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An extreme or "advanced" degree of "Silent Cal" tutoring in the art of keepin' yer trap shut and/or using as few words as possible to get your point across. 'Nuff said.
I am so glad that international phoning-rates have been drastically reduced over the past decades... if you were still charged several dollars per word, you'd practically need Coolidge-level training to be able to afford one of those beastly calls!
The act of indoctrinating someone into the world of podcasting.
At first my mom didn't get it, but I explained that it was just like radio, but better and on demand, and I helped her with the app. Now she sends me pod recommendations all the time. Poddy-training complete!
A person who is focused on a task or project and making progress despite all criticisms and ill wishes.
You can hate him all you like but Mikel Arteta is a moving train.
The act of rubbing one's anus back and forth across a plank of wood in order to receive pleasure and, inevitably, splinters.
I splinter trained last night. Very enjoyable.
A train that starts at Central and stops at Campbelltown, Moss Vale, Goulburn, Yass Junction, Harden, Cootamundra, Junee, Wagga Wagga, The Rock, Henty, Culcairn, Albury, Wangaratta, Benalla, Seymour. Broadmeadows and Southern Cross and runs one service every day and has a fucking expensive sleeper cabin.
I caught the 621 train from Wagga Wagga to Albury.
A sexual encounter where 12 German men rail your wife, while you masturbate from the closet, covered in chocolate (cause Germans).
Grüben: Yah, so what do this weekend, Yan?
Yan: Oh you know, we just stayed in and ordered the Belgian Commuter Train. My wife really rode them to pleasure town, one by one!
Quite possibly the greatest animated trilogy to exist. The story of an outcast Viking teen and a downed dragon of night and their unlikely friendship that transforms the world around them.
(From the epilogue of How to Train Your Dragon: The Hidden World)
Hiccup: There were dragons when I was a boy...Oh, there were great grim sky dragons that nested on the clifftops like gigantic, scary birds. Little brown scuttly dragons that hunted down the mice and rats in well-organized packs. Preposterously huge sea dragons twenty times as big as the big blue whale. Some say that the dragons went back to the sea, leaving not a bone nor a fang for men to remember them by. Others say they were nothing but folktales to begin with. Eh...I'm okay with that. Legend says that when the ground quakes or lava spews from the earth, it's the dragons. Letting us know they're still here, waiting for us to get along. Yes, the world believes that the dragons are gone, if they ever existed at all. But we Berkians? We know otherwise. And we'll guard that secret until the time comes when dragons can return in peace.