotten egg smell follows him around like a miasma from the Edgar Allen Poe story: “The Murder of the Bellicose Butt.” Then there’s my sister Annette. At the slightest provocation she cries and pulls her hair and asks God to “kill them all.” The last time it happened was at CVS. She was looking at hair dye and I said in a dazzling pun, “Are you dying for a new color?” She went berserk—sobbing uncontrollably and yelling, “Hair I am. Hairs my life. I might as well commit hairy carry. You should. . .try to . . . God, kill them all.” I put my arm around her and we slowly walked out of CVS.

Are you getting an idea of the joys of Thanksgiving at my house? No? Then how about this:

There’s Aunt Venice. Her name should clue you in to her weirdness. She changed her name from Betty after she saw “Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade,” which is set in Venice. I never understood it, but it is what it is. She thinks it’s funny to ask me about my penis: “How’s hangin?” is her favorite. But she has a repertoire: “Have you been letting you meat loaf, Clayton? You know Clayton, a hard man is good to find. You need to put some lead in your pencil, Clayton. When I frown she asks: “Do you have a boner to pick with me?”

You can imagine! This has been going on since I was seventeen. It was bad enough to be a little confused about my sexuality, but it was worse when Venice came for Thanksgiving from Miami and plied me with her dick sayings, and now she was coming again. I am 25 and I still dread the banter. I just hope she won’t ask me to move to Miami again, like she did last year. I was thinking about asking her about her vagina as a counter to her dick jokes, but I was afraid to and decided it was inappropriate anyway. She’s family (my father’s sister), but she has some serious problems.

There’s more to the story, but enough is enough. You don’t want hear about Mom and Dad and their ongoing kickboxing tournament, or my Grandpa’s tattoos.


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

Print and Kindle editions of The Daily Trope are available on Amazon under the title The Book of Tropes.

Aposiopesis

Aposiopesis (a-pos-i-o-pee’-sis): Breaking off suddenly in the middle of speaking, usually to portray being overcome with emotion.


Then she told me to get . . . to get bent. I don’t even know what the hell “get bent” means, but she was really mad. She threw a bar of soap at me & it hurt like hell. Look at the bruise on my forehead!

I never should’ve called her husband a moron. I thought for sure she would agree with me! She’s been cheating on him with me for at least year and he doesn’t suspect a damn thing. That’s moronic, but she doesn’t think so. Damn!


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

Print and Kindle editions of The Daily Trope are available on Amazon under the title The Book of Tropes.

Aposiopesis

Aposiopesis (a-pos-i-o-pee’-sis): Breaking off suddenly in the middle of speaking, usually to portray being overcome with emotion.

Person: You . . .  You’re President Trump! I can’t believe I’ve met you here . . . right here at Bear Bottoms! Best pole dancing club in Utah. Can I buy you a drink?

Him: No. Hmmm, uh, I thought this was a national monument–I’m looking for Bears Ears, not bottoms. I must’ve taken a wrong turn back there in Salt Lake City somewhere.

Person: But this is clearly a bar–and a sleazy one at that!  How could you possibly mistake it for a pair of mesas out in the middle of nowhere?

Him: Security! Take this guy for a walk.

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

Aposiopesis

Aposiopesis (a-pos-i-o-pee’-sis): Breaking off suddenly in the middle of speaking, usually to portray being overcome with emotion.

My hands are freezing. Little Joram is shivering in his stroller.  I can’t walk much farther in this frozen . . . it, it, it’s just not right.  Will they give us food and shelter? Will we be arrested? What will become of us? How far is the border?

  • Post your own aposiopesis on the “Comments” page!

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

Aposiopesis

Aposiopesis (a-pos-i-o-pee’-sis): Breaking off suddenly in the middle of speaking, usually to portray being overcome with emotion.

You what? You ran over our pet rabbit? You mean Little Bill–Billy’s . . . You monster. You murderer. Little Billy is dead and you killed him.

You were always jealous of Little Billy’s ‘special place’ on my lap and the cute squealing noises he made when I scratched his big fluffy ears.

The only time you ever squealed was when you fell off the front porch with martini number four in your hand.  I was hoping the toothpick in the olive poked your eye out, but it was the little pile of bunny poops you landed in that made you squeal.

Damn you. Get a paper bag and a shovel and I’ll meet you by the apple tree. Little Billy loved apples and I loved Little Billy. Damn you.

  • Post your own aposiopesis on the “Comments” page!

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

 

Aposiopesis

Aposiopesis (a-pos-i-o-pee’-sis): Breaking off suddenly in the middle of speaking, usually to portray being overcome with emotion.

10 years from now:

I am appalled that the media would bring up my fifth wife’s allegation that I routinely beat our toy poodle Scruffy with a garden hose! Little Scruffy–poor little guy. He was my best . . . my. . . my best . . . friend. Peachy hated Scruffy almost as much as she hates me!

Scruffy’s gone forever but her lies live on!

  • Post your own aposiopesis on the “Comments” page!

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

Aposiopesis

Aposiopesis (a-pos-i-o-pee’-sis): Breaking off suddenly in the middle of speaking, usually to portray being overcome with emotion.

I was driving to the mall to get my hair cut and a little bunny ran right out in front . . . I . . . I tried to . . . but . . . but  . . . it was awful. Poor little thing.

  • Post your own aposiopesis on the “Comments” page!

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

Aposiopesis

Aposiopesis (a-pos-i-o-pee’-sis): Breaking off suddenly in the middle of speaking, usually to portray being overcome with emotion.

And then the fire came over the hill right toward me–it was moving so fast–it was–oh, please, I can’t talk about it–it was–I can’t, I can’t–please turn off the camera!

  • Post your own aposiopesis on the “Comments” page!

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