Category Archives: ecphonesis

Ecphonesis

Posted on March 16, 2026 | Leave a comment

Ecphonesis (ec-pho-nee’-sis): An emotional exclamation.

“Leave me alone you fu*king scumbag! I’m gonna’ jam this toothbrush in your eye if you don’t fu*k off!” It was morning and I was in my bathroom yelling at the medicine cabinet mirror. I was unhealthy. I was convinced that I had myself under surveillance. Every morning, there I was watching me as I combed my hair, shaved, and brushed my teeth. I was only able to see myself watching me when I looked into a mirror. Otherwise, I just knew “I” was there.

“I” was out of sight, stalking me and playing dirty tricks on me. Yesterday I stepped on a piece of melting bubblegum. There’s no doubt that “I” caused it to happen. I’m not sure how, but I think I was pushed. I had to go to the shoe repair shop to have the gum removed from my shoe’s sole. When I showed the shoemaker my shoe, he held up a mirror to my face and asked if the man in the reflection had done it—had guided me to the gum. The man in the reflection looked like me, but I knew it was “him”!

The shoemaker had slightly pointed ears, but he had soft and friendly baby-blue eyes. He went into the back room of the shop and came out carrying a small bottle labeled “Away!” He told me to put a few drops on a dirty sock and rub it around on my bathroom mirror. He said, “The stalker will go away, and you will be you in the mirror again—a benign reflection showing you as you are. Your troubles will disappear.”

When I got home, I dumped a few drops of “Away!” on one of my dirty black dress socks and rubbed it around on my mirror. My mirror flashed. It turned red and blue and then went back to normal again. I looked at my reflection—it was me! Good old me again! I looked like I looked before when “I” was in the mirror, but I knew it was me. I just knew I was free. “I” was gone.

I had to go back to the shoe repair shop to thank the old man. He told me to stay away unless I had a reflection problem. He was adamant. I looked at the mirror hanging by the cash register—the man reflected in it wasn’t me. He looked like my neighbor Chip. The reflection said “I’m not Chip.” That did it. I thanked the old man and left the shoe repair shop. When I got out on the street, I pulled out the pocket mirror I had started carrying. I looked at it, but it had gone blank. It said “I’m not Chip.” I threw it on the sidewalk, but it was metal and didn’t break. I could hear it saying “I’m not Chip” as I walked away.

I didn’t understand. But life was going well. Now, when I looked in the mirror I was confident it was me looking back at me. Chip was a thing of the past. He had died mysteriously in his bathtub. Somehow, a television set had fallen in his tub and electrocuted him. Also, I rubbed down my mirror with “Away!” every once in a while, just to keep it honest. I dreaded the day when I ran out of “Away!” and my reflection became my enemy again. What the hell would I do? I don’t know. I the meantime I’m shopping for a new TV. I have ruined my old one. It was Chip’s fault.

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

Daily Trope is available in an early edition 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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Ecophonesis

Posted on August 15, 2025 | Leave a comment

Ecphonesis (ec-pho-nee’-sis): An emotional exclamation.

“Jesus Christ! Where the hell is my cider press?”

He had “lost” everything from a gold-plated mustard seed to a Rolex wristwatch. It was painful to watch his response, vacillating between crying and cursing and punching the walls—which had become dented, and in some cases, cracked.

Grandpa was flipping out again over losing something he never had in the first place. He had this condition where he “lost” things pretty much all day every day. This had been happening since his budgie Peeper flew the coop two years ago and would fly past the window on a regular basis taunting him.

How do you help somebody who loses things they didn’t have in the first place? I was starting to think an overdose of Abilify was the best I could do. Grandpa’s anger and sadness would come in for a smooth landing on the wings of a drug-induced death. It was a great idea, but I didn’t want to risk prison for murder. Instead, I would give suicide a try.

I checked “The Sorrows of Young Werther” out of the library—Johann Wolfgang von Goethe’s novel where the protagonist (Werther) commits suicide because he can’t have the girl of his dreams. My plan was to read a chapter from “Sorrows” to grandpa every night until he killed himself. I realized early on, though, that I needed to find him an “unrequited love” for my plan to work.

It was Friday and grandpa was lamenting the recent loss of his Rolls Royce—stolen from our driveway. That was when I introduced his new helpmate, Babycakes. She worked part time as a lap-dancer at Nicky Bad’s Men’s Club. I met her there when she was on my lap in a back room for $85.00. I could feel myself starting to fall for her and I was sure grandpa would go head over heels. She had big breasts—that was a favorite of grandpa. He was a part of the “greatest generation,” an ensemble of men who really liked giant knockers and fought in WW II.

The moment Babycakes walked into the living room, grandpa calmed down and did a wolf whistle. He was instantly hooked. I didn’t anticipate it, but he stopped losing things he didn’t have in the first place. Babycakes would give him a free lap dance whenever she came to visit him. Then, after a few weeks, Babycakes told him she had gotten engaged to Sal Zucchini and they were going to be married in December. Sal ran the produce section of the grocery store.

After Babycakes left, grandpa started crying and punching the walls and asking what the hell had happened to his airplane. He was super agitated and said he had seen it “clipped” from the back yard where he had parked last night. Clearly, Babycakes’ announcement had kicked in the “Werther effect.” His suicide was nearing!

But then, Babycakes came over the next day. She told grandpa that she actually loved him and had broken off the engagement with Sal. Grandapa was ecstatic and started jumping around and whooping. He tripped on the carpet and fell out the window.

Grandpa’s death was sad, but not that sad.

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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Ecphonesis

Posted on December 31, 2024 | Leave a comment

Ecphonesis (ec-pho-nee’-sis): An emotional exclamation.

“ Ooh, ooh, ooh! Harder! Faster, faster! That’s it! Aaaaah.” I was scratching a mosquito bite on my girlfriend’s back. We had gone swimming in Mickey Numnutz Pond. It was named after Mickey Numnutz who had been rescued from what was then Still Water Pond 11 times before he finally drowned at the age of 49 when he went swimming with his shoes on at 3.00 a.m. Nbody was around to save him. There was a Golden Retriever who gave it a try, but he failed. He was named “Toto” and was a feral dog who had escaped from the local animal shelter when an incompetent worker left his cage open after feeding him. He was notorious for growling at children and chasing his tail. Toto was seen by some hikers running through the woods holding a severed human arm in his jaws. Numnutz was missing an arm. When Toto was chasing his tail, he dropped the arm. It was wearing a Lance Armstrong “Live Strong” bracelet identical to Numnutz’s. It was determined that Toto chewed it off after trying to rescue Numnutz and had worked up an appetite. A foster home was subsequently found for Toto and he learned to beg and roll over. This should’ve been a happy ending.

But it wasn’t.

There was an obnoxious Chihuahua named Macho Man who lived next store. When his owners let him out in the yard it was “Yap! Yap! Yap! Yap!” the whole time. He wouldn’t let Toto sniff his butt through the chain link fence, which is the ultimate dog insult. Macho Man would fart and run away yapping. Toto hated Macho Man and wanted to kill him.

Easter was coming. He and his owner Mrs. Calder were going shopping for candy at the most upscale candy store for a thousand miles around: “Sweet Tooth’s.” Along with all the other candy, it sold chocolate sculptures of purebred pets. Toto spotted a Chihuahua on the shelf. He sat in front of it and whined until Mrs. Calder noticed. Mrs. Calder thought it would be cute to get a chocolate likeness of Macho Man for Easter and she bought it.

When they got home Macho Man was yapping in the yard. From an experience as a puppy Toto knew that chocolates would kill Macho Man. He had been lucky to survive his own chocolate poisoning when his then-owner took him to the vet.

Toto pulled the chocolate Chihuahua out of its bag, took it into the back yard and dropped it over the fence. Macho Man jumped on it and started gobbling it up. Later that afternoon, his eyes bulged out and he started twitching. His owners didn’t know what to d. They put him out in the yard and Macho Man collapsed dead.

Toto furiously dug a hole under the fence and squeezed underneath and picked up the remains of the chocolate Chihuahua and squeezed back under the fence. He carried the pieces to the yard’s far back corner and buried them. Then, he ran back to the fence and filled in the hole he had dug and covered it over, concealing it with leaves.

Macho man’s owners called for him. There was a loud gasp, and then, crying. They carried the dead Chihuahua inside.

The perfect crime.

Two days later the neighbors bought another Chihuahua and named it Macho Man. Toto ran away: one murder was enough.

An investigation determined that Toto may have played a role in Macho Man’s death. Mrs. Calder told investigators the the chocolate Chihuahua was missing and the coroner had found traces of chocolate in Macho Man’s bloodstream. “America’s Most Wanted” did a feature on him titled “Murder: Doggy Style.” Now, Toto was a fugitive.

He joined a small pack of Coyotes and was last seen feeding on a deer carcas with the pack down by “Mickey Numnutz Pond.” If you encounter Toto he may seem harmless and playful when he chases his tail. Don’t be fooled.

He is a killer.

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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Ecphonesis

Posted on April 20, 2024 | Leave a comment

Ecphonesis (ec-pho-nee’-sis): An emotional exclamation.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing Leonard?“ it was my father. I was doing my homework. “Homework, Dad,” I said. I was hunched over my desk, tapping away on my laptop. Our assignment was to write a job description, and then write a letter of application for the job. My job description was: “Wanted: stupid-ass drunk with no skills or common sense.” I thought my teacher, Miss Trank, would find it humorous and give me an “A”, especially when she read the cover letter: “Dear Potential Boss: I am drunk right now. I have had three gin & tonics for breakfast and will be drinking a half-bottle of MD-40 for lunch. So, I am a drunk. Stupid-ass describes me very accurately. For example, I sent away to Amazon for a hammock. The assembly instructions were complicated and I got tangled up in the webbing part.i was drunk so I didn’t care, but my mother cut me loose and and I fell on the ground and threw up. How’s that for stupid-ass? The only skill I have is taking a shower, and I have trouble with that. Apparently, my father is right: I don’t know my ass from my elbow. I have a picture of them with labels hung up in my shower. But they fall down from time to time, if they land face down, I’m screwed. I yell for my dad and he comes into bathroom and picks up the pictures and holds them up for me. Then, I can resume showering. Other than showering, I have other possible skills—well, maybe eating and getting dressed too. But that’s it. On the no common sense front, I can give you a quick example: I go out in the rain with no raincoat or umbrella. I get soaked and have suffered from hypothermia several times. I almost died once when I went camping in my bathing suit. Also, once I threw an alarm clock so I could see time fly. I can report for duty tomorrow. I will be drunk and ready to go.”

Leonard finished his third gin and tonic and started off for school. He staggered across Maple Street and was clipped by a car. He was knocked down on the pavement, but wasn’t hurt (so he thought). He was actually unconscious and dreaming that he was uninjured. A fifth-grader, Billy Wack, poked the crack in Leonard’s head with a stick. Leonard flopped around like a fish.

A crowd gathered. Mr. Topi, who lived on the street, called an ambulance to come get Leonard. He was still dreaming inside his cracked head—dreaming he was dreaming that his head had cracked open and leaked most of his intelligence, which he didn’t have very much of in the first place. Then, he heard a voice say “How many fingers am I holding up?” Leonard saw 300 fingers and fell off the stretcher, a common problem with the Hill Dale EMT team. They were different heights and had trouble keeping the stretcher level. When Leonard fell off the stretcher a small amount of his brain leaked out of the crack in his head.

Suddenly he was being shaken. Miss Trank was trying to wake him up. He had no idea how he had ended up in class. Miss Trank said: “Leonard, I am giving you a double zero on this assignment and you are being suspended from school for two weeks for educational sedition.” I had no idea what Miss Trank was talking about. The crack in my head was healed. I went back to the cloakroom, dug out my back-up bottle of gin and took three big swigs to hold me until the 3 o’clock bell rang.

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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Ecphonesis

Posted on September 17, 2023 | Leave a comment

Ecphonesis (ec-pho-nee’-sis): An emotional exclamation.

I hadn’t volunteered like the others to be on the cruxifixction detail. I was assigned by Sergeant Jedidiah because I was the lowest ranking member of the squad. I was nailing a spike in the palm of our victim’s hand when my mallet slipped and I hit my finger. I yelled “Goddamn hell shit” and my hand turned into a piece of shit, and I heard a voice booming from above. It was God who turned my hand into shit..

God said: “Yes, Mikamekkalak you have become the Shit-Handed one. Soon the shit will cure in the desert air, revealing fingers and affording you the grip of 50 men. Do not despair. Your Hand of Shit will be like a mighty sword slewing infidels and proving the wisdom and power of God, not to mention His existence.

“Wait a minute,” I said, “What about the other guys on the cruxifixction detail? They volunteered, Goddamnit!” God said, “Stop saying ‘Goddamnit’ or I’ll give you the Sodom treatment and pour you into a salt shaker like Lot’s wife. Now, to answer your question.

I like to induct nondescript idiots into my crew. Who was Noah before he built the boat? What about Job? Just a normal guy, until. . . Then, there’s Abraham: the knife, the son, the sacrifice, My last-minute intervention. It’s got Hollywood written all over it. But it’s not fiction. It’s fact! Now, it’s time for you to get out there and get smiting, my Shit-Handed one.”

I was propelled into the 21st-Century on the wings of a giant snow-white dove. That could’ve been front page news, but the dove dumped me in the desert somewhere in the USA. In this century, nearly everybody is an infidel. The Hand of Shit was going to be busy. After a couple months, I wandered out of the desert into a place called Las Vegas. I kept my Hand of Shit in my vestments until I saw a place named “Beat it!” selling Michael Jackson paraphernalia. I noticed a stack of white sequined gloves in a showcase inside the store. When no one was looking, I stuck my Hand of Shit through the glass and grabbed one, along with matching socks. Then, I materialized myself into a Michael Jackson suit, complete with loafers and a fedora. It was all very chic. I ran out the door. My Hand of Shit was concealed. I was thinking of moon walking around Las Vegas. Then God said in a voice of rumbling thunder, “It’s bad enough you stole all that Michael Jackson junk! Now you want to moon walk? No! Start looking for infidels! Remember the salt shaker! Soon, you will be sprinkled over a large order of fries if you don’t straighten out!”

I begged for forgiveness and started looking for a really big-time infidel to smite, and maybe, fulfill my obligation to God once-and-for-all. I worked my way through the herds of Elvis impersonators, and the drive-in wedding chapels, and the casinos filled with blue-haired women blowing their Social Security checks on the slot machines. But, I turned up no infidels that met my criteria. Then I saw it!

It was somebody named Cher. On a poster she was dressed like one of Satan’s jezebels. Her eyes drilled into my soul and almost threw me off course from my divine duties. I went to the library and checked out Cher’s autobiography. In it, she never thanked God once for all of her success. I found out that she was being paid $60 million for a three-year residency in Las Vegas. Smiting her would do the job. I would jump up on the stage, pull off my Michael Jackson glove, and my mighty Hand of Shit grip would squeeze her head off like a pimple.

The big night came. Just as she began to sing “Do You Believe in Love After Love?” I climbed onstage and squeezed off her head. The place went crazy. It seemed like the whole audience was coming after me. Suddenly, everything froze. There was a clap of thunder and God said, “You idiot. You total absolute idiot. Not only is she not an infidel, from time to time she sings in my Celestial Choir. Not only that, she is my favorite female vocalist. You dolt. You moron. You nitwit.” There was another loud rumble of thunder, and everything was restored to what it had been before I decapitated Cher, and Cher continued on with her show.

God fired me as an infidel hunter and made my Hand of Shit back into a hand of flesh, and eventually, a hand of spirit as I was deported to heaven. Presently, I work for St Peter (AKA Pearly Gate Pete). I work with a couple of other loser angels maintaining heaven’s gates. Basically, we polish the gates and keep the hinges from getting squeaky, We also stand with arms outstretched welcoming new arrivals. Right now, we’re getting ready to welcome Jimmy Carter. Like Cher, he is one of God’s favorites.

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. A Kindle edition is available for $5.99.

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Ecphonesis

Posted on January 29, 2023 | Leave a comment

Ecphonesis (ec-pho-nee’-sis): An emotional exclamation.

Me: Oh my God!!

God: What? What? This is a bad time. We’re on the edge of the apocalypse and I’m getting urgent prayers from all over your planet, not to mention a cacophony of “My God, Save me God, God help me, and even Goddamnit,” which violates one of my commandments. Idiots. You don’t earn salvation with vinegar.

Me: Oh God, PLEASE help me. Please. Please. Please. Please. Please,

God: BTW, did you try contacting my son? He’s been despondent, especially about the USA where the religion named after him has become the opposite of caritas, it’s foundational value. Love is nowhere in the air. In fact, it is nowhere.

Me: I called your son two days ago. His secretary told me he was busy spreading the Gospel message and wouldn’t be back until Tuesday. I waited and then called you. Thank-you for lending an ear when I yelled into the air.

God: Ok. I already know your problem. Tell it to me in your own words.

Me: Ok. I’m reading a book my girlfriend gave me titled Atheism Will Set You Free. It has shown me that a dependence on faith to underwrite key features of my life is crazy. I’ve been taught that everywhere that what is tangible, and therefore, knowable bears a truth, will set us free. In fact, it is possible that our conversation is a figment of my imagination. Am I talking to myself?

God: Yes, but it does not matter. Faith is operative all the time in your life. You don’t disparage making plans, encompassing a future that does not exist, that can only be conjured in belief. That’s all you can do, fully understanding that when the future manifests itself, what you believed was wrong. I’m like that. If you live with faith in me and my promise to you, you’re going to be happier than if you (ironically) don’t believe in me. It’s all a matter of belief, that’s what makes it special.

Me: Thanks God! Now I can tell my girlfriend she’s full of shit and then find a new girlfriend on the internet.

God: That’s a belief, or should I say hope, you’re vesting your future in!

Me: Ha ha! I can’t believe I’m doing this; sitting my couch writing a dialogue with God. Given my lack of theological knowledge, I must look like an idiot. All I can say is that the choice between being an atheist and a believer is not easy to make. Loosely, Pascal came to a pretty good place: if I believe in God and there’s no God, no big deal, but if I don’t believe in God, and God exists, big boo-boo. So he believed in God.

Oh well, as Ripley said, “Believe it or not.”

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. A Kindle edition is available for $5.99.

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Ecphonesis

Posted on January 29, 2023 | Leave a comment

Ecphonesis (ec-pho-nee’-sis): An emotional exclamation.

Me: Oh my God!!

God: What? What? This is a bad time. We’re on the edge of the apocalypse and I’m getting urgent prayers from all over your planet, not to mention a cacophony of “My God, Save me God, God help me, and even Goddamnit,” which violates one of my commandments. Idiots. You don’t earn salvation with vinegar.

Me: Oh God, PLEASE help me. Please. Please. Please. Please. Please,

God: BTW, did you try contacting my son? He’s been despondent, especially about the USA where the religion named after him has become the opposite of caritas, it’s foundational value. Love is nowhere in the air. In fact, it is nowhere.

Me: I called your son two days ago. His secretary told me he was busy spreading the Gospel message and wouldn’t be back until Tuesday. I waited and then called you. Thank-you for lending an ear when I yelled into the air.

God: Ok. I already know your problem. Tell it to me in your own words.

Me: Ok. I’m reading a book my girlfriend gave me titled Atheism Will Set You Free. It has shown me that a dependence on faith to underwrite key features of my life is crazy. I’ve been taught that everywhere that what is tangible, and therefore, knowable bears a truth, will set us free. In fact, it is possible that our conversation is a figment of my imagination. Am I talking to myself?

God: Yes, but it does not matter. Faith is operative all the time in your life. You don’t disparage making plans, encompassing a future that does not exist, that can only be conjured in belief. That’s all you can do, fully understanding that when the future manifests itself, what you believed was wrong. I’m like that. If you live with faith in me and my promise to you, you’re going to be happier than if you (ironically) don’t believe in me. It’s all a matter of belief, that’s what makes it special.

Me: Thanks God! Now I can tell my girlfriend she’s full of shit and then find a new girlfriend on the internet.

God: That’s a belief, or should I say hope, you’re vesting your future in!

Me: Ha ha! I can’t believe I’m doing this; sitting my couch writing a dialogue with God. Given my lack of theological knowledge, I must look like an idiot. All I can say is that the choice between being an atheist and a believer is not easy to make. Loosely, Pascal came to a pretty good place: if I believe in God and there’s no God, no big deal, but if I don’t believe in God, and God exists, big boo-boo. So he believed in God.

Oh well, as Ripley said, “Believe it or not.”

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. A Kindle edition is available for $5.99.

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Ecphonesis

Posted on May 31, 2022 | Leave a comment

Ecphonesis (ec-pho-nee’-sis): An emotional exclamation.

I can’t believe it! I ate the whole thing! What was it anyway? What!? Candy coated lies? I guess anything with a candy coating is worth swallowing. I would love some candy-coated chrysalises. Just think—crunchy sweet on the outside with a vitamin-packed gooey caterpillar center. Maybe a Monarch or a Yellow Swallowtail. Wow!

Sugar can take you anywhere. I put it on everything! Yeah! I put it on steak, Brussels sprouts, and my wife. I take my wife into the bathroom. She gets in the tub and I spray her down for two minutes with the hand-held shower head. Then I sprinkle her front. Then, she rolls over and I sprinkle her back. What would you do with a sugar-coated wife? I promised her I would never tell a soul. So far, I haven’t said a word to anyone about our candy-coated adventures. Suffice it to say “they’re sweet.”

Someday I will write a memoir. The tentative title is “The Sugared Life: A Few of My Favorite Things.” It will include recipes for sugar coating my 10 favorite edibles and lickables. Mmmm.

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. A Kindle edition is available for $5.99.

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Ecphonesis

Posted on October 3, 2021 | Comments Off on Ecphonesis

Ecphonesis (ec-pho-nee’-sis): An emotional exclamation.

Hosanna! Here comes Mr. Crack, my connection! I’ll be on the pavement tonight, drooling, staring at the starry night, heart beating out a rhumba beat. My soul will be restored! My pants will be marinating in urine! Hallelujah!

Whoever said drugs are bad for you was crazy—part of the notorious pedophile George Soros’s conspiracy to thwart human happiness. With his free clinics and fake counseling he snares unsuspecting libertines with lies about their mothers and free food, especially, and ironically, with lithium-laced baklava flown in directly from Sparta, Greece.

Oh God! I don’t have any money! Now I’ll have to get off my lazy ass and rob somebody. Here comes somebody. I’ll use my rubber knife to scare him.

“Hey chumpinola, hand over your wallet or I’ll stick a hole in you!”

BLAM! BLAM! BLAM! Thud.

Bystander: Look at that guy on the pavement bleeding all over the place! He’s been shot! He’s peed himself and he’s staring at the sky. He’s smiling, but I think he’s dead.

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

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Ecphonesis

Posted on April 27, 2020 | Leave a comment

Ecphonesis (ec-pho-nee’-sis): An emotional exclamation.

Donald in the 5th Grade

Donald: “Owwww. Owwww. Waaaaah. Mommy.”

Gym Teacher: “It’s just a soccer ball. It can’t hurt that much to kick it.  In fact, it shouldn’t hurt at all. What the heck is going on here?”

Donald: “I am cold in these stupid shorts. I want to go inside and put my pants on.”

Gym Teacher: “Sorry. You’re going to have to just keep crying for your mommy or admit what you really want.”

Donald: “What’s that?”

Gym Teacher: “You want to go inside so you can steal things from the other guys’ backpacks and lockers, just like you did last time. If you don’t get back out there on the field, I’ll be meeting with your mother–it will be warm and cordial, but this time I won’t relent. You’re going down boy.”

Donald: “Waaaah.”

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. A Kindle edition is available for $5.99.

 

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Ecphonesis

Posted on October 3, 2017 | Leave a comment

Ecphonesis (ec-pho-nee’-sis): An emotional exclamation.

Sam: “Yaaaaaaa!”

Pat: “Calm down! It’s only a snake.”

Sam: “Yaaaaaaaaaaa!!”

Pat: “Look! It likes you. It’s coming toward you.”

Sam: “Yaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!!!”

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. A Kindle edition is available for $5.99.

 

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Ecphonesis

Posted on December 12, 2016 | Leave a comment

Ecphonesis (ec-pho-nee’-sis): An emotional exclamation.

Pat: “I’m going crazy!”

Sam: “So am I! Let’s dance!”

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

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

 

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Ecphonesis

Posted on October 22, 2014 | Leave a comment

Ecphonesis (ec-pho-nee’-sis): An emotional exclamation.

Pat: “My head is on fire!”

Sam: “So is your imagination.”

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

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Ecphonesis

Posted on May 1, 2013 | Leave a comment

Ecphonesis (ec-pho-nee’-sis): An emotional exclamation.

Pat: “Help! I’ve fallen and I can’t get up!”

Terry: “You’re exactly where you belong! You’re lucky your cheap vodka comes in plastic bottles or you’d probably be cut on broken glass and bleeding all over the kitchen floor!”

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

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Ecphonesis

Posted on June 30, 2012 | Leave a comment

Ecphonesis (ec-pho-nee’-sis): An emotional exclamation.

Repeal it!

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

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Ecphonesis

Posted on December 12, 2007 | Leave a comment

Ecphonesis (ec-pho-nee’-sis): An emotional exclamation.

Wow! What a beautiful day!

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

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