Over the years while writing, or more often reading, I’ve run across a select group of words that I just don’t care for. For the most part it’s nothing I have personal against the words. They never stole my woman or cheated me at cards or lured me into a van with candy as a boy. No, it’s more the manner in which they were foisted on me that grinds my gears.
There are things in this world that I absolutely hate, but the words naming them aren’t necessarily words I can’t tolerate. Panda is a fine example of this. As some of you may know, I hate pandas with all the passion normally reserved by the American male for the NFL, Coors Light, and Las Vegas. I abhor pandas. I can’t stand them. Their entire existence and society’s insistence that it continues despite any bit of interest in it displayed by the fluffy ignoramuses boggles my mind. But the word panda itself isn’t verboten with me. Hell, I liked Kung Fu Panda quite a bit. Continue reading