Short for synapse lapse. In a phone call or voice-mail from the Ding
, the lapse in time between "Hello" and the point at which the actual message begins. A synlapse is signalled by a drawn-out um
The length of a synlapse depends on the complexity of the message, which determines how long it will take the Ding
's electron-size brain to fit the information together coherently enough to convey it.
The average length of a synlapse is 45 seconds, during which boredom-induced drooling may commence in the unfortunate recipient of the voice-mail.
The message the Ding left for Zeke lasted two and a half minutes, two minutes of which consisted of a particularly mind-numbing synlapse.
A maneuver usually performed by, but not limited to, a Skape
, when traveling down a hallway with other people. Similar in posture to the famous Heisman Trophy, with the exception that instead of clutching a football to the stomach area, the individual performing the Hallway Heisman will grasp the small of their back, in a hunched over position. The Hallway Heisman is mainly used to ward of approaching people, so as not to be bumped into due to a "back injury".
As soon as the Skape saw the Human Resources person coming, she suddenly stopped running and got into a Hallway Heisman position.
Form of dance wherein one moves only the head in a sort of bobble-motion, back and forth, like the singers in crappy early 80s New Wave videos.
Doing the Gaslamp Chigger Boogie for extended periods of time will probably give you a sore neck.
A big fat cunt
who can't keep her big snout
out of other peoples' business. A distant, more enormous cousin of an Aardvark
. (Rhymes with the Sesame Street character Snuffleupagus
We never feared running out of supplies, since every Monday morning, before doing any work, the Cuntelupagus sent a delightfully "cheery" e-mail to us letting us know what we had to buy.
Busybody who always needs to ask where one's lunch has come from, even if it's obvious. Every ingredient must be accounted for.
Zeke: How come you didn't have lunch with us today, Clyde?
Clyde: I got caught by the phantom gourmet. Of course she had to ask me if I'd gotten my burger at Wendy's. I said, "What gave it away? The bag that says 'Wendy's' on it?"
The pain caused when you're plowing through shis-ka-bobs and keep impaling the roof of your mouth on the skewers. Maybe you ought to slow down before you move on to the next one, big fella.
Kid: Hey Albert, you want some cake?
Albert: Oh, I'd love some, but I'm all shishkabobulated from poking myself 15 times in the last hour. Maybe later.
Kid: How 'bout now?
Albert: Now's later. Okay.
The shrivelled, atrophied penis of a sick twisted disturbed fuck
. All that comes out is a tiny drop of a congealed yellow liquid, created from years of disuse.
Zeke: Why did Lenny just run into his office and close the door?
Clyde: Did he have his mail with him?
Clyde: Ah, then it must be time to whip out the ol' purple inchworm for a grueling hour of futile jackin' off.