No! I’m a master when it comes to stewing in silence. I can never remember a single appropriate paraprosdokian when I need it.
Para@#$? That’s right. Just trip right over that fancy pants word for now (this is a travel blog, after all). We’ll get back to it later.
Now, where was I?
Oh, yeah, remembering what I said in the first place.
Imagine getting the chance to exit a heated exchange with these clever figures of speech.
The last thing I want to do is hurt you, but it’s still on my list.
I didn’t say it was your fault, I said I was blaming you.
It’s the least I can do, and I always like to do the least.
I try to watch what I eat and yet my eyes just aren't quick enough.
Dogs have owners, cats have staff.
I don't know what your problem is, but I'll bet it's hard to pronounce.
To err is human, to really mess up though, that takes a computer.
Celery is 95% water and 100% not pizza.
We never really grow up, we only learn how to act in public.
You won’t find the word paraprosdokian in the dictionary. Apparently it doesn’t come up enough in conversation to merit a permanent place in Webster’s world. Ya think!? Travel buddy Joan introduced me to the word several weeks ago. She’s quite clever, and obviously much smarter than I. I know for a fact she often gets the last word with her husband, Jerry. Neither would have it any other way! They're naturals when it comes to good humor.
Officially, a paraprosdokian (you can hear the word pronounced via this link) is a phrase or sentence that leads us down the garden path to an unexpected ending courtesy of a surprising semantic twist. They’re quite popular with comedians and satirists; and snarky travel bloggers.
And what does a paraprosdokian have to do with a travel blog?
I’m so glad you asked.
Travel is full of surprises, some delightful, others disastrous. See what you think of my very own paraprosdokians. Feel free to chime in with a few of your very own (any topic), if you like, via the comments. Otherwise, I get the last word. FINALLY!
I've finally learned how to pack less when I travel. There's sleeveless, strapless, creaseless, backless, braless, cordless and childless.
I rarely have trouble with blackout dates when I travel. I just don’t have more than 6 martinis on the days I book my flights.
There are really only two classes of people who travel; those who travel First Class, and the rest of us second-class wannabes.
How is it that a continent is a large landmass, but a continental breakfast is an island-size portion of food?
I think travel should be all about indulging in flights of fancy. And so it is. Every time I squeeze into a seat in economy for another international flight, I’m convinced the airlines are out of touch with reality.
Given their immense importance, I think I’d like to take an ego trip.
Why is it pigs don’t fly unless I’m stuck in a middle seat?
I don’t get it! Every time we hit cruising altitude and my head is officially in the clouds, I start counting. When I get to cloud 9, nothing happens. I’m still in economy.
Most luggage comes with wheels. You’d think left-holding-the-bag would no longer apply where passengers and excess baggage fees were concerned.
My mother loves to travel. Guilt trips take her to some of her favorite destinations.
If there’s anything travel teaches you, it’s that you are a tiny blip on a giant radar. If you don’t believe me, check with the control tower next time you fly.
I thought I’d like traveling the world. Turns out I just don’t like housework.
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