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An inchronicable event is anything that is strangely out of time phase with the perceived reality of the moment. A photo of George Washington eating from a bucket of Popeye's. An image of Beethoven writing his music on an I-Pad. Reading the Sunday paper on Saturday. Things possible, just not right.
When I received a text this morning from one "Abe LIncoln", I was struck with how inchronicable it felt. How did he charge his phone with no electricity?
A type of music that defies genre...combining a little rock and roll, a little country, a little R&B, a little blues...a veritable cornucopia of musical tastes..."fuckingoodacana"!
"Say, Sport... what time does your band start, and what kind of music do you play?"
We start at 9, and we'll give you a dose of fuckingoodacana.
A scentuation is a situation where there is a noticeable scent in the area. A skunk could be responsible for a foul scentuation. A woman doused in cheap perfume is a walking bad scentuation. A fragrant rose creates a lovely scentuation.
Some people love their toast burned; but I feel it is just creates a bad scentuation. Yuk!
A term of love and affection, to be used in place of the more mundane "everything".
"Baby, you are my eberteng," the interesting fella said to his lovergirl.
A genre of popular music "indigenous" to Sonoma, California. Originally populated by Native Americans, there is no record of the music original to the area that remains. Sonomacana is the type of music one now hears there, a hybridization of many types and styles, from blues to rock and roll to folk to jazz. Nowhere is such a wide variety of genres kept alive as in Sonomacana.
"What kind of music to the band play?" "They are all over the place, truly Sonomacana."
A platetitude is a remark made by a server or diner of a fine restaurant, or a food critic of same, that sounds wonderfully praiseful but actually holds no substance. "The Sole Dore was devine." Ok, so you liked it. Tell me more so I can decide if I might like it. "The new taqueria rocks!" Hmmm. Again, you liked it, but what about it did you like?
His review was filled with the usual buzzwords and platetitudes about the typical restaurant experience, but little information about the actual encounter.
The common yet very disappointing realization, or point you reach, when you have no more options or ideas. You're tapped out, bushed, done, Finito Benito. You've run out of gas, paint's fallen off the car. You're washed up. Turn out the lights, the party's over.
"Boss, we have been racking our brains trying to come up with a new angle to sell this new shiny thing that all the millennial will clamor for, but we're dead endin' here.