English is like that uncle you don’t talk about at Christmas. I mean, yeah, if you’re born into the family, their shenanigans might make a creepy sort of sense. But, if you’re an outsider looking in… you’ll just never fully get it. English is just too big for its own good—hideously sutured together from a spate of other, prettier languages. It may have more words than any competitor, but is governed by fewer rules. I was taught I before E, except after C, or when sounded as an A, as in “neighbor” or “weigh,” so I guess dEIties and their philosophical antithesis, sCIEnce, have it wrong. “Rough” uses a silent GH to make an F sound (as anyone would immediately guess), but put a TH in front of the word (“through”) and the same two letters serve to extend a long U. The lead pipes lead underground. And so on.
For all its inconsistencies, however, English does have one linguistic element superior to any other language: P words. As an English major, I’m qualified to tell you that the best words start with P, and my home language has the greatest collection of them—etymologically influenced as they may be. Disagree? Take it up with my bachelor’s degree from UCR, bitch. You can’t possibly argue with the following (and, no, I did not plunder a dictionary, thank you very much):
Pack, Peck, Pick, Pock, Puck and sometimes Pyck
Damn, those are fun to say aloud—they Pop Pleasantly in my Practically Perfect Palate. You might notice, men, that I neglected to list your favorite P word. This wasn’t an accident, you Penis-Poaching Perverts. Lap this up, instead:
Pretty Pink Potent Potable
- 3 oz vodka
- 1 oz Limoncello
- .75 oz Chambord
- 6 oz sparkling berry lemonade
Pour ingredients over ice. Stir. Drink.
Have a joke:
A kindergartner was in the middle of activity time, when he was struck by a strong and sudden need to use the bathroom. He shot his hand up, but didn’t wait to be called on before yelling, “teacher, I really need to used the potty!” The teacher, a tough but not unkind woman, replied, “alright, but I want you to sing your ABCs first.” The boy wasn’t about to bargain, and dove right into it, “ABCDEFGHIJKLMNO QRSTUVWXYZ!” The teacher nodded, “good… but where’s the P?” The boy started to cry, “it’s running down my leg!”
Roll on snare.
TWTG says, “Let me put a bra on before you call the police.”