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Suckride
Suckride, Suckrider, Suckriding
Suckride, Suckrider, Suckriding
1. to kiss ass or brown-nose, for no apparent reason.
2. to obsess over a person place or thing, but, the feeling isn't mutual.
3. to be more concerned about someone else's actions more then your own.
3. To show possessive traits over a person place or thing.
"Ever since I got my new car, they've been suckriding me."
"you always got his name in ya mouth, stop suckriding Nigga"
"y'all gone keep suckriding each other, or play the damn game"
1. to kiss ass or brown-nose, for no apparent reason.
2. to obsess over a person place or thing, but, the feeling isn't mutual.
3. to be more concerned about someone else's actions more then your own.
3. To show possessive traits over a person place or thing.
"Ever since I got my new car, they've been suckriding me."
"you always got his name in ya mouth, stop suckriding Nigga"
"y'all gone keep suckriding each other, or play the damn game"
Suckride by Michael Meka January 8, 2024
A Booger In The Nose Of Progress
"Militarily, that inquest was a booger in the nose of progress."
or
"As far as human rights are concerned, this political infighting is a booger in the nose of progress."
or
"As far as human rights are concerned, this political infighting is a booger in the nose of progress."
A Booger In The Nose Of Progress by Rok'n'rol Wannabe October 19, 2006
Word of the Day on June 2, 2026
fogey
Fogey/fogy /fougi/ sl. (early 18C+, orig. Scot) old-fashioned, stuck-in-the mud.
Person with old fashioned ideas which he is unwilling to change: Come to the disco and stop being such an old fogey!
Person with old fashioned ideas which he is unwilling to change: Come to the disco and stop being such an old fogey!
You think me an old fogeyand an old tory, his thoughtful voice said. I saw three generations since O’Connel’s time. I remember the famine. Do you know that the orange lodges agitated for repeal of the union twenty years before O’Connel did or before the prelates of your communion denounced him as a demagogue? You fenians forget some things. (James Joyce, Ulysses. Penguin Books,1992. p. 38)