*Every week (ish) Rick uses a random word generator to pick a topic, and rambles on about it using related stories, thoughts, and questionable facts he thought he heard somewhere. Once finished he’ll look up the actual definition and see if he was in the ballpark.
random word: Frock
I have heard this word when describing hairdos, I think it’s a negative way of describing someone’s hair, like the hair version of the N-word or the gay F-word. I don’t believe I have ever heard it in a nice way.
“Hey check out the frock over there on the Earl of Quincy!”
Quincy of course doesn’t have an Earl, I am exaggerating for effect (see: old comedy tricks.) Quincy is not an Aristocracy, I live there and it seems more like an Plutocracy which means it is governed by those residents that have the most wealth. We’re all pretty poor so it keeps things interesting. Once I got paid $25 for a comedy show and I got to be in charge for a few days (until Dale won on a scratch ticket and now we can’t get out street plowed out.)
I wanted a Mr. T haircut when I was a kid (but mom, he’s on TV!) I was told I couldn’t have one until I was older because I would regret it. Here’s the thing with that, at 15 I did not want one, but at 15 I still wished 7 year old me had one! It would have made my teenage life so much easier! You know who wants to be friends with the 7 year old kid with the “mostly Mohawk?” EVERY OTHER KID! I would have had a stronger friend base, but instead I had a boring old bowl cut and no one liked me so I got fat.
I tried to get that Mohawk about a year ago, and when my wife picked me up from the barber, her reaction was something like:
“Nope. No, no, not gonna happen. Just no. You have to tell me things like this you know. You can’t just go get a Mohawk and expect to have a Mohawk, we are a team now and you can’t look like this.”
As a teenager I did want to dye my longish hair purple (it wasn’t obvious enough that I was a dangerous rebel.) I bought the dye one winters day and snuck off (this was common practice, I was a real shithead kid.) My mother caught me and said I had to do it outside. Little did I know it was a trick, she knew that it was too cold for the dye to set (which I still don’t understand) and I wasted my $5 (which in 1996 would have been enough money to make me a ruling Plutocrat, even in the Suburbs) and got pneumonia.
I don’t know what my penchant was for trying to be a sneak when I was a kid, but another time I dyed it black (very dangerous rebel) but I stayed up until 3am so I wouldn’t get caught. I spent the next day tiredly thinking no one noticed and I was pulling it off. Later that day I was super-grounded. I remember doing this sneak tactic once with a self ear-piercing once (I thought it was smart to use a rusty “San Diego Zoo 1970” button that was in our junk drawer.) I took the earring out every time I would be about to see my parents. It took a surprisingly long time before they noticed the swollen, bloody wound on my head. Again, super-grounded.
For a while, because of the music Video for “I Ran,” I thought the band was called Frock of Seagulls.
a woman’s or girl’s dress.
a loose outer garment, in particular.
Not even close! Now I feel like a real idiot, even after throwing out Plutocracy multiple times. At least we all got to waste time reading slightly embarrassing childhood stories about my hair. Sadly we did not get to read completely embarrassing childhood stories about my sister dressing me up as a girl and making me pretend we were twins. (making me?… honestly, I was on board.)
If at this point you are still reading this, thank you for reading this.