Column Chronicles
 
Speaking youthfully
 
 
Frank Cotolo
September 5, 2013
 
I might have a couple of decades on me but I can sure communicate with the younger generation. Some of my best friends were born this century. This knack keeps me right on target with the times.
 
For instance (read carefully, many of the words to follow look as if they are not spelled correctly), when I get the hungs, I'm like shocked that some friend girls don't have pizza regret.
 
You can get a double rainbow at times if you got good gifts to mankind but if you are dankrupt then you'll attract naggers and you don't wanna start playing email tennis in that condition.
 
Some dudes say they'll feel better when the economy picks so for now they wake and bake and everything is work paralysis.
 
Of course if you get the hungs and you slam nom, like if you perform Pringlelingus, don't expect anyone to clean your Jesus shoes if you puke.
 
One of my younger cohorts disagreed with the use of the word "puke". He liked to say "hurled".
 
There are some phrases that define old conditions with a new twist. For instance, I have always hated bananas that are browning. I found out that such a dislike makes me a banana racist. It's a phrase that has come of age. I could not imagine my grandmother, born at the turn of the 20th century, calling my grandfather, who was even older, a banana racist. Strangely enough, there is not a phrase for pears gone bad or moldy bread - yet.
 
Young folks take tradition and color it with comic twinges. For instance, Mardi Gras translates from French to English as Fat Tuesday. Youth adds that Fat Tuesday comes just after Chubby Monday, which comes after Tubby Sunday. This allows them to slam nom before Lent.
 
But I got a snecret. My shawty doesn't play email tennis, she doesn't slam nom, she's a leslie, a waffle crapper and when she pops a squat every Wong within earshot puts that image in their spank bank. She loves my swagger.
 
The other day I was in a subway car and I saw a few of my young friends. I said, "Hey, it sure is nuts to butts in here," and they laughed. But a lot of the older people in the car didn't understand that I meant it was crowded. None of the over-forty crowd understands the new language. Some of them don't even have a Facebook page, so they never feel poster's remorse. I would bet you a hundred percent of them sometimes burp with a little vomit in it but don't realized it was a verp.
 
It amazes me how some people won't learn to communicate with the younger generation. I think about how useful it could be if they worked at it. I get prexhausted by what it would take to convince them it is worth it.
 
Frank Cotolo can be found hosting the talk and interview programme Cotolo Chronicles. You can send him an e-mail at this address: frank@148.ca.

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