I thought I’d start my day by stating two things:

1. I’m starting the process of submissions to a plethora of publishers. For this, I will be creating a portion of the site devoted to the progress of my book so you may know (those of you truly interested).

2. There was a time in my youth where I was school shopping with my mother in K-mart. Upon reaching the check-out line, there were two men in the line together next to ours. A little bearded man in a motorized wheelchair, and a very large man helping him with the groceries.

Now you may wonder why I take note of this at all. I’ll tell you the only reason I remember any of this is because of the nature of said groceries. The little man was buying what seemed like 300 bags of Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups. They were everywhere. He had two carts full of them. I remember the cashier was diligently ringing each bag and trying to bag them too. I imagine you had to ring them up individually because there would be no conceivable way to count how many there were in a timely manner. Further, I suspect that K-mart registers couldn’t handle the calculation: $4.54 X too-many-damn-Reese’s without getting “EPIC FAIL” printed all over the receipt.

Then came the screaming child.

There was another line nearby with an insolent procreation that wouldn’t stop screaming about something incomprehensible. All out tantrum. This is where my mother would describe the dead-fish dance.*

The dead-fish dance is when a kid throws themselves on the floor and starts flopping around like a fish out of water. Arms could be flailing, but sometimes they stay stiff at the sides and they really do look like fish out of water. Then again, it also resembles a spasmodic seizure.

In any case, every parent has been there at some point. They want something, and you tell them they can’t have it. I’d just walk away when it happened. I’d say, “You want to throw a fit? Okay. I’ll be in the car, going home.”

I’m also told if you throw a bigger fit than the child, they’ll be too embarrassed to do it again.

* Excerpt not actually spoken by my mother. Words extrapolated from countless storytelling over the years.

Never mind the fact that dead fish don’t actually move. It would more accurately be the dying fish dance, or the fish-out-of-water dance. But I digress…

The screaming went on long after the Reese’s fanatics left and well into our check-out. It rose to a point where K-mart could have probably started a sale on earplugs, duct-tape, and interrogation equipment. But the most memorable thing was what our cashier did. As he was finalizing the purchase and tearing the receipt for us, he moaned loudly and said, “Somebody get that kid a Reese’s!”

No. I didn’t have a point in telling you all that story. I just felt like sharing.

Dear Microsoft;

I do not appreciate the irrelevant changes you’ve made to Office that belligerently destroys all things familiar to the user (as is par with you considering every other known version of Office). I was hoping that you would learn from your mistakes and stick with an interface that users could recognize instead of implementing wholly new half-baked ideas that leave everyone lost and groping for concepts like “Save As.”

Further, Vista (and Windows 7 by extension) are illegitimate brain-children and should be discontinued for the bellicose and knavish offspring that they are. We all know you’re trying to look better, but stealing visualizations and throwing former resemblances into the wind only make you look as foolish as you are disparate.

How about concentrating your energy in something that works before you make it look pretty? Function before form. American marketing has proven you can sell anything to anyone. And I’m sure that your 1 billion pc users are well on that trail of actualization no matter how many times they see Jerry Sinfeild making Bill Gates wag his fanny on camera. Perhaps if you had something worth buying, the internet community would stop wasting their time pirating you to get your services for free.

Thank you,
Raul

Dear Apple;

I don’t think anyone has had the guts to tell you this, because you are so wonderful and gracious to us peons, but… $700 is entirely too much for a phone! Further, price-cuts to your other products will not make it easier to sneak a $700 price tag under our noses. It’s to a point that I’m not entirely sure what market you are playing for, and it is really starting to show that you think we are dumb.

For example: the lovely OS 3.o software you just released for all iPhones. I have to tell you I am terribly disappointed in you for not including some of the other special features that should have come with it. How hard is it, oh masters of meticulousness, to include voice commands into a phone with a pre-existing microphone? Hmm? Or could you explain to me how I may use MMS (as wonderful as it is) if your carrier doesn’t even support it yet?

Which reminds me. Your choice in friends is also questionable. AT&T is ruining it for you, and you know it. I’m not entirely sure what backdoor-schemes you’ve been forging in your off-time but you should really reconsider bringing more people into your elite posse. Like T-Mobile. Or some other carrier that, you know… Works. Or at least a carrier that actually provides the services that you’ve been advertising.

Thank you,
Raul

I’ve usually taken pride in being able to ramble off the longest word in the English language (even boasting the ability to spell it!). People would say, “Raul, what’s that really long word?” and without hesitation I’d reply, “Pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanoconiosis.” And thus, the jaws would drop. Alternatively heads would shake.

And for you head-shakers… Yes, you may judge me; I’ll allow it this time.

However, even though it is 45 letters long, pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanoconiosis is made up. Everett M. Smith made it up in 1935 when he was the president of the National Puzzlers’ League upon their 103^rd annual meeting. And to top it off, the Oxford English Dictionary says it’s factitious (5 points to those of you who did not follow the link).

So I looked up other long words in hopes to find the real one. And then I thought I’d share them with you because I can.

I’ll first introduce to you number 4: Antitransubstantiationalist – n. (anti-tran-substantiation-alist) One who doubts that consecrated bread and wine actually change into the body and blood of Christ. Although it’s only 27 letters long, I like to give it bonus points for being 10 sylables.

3: Honorificabilitudinitatibus – n. (honor-ific-abili-tud-in-it-at-i-bus) The state of being able to achieve honours. Another 27-letter word, but I make this number 3 because it’s Shakesperean! You may find it in Love’s Labour’s Lost, act V, scene i.

2: Antidisestablishmentarianism – n. (anti-dis-establishment-arian-ism) The belief which opposes removing the tie between church and state. And who could forget the ever-popular 28-letter word?

1: Floccinaucinihilipilification – n. (flocci-nauci-ni-hi-li-pili-fication) The estimation of something as valueless. At 29 letters it’s just a bunch of latin roots with a suffix attached. “Flocci” “Nauci” “Nihili” and “Pili” all mean “little to no value.”

And although 1. is officially considered the longest word in the english language by the OED, I couldn’t help but dig up this ironic gem:

Hippopotomonstrosesquipedalian – n. (hippo-poto-monstros-esquip-e-dalian) Pertaining to a very long word. 30 letters, oh boy! And the great part is, you can make it longer by turning it into the fear of long words: Hippomotomonstrosesquipedaliaphobia. Can you imagine being afraid to say your own fear? I imagine it would be something similar to people with lisps.