Steamed ass beckons the absurd nature of human psyche. A fragile sliver of happiness resting on the sharp edge of a steel blade. One's entire existance prepared in such a way to unlock the delicate texture and succulent fragrance without sacrificing nourishment. Yet the the slightest whisper of the wind splits the seams: allowing exhausted fumes of hope and aspiration to burst from it's crevace. Thus, mimicking the posterior of it's lapsing creator. A steamed ass through-in and throughout. This is the most formidable paradox of man.
When you have to pee in a movie but don’t want to miss anything, and must do the following mental equation: will the amount I have to pee cause enough discomfort to diminish my attention capacity for the remainder of the movie to an extent which is greater than the amount of the movie I would miss by making a mad dash to the restroom.
I saw Satantango last night, wonderful film but by the 5th hour I had to start doing pee calculus.
Short-hand for the word floccinaucinihilipilification, meaning the estimation of something as valueless (encountered mainly as an example of one of the longest words in the English language).