A process used by individuals that are attempting to illegally obtain personal information about a person for the purposes of stealing that person’s identity, financial or personal information. Most commonly used by calling a credit card company, bank or other data collection institution several times to piece together bits of information into a complete profile of a specific individual.
Some piece of shiite muslim was phishing my credit card information from my bank and charged $1000 on it.
by Openmind01 April 18, 2006
by bhatasdad April 29, 2007
Pearl Jam were rad last night but they started to phish a bit during their encore and i wasn't stoned enough to enjoy it.
by scarletcityfever April 16, 2010
(1) an acronym for
Phake
Hippie
Ivy-leaguers
Smoking
Hemp
(2) a faux psychedelic jam band from the suburbs of Main Line New Englend that think they're "funky." They have some good songs, and I'll admit those boys can jam, but come on! They're so overrated! Most of their fans are also "funky" suburban soul brother wannabe hippies who actually have no idea what true funk is. In fact, many Phish fans I know hate real black funk bands like Parliament, JamesBrown, and the Ohio Players, and only like white jam bands like Phish, the String Cheese Incident, the Dead, and all those other posers.
Phake
Hippie
Ivy-leaguers
Smoking
Hemp
(2) a faux psychedelic jam band from the suburbs of Main Line New Englend that think they're "funky." They have some good songs, and I'll admit those boys can jam, but come on! They're so overrated! Most of their fans are also "funky" suburban soul brother wannabe hippies who actually have no idea what true funk is. In fact, many Phish fans I know hate real black funk bands like Parliament, JamesBrown, and the Ohio Players, and only like white jam bands like Phish, the String Cheese Incident, the Dead, and all those other posers.
by I have no idea where I am right now October 20, 2005
-Catholic Private School (3rd Grade)-
Nun; Johnny, spell "FISH"
Johnny: P-H-I-S-H, Fish!
Nun: *SMACK*
Nun; Johnny, spell "FISH"
Johnny: P-H-I-S-H, Fish!
Nun: *SMACK*
by John November 18, 2003
A delightful, happy, talented band that provides the soundtrack for amiable patchouli-scented hippies everywhere
by Viddy May 30, 2005
A contemporary jam band contrived of four musicians, plodding along with guitars, keyboards, drums, bass, and voice, containing "lyrics." Ironically, despite rampant allegations of creative genius, these perpetual noodlers are a regressive bore, with their roots firmly entrenched in the already explored and conquered vein by a forty year old jam band called (the)grateful dead.
If length were the yardstick of musical greatness, these silly men are the Ron Jeremy of jam bandom. Unfortunately for them and their fans, it isn't. Where Grateful Dead were a respectable band charting new musical territory while hitch-hiking the social torrent of the 1960's, Phish are an evolutionary hangover of that scene; an appendix, floating there aimlessly amidst the rest of the musical organism, only to hemorrhage on the unsuspecting college student.
These fans fall into either one of two stereotypes with 98% reliability. (The other two percent, although statistically negligible, are generally people that have errantly meandered into a group of Phish fans, having been the accidental beneficiary of a contact high. They follow the sheep looking for Doritos.
Type A: This Phish fan comes from the bowels of baby-boom parents. There is a strange and disconcerting melange of Benjamins and tie-die, patchouli and birkenstocks. They arrive at college in a Volkswagen Jetta fitted with a ski-rack, and they will smoke mercury (Hg) as long as you remind them that it is "natural." Fronting the failed idealism of "peace, love, and happiness," these people are like a badger in a dishwasher (on) when confronted with actual hardship. Not so loving, indeed. (To witness what a cognizant human being deduces from this mentality, read the lyrics of "Common People" by Pulp).
Type B: This type is equally offensive in odor and candor, however lacks the ability to establish an actual friendship. They want your drugs. Everything else is inconsequential.
Many fans cite grandiose concert performances as another crucial perk of the Phish experience (e.g. hot dog suits and sparkles, sometimes even balloons and disco balls (!). These, of course, are convenient distractions to the painful reality that you are listening to an eighteen minute circle-jerk lubricated with hashish and patchouli (dirt). A Phish show is an Auschwitz of terrible guitar tone and stupidity, albeit with fewer ashes (not by many) and with corpses that move slightly more.
Fact: The lyrics of this music will decrease your I.Q. score 13 points (+/-2). Do not attempt to comprehend Phish "lyrics." Do not confuse these "lyrics" as anything besides the comparable babble of a toddler with a annoying and terminal language disorder.
If length were the yardstick of musical greatness, these silly men are the Ron Jeremy of jam bandom. Unfortunately for them and their fans, it isn't. Where Grateful Dead were a respectable band charting new musical territory while hitch-hiking the social torrent of the 1960's, Phish are an evolutionary hangover of that scene; an appendix, floating there aimlessly amidst the rest of the musical organism, only to hemorrhage on the unsuspecting college student.
These fans fall into either one of two stereotypes with 98% reliability. (The other two percent, although statistically negligible, are generally people that have errantly meandered into a group of Phish fans, having been the accidental beneficiary of a contact high. They follow the sheep looking for Doritos.
Type A: This Phish fan comes from the bowels of baby-boom parents. There is a strange and disconcerting melange of Benjamins and tie-die, patchouli and birkenstocks. They arrive at college in a Volkswagen Jetta fitted with a ski-rack, and they will smoke mercury (Hg) as long as you remind them that it is "natural." Fronting the failed idealism of "peace, love, and happiness," these people are like a badger in a dishwasher (on) when confronted with actual hardship. Not so loving, indeed. (To witness what a cognizant human being deduces from this mentality, read the lyrics of "Common People" by Pulp).
Type B: This type is equally offensive in odor and candor, however lacks the ability to establish an actual friendship. They want your drugs. Everything else is inconsequential.
Many fans cite grandiose concert performances as another crucial perk of the Phish experience (e.g. hot dog suits and sparkles, sometimes even balloons and disco balls (!). These, of course, are convenient distractions to the painful reality that you are listening to an eighteen minute circle-jerk lubricated with hashish and patchouli (dirt). A Phish show is an Auschwitz of terrible guitar tone and stupidity, albeit with fewer ashes (not by many) and with corpses that move slightly more.
Fact: The lyrics of this music will decrease your I.Q. score 13 points (+/-2). Do not attempt to comprehend Phish "lyrics." Do not confuse these "lyrics" as anything besides the comparable babble of a toddler with a annoying and terminal language disorder.
by honeybadger May 14, 2008