MediocreMan

Malapropisms · 29 March 2025

I wondered if I could do an entertaining blog post with a bunch of malapropisms. (You be the judge.)

Malapropisms are sayings where you substitute a wrong word in for the right word. They are usually just mistakes. Like a misspelling or other error. But people can also use them to great comic effect.

I suppose Miss Spelling could be an error. But her parents probably do not think so. I actually do not know if that is a malapropism or just silly. I suppose it is just silly. But I could not help but think of Miss Spelling when I wrote misspelling. Even though I have no idea who Miss Spelling is. Just that she has one more “s” than misspelling.

Speaking of humor. I used to think that I could be a great syndicated humor columnist like Dave Barry was. In fact, I used to think that I could replace him when he retired all those years ago. But alas, nobody called or wrote to tell me that they thought I could do the job. Ah well. Instead, I have written in obscurity for all these years. I suppose that is better than writing in Antarctica. (Now, you understand why nobody called to ask if I would replace Mr. Barry.)

The other great humor columnist that I loved to read was Erma Bombeck. She wrote the seminal work on green grass and how to make it greener. The Grass Is Always Greener Over the Septic Tank. The interesting thing is that now there is no grass over the septic tank. You just get to see the green tops of the tanks. I wonder what she would think about that.

At any rate. It was always great fun to read her writings about life. I do not remember all that she wrote, but I remember being entertained by her column in the newspaper and in her books.

Well, since I have not written any more malapropisms in this piece, I suppose I ought to stop while I am behind. And no. I am not thinking that I am some vulgar word for a behind. I just like the strange saying. After all, most people stop when they are ahead. Which is why it is humorous to stop when you are behind.

Which is a third reason that I am not funny. When you need to explain your lame jokes, people tend not to laugh. Just like when you need to tell them to laugh. They might not even give you the courtesy laugh. Unless of course, the audience’s grades depended on said laughing. (Which, of course, they never have.)

I suppose that I ought to one day get on the shtick. Really up my game. Then again, my dad jokes are subpar even for dad jokes. What worse shtick is there than a dad who cannot tell dad jokes?

Well, so much for malapropisms. I have only used one in this whole piece. Okay. Maybe two. But substituting shtick for stick… Okay. That was lame too. Ah well. So much for humor. And so much for malapropisms. I wonder if Miss Spelling has Dave Berry’s phone number.

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Still Amongst the Beach Detritus · 22 March 2025

[Note: This is the sequel to the sequel, Again Amongst the Beach Detritus. Or the third part to Amongst the Beach Detritus.]

“Stop!”

I felt the pressure let up. I was given a reprieve. The man in the uniform rotated the weight of his foot off of my body onto his heel. Then, he stepped away. I was free. And I did not waste any time. I rushed off to a hiding place amongst the beach detritus. I would bide my time there to see if I could get my claw on the precious again.

***

I was not really paying attention when I heard the voice again. It was the one who held the precious. Sophie. And she was with her knight in shining armor. Joey. I waited amongst the detritus to see if they had the precious. I sulked when I saw that it was not on her finger. Somehow the finger was there, but the previous was not.

Then, I noticed. Sophie had the precious in her other hand. Not on a finger, but between her fingers. Like she was holding it out. Like she was offering it to somebody. Like she was offering it to me!

I shuffled out of my hiding place. I rushed over to Sophie and the precious. She smiled and leaned down. Joey muttered something. If crabs could smile, I would have been smiling the biggest smile any crab had ever smiled. I held out my claw. “Gimme. Gimme the precious.”

Joey smiled. “He actually wants it.”

“Of course he does. He thinks it’s precious.”

It is precious. It is the precious. And she is wrapping it around my arm above my claw. “Oh joy!”

Sophie stands and smiles. I put my claw in front of my body and bend my front four legs.

“Look. He’s trying to kneel. Like he’s some sort of knight. He thinks you’re his queen, Sophie.”

“No. I think he’s just thankful.”

I am thankful. I am thankful that they have relinquished the precious to me. To me! I shuffle off toward my spot in the detritus. But before I get there, I feel myself being lifted. “No! Help me!”

But there is no help. I see Sophie and Joey looking up at me. Their mouths are open and their eyes are wide, but they cannot help. They are getting smaller as I rise.

I look up to see the bird. He has me in his talons. He seems to be smiling. He wants the precious. “You’ll never get the precious, you ugly bird.”

“Precious? Precious? You’re the precious. I just want to…”. He looks down at my claw and seems to notice the precious for the first time. “…I just want to take the precious off your hands. It is so shiny and bright.” He looks forward again and scans the beach. “Plus, you’ll make a nice meal.”

I see where he is headed. The rocks. He’s going to crack my shell on the rocks. He’ll take my precious.

I grab his other talon with my free claw. He squawks. He lets go of my claw that has the precious. But I don’t let go of him. The fall will crush me. And he’ll get the precious.

“Let go, you dumb crab. Let go.”

But I cannot let go. Not yet. Not until… He turns. He turns toward the water. He is squawking again, but he is flying above the water. I look down. Blue everywhere. I let go. “Goodbye ugly bird.”

***

It takes a while, but I find my way back. Crawling along the bottom of the sea and then up onto the beach. The precious is still on my arm above my claw. I am safe in my beach haven. Safe. And still amongst the beach detritus.

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My Second Sequel · 15 March 2025

I wrote a second sequel to a short story. And I think it works.

I am not much for sequels. Which does not mean that I do not watch movie sequels. I do. But rarely, does the sequel measure up to the original. Which is why I pretty much do not write sequels. Unless they just come to me.

That is what happened to Amongst the Beach Detritus and Again Amongst the Beach Detritus. I just had to write the sequels. They jumped right out of my mind and onto the page. Literally. Okay. Not literally. But it did just happen. I wrote the first story and the second popped into my head right away. Maybe the next day.

Well, lo and behold, the second sequel percolated in my mind and came out a couple weeks later. Or thereabouts. I could not get the notion out of my head that the ending of the sequel was wrong somehow. I mean c’mon. Squ… Wait. I do not want to give you a spoiler. So suffice it to say, that I was not satisfied with the ending of the sequel.

It is interesting because I was actually fine with the ending to the original story. But the sequel reared its ugly head and said, “Write me.” So I did. And like I said, the second sequel just kept bugging me until I finally wrote it. It did not so much say, “Write me,” like the sequel did. It was more like, “C’mon, you know you did not really like the other ending.” And, “Think about it, do you really want the sequel to end that way?” The second sequel kept nagging me and nagging me. So I finally relented and wrote it.

I am not sure that the second sequel works. I think it does. It is somewhat humorous. And yes, I will put it on my blog next week. Or maybe I already put it on my blog. I am not sure. After all, I am still writing this piece about my second sequel. Which, by the way, is entertaining. At least to me. Then again, maybe I need to say that. After all, a piece of writing is like a child. Whether it is your favorite piece or not, you need to give it time and attention as if it was the favorite. (I really do not have a favorite child. But I do have favorite pieces of writing. Which is not possible either since you can only have one favorite by definition. At any rate.)

Well, that is about it. I am not really much of a fan of sequels, but I have written a couple for one simple short story. And maybe they are so short that they are really one story that just did not get written all the way in one sitting. But it does not matter because when all is said and done, they are three pieces. An original and two sequels. I hope you like them all.

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