When you go down the shore during a period of continuous rain not since seen since the biblical days of Noah, you got to find some other stuff to do to fill your time. Like go to the Cape May winery, or take a tour of the town, or eat a lot, or rock the skee ball lanes. Or play board games.
My husband and I stayed in stormy Cape May, NJ with one of his childhood friends at her parents’ awesome shore house (yay, Big Blue!) and we spent Saturday night enjoying the local spirits (ahem) while playing Balderdash. You know what I learned?
Thripple.
And, no, it surprisingly does not mean the “scientific term for a third nipple,” as my husband suggested. Though I do think that’s a darn good answer (and deemed valid by urbandictionary.com).
It surprisingly means, “an extension device that attaches to the rear of haywagons.” Like, duh.
But I challenge all of you out there to find that definition in existence anywhere, because I’m convinced it only lives in the Balderdash black hole. The game is making up words. Seriously, Google “thripple;” you get nothing. The biggest search engine in the world thinks I’m on crack and can’t spell the word “triple.”
Though Merriam-Webster does claim to know what it means, only you have to pay $30 for its Unabridged Dictionary to see the definition.
Uh huh, sure. I bet if I typed in “o;ijgnvdbho8iahwge,” it would say the same thing.
I also learned that if I ever get on Deal or No Deal, I could make a fortune from Howie Mandel. My husband, our friend, Melissa, and I played the arcade version—which is equipped with pretty models, a banker, tickets, and everything—and we made it the final case with the top prize money (400 Arcade Tickets) or one of the lower numbers (40 Arcade Tickets). We knew we had it. The banker was on the ropes desperate to entice us with his entrancing offers of 220 tickets, but we refused to be swayed! We had the case!
But, um, here’s the deal—we didn’t. Unfortunately, the lovely model holding case No. 7 had the big ticket pay out. So we took our 40 tickets and left (actually, we gave them to this little girl at the counter with her parents who was eyeing the pink stuffed poodle).
We did see sand eventually though. We made it to the overcast beach for almost two full hours yesterday before it ultimately started raining, again. And you know what’s really twisted? It’s beautiful today—sun’s shining, birds are chirping, sky’s all baby boy blue—and I’m at home with my computer.
Damn you, thripple, Damn you.
POP CULTURE RANT: Sushi
So I had my first real sushi rolls this weekend. Normally, I avoid the stuff. I was raised by a woman who works in microbiology, so let’s just say I grew up with unusual knowledge of things like E. coli, Pasteurella, Salmonella and all other “ellas”. So I still ordered an entrée of fried and battered tempura (go with what you know), but I at least tried three different types of sushi. And you know what? They weren’t bad. Sort of tasted a lot like the soy sauce I was dipping them into. And if I didn’t know what was in it (ie. cooked or uncooked fish/scallop/shrimp/etc.), I found it was easier to eat. Though I didn’t go near the stuff at the end with the orange fish eggs on top. I have my limits. Great dinner though. Thanks, Berks!
uhm, you are way too funny. 🙂
thripple does sound like a third nipple which kinda freaks me out a bit.
i love stormy beaches though. you don’t have to wear a bathing suit, then. 🙂 hehehe.
Hope you find your day in the sun this summer!
<3Nisha
Sorry to be really boring amongst you high flying metrosexual people but as a yokel (will you have to google that too?) from England I can confirm that a thripple is the ladder-like extension to the bed of an agricultural trailer (haywagon if you like). Do you know what a firkin is?
A firkin? Was that the freaky big-eyed “must have” toy in the ’90s? Oh, wait, that was Furby. (I’m kidding.)
But yeah, you definitely got me on firkin. I had to google it: A small wooden barrel or covered vessel. 🙂