Thursday, 15 May 2008

New word description...



You know how it is; you suddenly recall for absolutely no reason, an acutely embarrassing personal situation or statement you may have made, perhaps many years ago, and your frail, slender, human body instantly exhibits an involuntary, possibly spasmodic, but definitely recognisable jolt; perhaps accompanied by a jerking sensation to some/all of your limbs, or your face or complete head and possibly emits a small pathetic squeak - totally unrecognisable in your personal vocabulary...

Do you? Well, I do!
Oh come on! You do, you do, you do...!

I believe it should be called a 'SHUDDEN', but I bet someone out there has a better word...
(PS. This post is actually dedicated to Idle, who has provoked such lateral thinking on Merms' site concerning new words, that it was all I needed to prompt me to ask this simple, but very deep and worrying question above). Thanks a bunch Iders!
Update...Merms is back from her French wedding now, (hmphhhh) so we've all got to tidy up...

31 comments:

Lilith said...

Shudden is very good for that particular jolt of shame/panic/horror remembering. Now I know what to say to Elby when he says "What happened just then?" when i let out an apparently unprovoked squawk mid-daydream.

Scroblene said...

Aw Lils; Thanks for this - somehow I knew you would be first!

I feel 'shuddens' are getting worse these days - remembering how I probably upset someone years ago!

All Elby has to say is '...Better Dear?' and all is sweetness and light!

Works with Mrs S anyway...

Well...most times...

Actually not that often - 'cos the recall lasts for a nanosecond, and it takes me several of those to ensure that: -

1) I'm not asleep, and
2) She'll understand ...

Hmmm - you've set me thinking just a little...

killemallletgodsortemout said...

I once went to a shed on fire, about 8 a.m.

The fire was all out when we arrived, but at the door of the shed was a "continental quilt" aka a duvet.

The lady of the house was in the garden crying.

The station officer surveyed the scene, withdrew notebook from pocket, walked up to the duvet, and kicked it.

"That yours, Madam?"

"Yes"

"Strange place to find a duvet"

"Yes (wails big time). But I thought I'd cover him up".

Cover HIM up?"

"Yes. (more wailing) My husband is under there"

And he was. Dead as a nit.

He'd covered himself in petrol,and torched himself. Wife found him dead, covered him with the duvet.

It's the kick that gives me the shudden......and the shame.

nomad said...

As my first (albeit very belated comment on your splendiferous efforts, both here and elsewhere) I shall merely say: Parfait! Le mot juste.

nomad said...

My second comment is in relation to your post of 18 April about giving musical instruments away.

Many years ago about 3 weeks before I was due to move on to pastures new, I placed an ad in the local paper to sell my old faithful Yamaha electronic organ which had given several years of unblemished service. On the morning the ad appeared I had a call from the local vicar who wanted it fr his church group. We arranged for him to come the following afternoon to see it as I was otherwise occupied all that day. The same evening when I got home from all day meetings I sat down to relaxc and play a few tunes - and not a sound emanated! I checked all the obvious things - fuses etc - but it had given up the ghost completely! When the vicar came the next day I was very embarrassed at what had happened. He was very disappointed but after a cup of tea (and as I did not want to ship a dead organ half way round the world), we agreed that if he could arrange to collect it, I would donate it free to his church and he could investigate getting it fixed. He took it away the next day; and I never ever found out if he had managed to get the defective board, or whatever it was, fixed.

I am sure these inanimate objects KNOW when you are getting rid of them! Have you ever had that experience? I have had 2 cars over the past 20 years which have given me dead batteries on the night before their new owners came for them! (Fortunately I have a charger which at least got them started the next day...).

Scroblene said...

Welcome to occasional insanity Nomad - thanks for visiting, and even remembering the Eko story...(It's still there right behind me...)!

I thought you were going to say that the Vicar, took it straight to the local blacksmith, where a well administered bash mended it in an instant!

Scroblene said...

Killers! That's the saddest bedtime story I've ever read!

Are you sure you're not related to Blaster Bates?

killemallletgodsortemout said...

IT WASN'T ME, GUV!

I was merely an unfortunate witness.

I could tell you another which occurred when I was arranging a funeral, but it'll wait......

nomad said...

...A well administered bash....

Now why didn't I think of that!?? I might have made a couple of hundred quid....

Mr Pineapples said...

Hey Scrobbler

Is that a picture of your barnet?

If it is - why is it covered in engine oil?

idle said...

Shudden - yes, a good word, scrobs. Onomatopoeic, as well.

I get it when I remember (involuntarily) one or two quite appalling gaffes in my own wedding speech. Also the time I tried to jump over a wheelbarrow outside the ironmonger's in the square at Holsworthy on market day.

New Year's Eve is the most likely time to be struck down with a dose of the shuddens.

Scroblene said...

Hey - The Legendary Monsieur Pineapples est arrive...!

This is an honeur, and indeed, mon Barnet est sur la picture!

L'engine oil was not exactly that - mainly becaise it was the residue from countless hand combings after frustration at the guvment's failure to grasp anything which makes citizens feel good...

However, to get a visit from the Great Pineapolis is un honeur, and you are exceedingly welcome Old Chap!

Scroblene said...

Ahhh - the wheelbarrow scenario Iders!

So it was you!!!

You young 'Blade' you!

Mr Pensitone, the Butcher in Holsworthy mentioned to me that one day, a young 'Blade' issued himself from 'The Three Bullocks' public house, (Triballs to those who know...) well the better for one or three strong ales, and remonstrated in a gentlemanly fashion to anyone who bothered to listen, that he could leap the shop frontage of Mr Grymmett, Purveyor of all things Gardening and seeding!

Mr Grymmett'e wife, Dorethaline, was perturbed, clutching her many bosoms, and so were the onlookers, but; said 'Blade' took a running jump and cleared the hoes, the spades, the galvanised dustbins, and also the fake strimmers (Thailand made...), but failed to ensure a safe landing beyond the wheelbarrows, which were neatly stacked by the atomic weedkiller substitute powders (stacked outside for safety reasons).

Mrs Grymmett seemed to have an embolism, (possibly something else), and the 'Blade' fell awkwardly into the bucket layers, and also the spades.

Nobody ever mentioned the event again, and Mrs Grymmett died a happy woman...

Daisy said...

i think shudden works for me...i was trying to think of something else but you have already named it and nothing else sounds as good...xx

electro-kevin said...

OHBUGGERIJUSTSHITMATROOS

Is a word I've just invented for a similar feeling, Scrobs.

Trubes said...

Hello Scrobs:
My 'Shudden' moment was many years ago when dining at the Berni`s Inn in Chester.
The Chef had walked out and this resulted in us being treated to free drinks, until he could be persuaded to return to his kitchen Afte 4 hours of imbibing I stood up to leave and with a regal wave, to all and sundry, fell down a whole flight of stairs and went tumbling through double doors, into the ground floor of the restaurant below.

Much to the amazement of the diners and staff, I managed to gather myself up and slur to the onlookers, 'My goodnesh that was one hell of a Martini Cocktail'.

I was then unceromoniously bundled into a taxi and taken home.

I was with a girlfriend who could drink anybody under the table and still remain upright and coherent, whilst drinking the same amount.

She used to take great delight in regaling this story to anybody who would listen, purely to embarrass me.
I realised later, that she was no friend of mine, as she had an affair with my ex-husband. She was welcome to him too, I may add.

I took great delight in naming her and shaming her in my divorce papers.

This, I believe caused her a lot of embarrassment too, as she regarded herself as the 'pillar of society' and had a very high regard of herself. Also her husband, a church warden,
had no idea what had been gong on!

Sometimes, revenge is sweet.

Di.xxx

Scroblene said...

Hi Daisers!

Let's have your word please!

Our lawnmower shop closed years ago, and we now have five houses there - sad day when it went away...I could go in there for one nail or something and come out half an hour later with a wheelbarrow, ten packets of path scourer, an electric drill and something to keep cats off the lawn...

Such was the business of an ironmongers - now gone!

Scroblene said...

Hilarious Trubes!



Luckily the alcohol broke your fall, and was probably the main reason why you didn't break anything else...I'll now spend the rest of the day wondering if you; you know; ummm; hmphhhh...let them see... ummm, anything...

I have to admit that I would never have thought a chef in a Berni Inn could be bright enough to have a tantrum, but I am old fashioned sometimes, and tend to growl at the wrong things!

grumpy granny said...

Trubes: Brilliant!! I have just had a "shudden" outburst of guffaw moment. Fortunately I was not clutching a cup of coffee at the same time. Hope you did no long term damage to yourself!

Daisy said...

scroblene...no word actually formed so i am going with yours...if i think of something i will jot it down to you...
the reason for the name of my blog is that my husband when first released from the air force (he was a jet mechanic) could not find a job and started working at this lawnmower shop to support us...it was a horrible job for him and they treated him rather badly...after i got my first degree at uni, i told him he needed to quit his job and go back to school...it was scary because i had just started working and was not secure in my job at all and not making much money but we scrimped and got him through school...i told him if i ever wrote a book it would be "after the lawnmower shop" because of the experience there...and he used to say when working there, "there is nothing after the lawnmower shop"...i proved there was...he is now general manager of a publishing firm and has been for the past 10 years...it was well worth a couple of slim years...and he is happy in his job...very important...

Trubes said...

Hi Scrobs:
The Berni Inn in Chester, actually, was quite good many years ago. THere was none of the ready made junk that they serve now and did wonderful locally sourced steaks , chops and roast duck, which was the reason I liked to go there.
The chef was terrbly effette and regularly threw tantrums. Not the brightest button in the box though, as you say!
Miraculously I didn't break anything but was sporting a few bruises for weeks to follow.
I was younger and fitter then...Golden days....

Lilith said...

Trubes! You GO Girl! :-) Love your comment, start to finish.

Daisy, nice one.

Excuse me Scrobs :_) I love the idea that your pate is moistened with the sebum and sweat of NuLabian Angst. I run over Elby's with a mower every couple of months which prevents his looking along the same lines but with an Einstein edge.

Lilith said...

My earliest Shudden was when I was 3 and we lived in NZ. My Ma was heavily pregnant and tired and I helpfully suggested fish and chips for tea. She said fine, if you get them...(c'mon folks this is New Zealand, nothing was going to happen to a 3 year old going to buy fish and chips). She gave me some money, and I have to say I got a little 3yr old adrenaline rush at the thought of completing such a grown up task. But Ma believed in me so I was going to do it. And I really fancied fish and chips. A treat.

I set out and crossed the road in front of the chippy with no problem. I gave the order, which the fish and chip man prepared and gave back to me, wrapped in a lot of paper. I gave him the money. I waited. He served the next customer. I waited. The fish and chip man hadn't given me any change! After a while he looked down at me over the counter and said "No Change". At which point I felt suffused with shame. I had screwed up. You ALWAYS got change when you passed over money, didn't you?

There, my first ever shudden. It wasn't long before it was superceded by others...but I can remember the fish man's face like I saw it this morning..

Lilith said...

I generally prefer garvits to shuddens :-) in the daily run of things.

Scroblene said...

Daisers - that is a good story - never forget it eh?

Lils - You should have got change I agree! I know that sort of shudden and can sympathise...the garvits would possibly occur after experiencing a shudden at the inappropriate moment; I'll have to ask Idle!

Grumps...keyboards are built to take at least three cups, so plenty of time yet!

Scroblene said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
gg said...

Trubes; ref your 19/5 15.50, you may know this one which seems appropriate for your collection. It would probably also go well with Tuscan Tony's new boots!

http://video.aol.com/video-detail/jeannie-c-riley-harper-valley-pta-live-in-nashville/425505267

Sorry you'll have to copy and paste as I have still to learn to do links.

Mrs Smallprint said...

A shudden sounds good but I think for me it might have to be a squirmole. The sudden feeling of shame that leaves you wanting to squirm down the nearest worm hole.

Lilith said...

A "squirmole" is good too Mrs Smallprint.

Scroblene said...

Miss Smallprint!
I love it! 'Squirmole' is a delightful word - and would remind me of something much more loveable - which is a 'Squirmly', when dogs/cats just lie on their backs and shuffle from side to side with a look of ecstacy on their faces...

Lilith, this is becoming the Wikipedia of fine new words - please keep 'em coming!

Scroblene said...

Oooops - I meant MRS Smallprint.









sorry...