(Pick one, or two, or ALL of them)
Boor - uncultured person
Boer - South African of Dutch descent
Boar - wild animal of porcine nature
Bore - person who inspires boredom (or the internal diameter of a cylinder)
Bohr - (Neils) Danish physicist, 1922 Nobel Prize in Physics.
"Oh, shut up," he says, shaking his head. "Is it bore, boor or boar?"
I curl my lip. "You are a huge dork, you know this right?"
He nods and again points to the test on my kitchen table.
"D. All of the above."
He doesn't look amused.
"Freakin' hell, Jackson!" I hate test prep. And more than that, I hate being tutored by Jackson Hill who is a bore spelled B-O-R-E.
"You can kiss college goodbye," he mumbles, as if this one question will be the deciding factor.
My cell phone rings and I smile broadly. "Sorry," I say to Jackson taking it out.
"Don't answer that," he warns.
I laugh and he grabs the phone out of my hand and holds it up and out of my reach.
"What are you doing?" I yell, listening as the phone stops ringing.
"Susan Albasher," he announces, his face filled with determination. "I love you."
Crap. I'd rather spend eternity in test prep.
Awe. Way to go Jackson!ReplyDelete
Awwwwww! I want to spend some time in test prep too!ReplyDelete
I heart you, Jackson. I was/am you.ReplyDelete
Copenhagen, Early October 1941ReplyDelete
Heisenberg sat in a burgundy leather club chair in the elegantly appointed drawing room, discussing his uncertainty and atomic principals over brandy and cigars with several known and respected scientific men of the day.
“I taught him everything he knows,” quipped Niels Bohr, upon entering the room and hearing his former assistant - and former friend - discourse on the familiar subject matter.
Heisenberg didn’t seem to take the jibe too well, but did not come back with a clever rejoinder, either. However, sometime afterwards, both men went outside, ostensibly to discuss issues of nuclear energy, war effort and (as was subsequently hinted at) their differences of opinion on morality, as it was currently being served up in Central Europe.
Later that evening, as Heisenberg played a Mozart Sonata for the general entertainment of those still remaining in the drawing room, he also made an effort at being witty by saying, “Ah, poor Bohr. I would say he is a wild boar, but people of his persuasion – or so I hear – tend to avoid that sort of thing. So instead, let me just say that he is an unqualified bore, and we’ll leave it at that.”
Bohr looked up from his book and smiled. “Ah...verbal nuclear warfare! Well you, my dear sir, are indeed a boor for saying such things. This, in my humble estimation, is infinitely worse. Ergo, I believe I shall henceforth call this statement of fact my Uncomplementarity Principle.”
(Well...I got four of 'em in the story. Just couldn't fit 'Boer' in it too. Dang!)ReplyDelete
*scraping bow to Lighty*ReplyDelete
Suzanne, I must add my "awwww" as well. So cute!!ReplyDelete
RJ ( I just can't call you 'Lighty' because that belongs to B.!) that was amazing. But I'm disappointed that you couldn't figure out a way to use 'Boer'. hahaha
Sean Collins and I met through work. I manage a retail shop in West Hollywood and he patrols the neighborhood for the Sheriff's Dept. A hot, gray-eyed hunk of man that made me forget the reason I called the dept. that October night. Shoplifters, right.ReplyDelete
The neighborhood is rife with crime and shady characters. I'm on a first name basis with most of the deputies. Everyone I had encountered was a boor. A mass of muscle with not much between the ears.
The scenery was nice but I was tired of 'just the facts, please'. These guys had seen it all and only wanted to get through their shift. What a bore.
My staff consisted of college students and gay men. While I have nothing against either, I am a single straight female over the age of 20. Engaging in witty reparte with a hot straight man over the age of 20 was a daily goal.
I achieved my goal that October night.
Hello new guy with sexy eyeglasses and wicked short haircut!
"Shoplifting team, same bunch that hit us last week..." God, those glasses were hot. I wonder what it would feel like to run my hand over the top of his short hair.
"Alright then, we're done? What, coffee tomorrow night? Sure!"
And then I watched him saunter off into the West Hollywood night. The sauntering was enhanced by the fact that he wore a Kevlar vest and a massive belt with gun, club, cuffs and other crap attached. One can't help but saunter.
So, the next night we had coffee. Sean talked a lot about himself. Typical male. Then he asked what I did in my spare time.
"I write young adult books," I said shyly.
"What's your favorite book of the moment?" He was truly interested.
"The Green Glass Sea," I answered without hesitation. "Takes place in Los Alamos, New Mexico in the 40's, about a girl trying to fit into this place where her father is working..."
"on the atom bomb," Sean finished for me.
I tilted my head in amazement.
"I've read a lot about that time period and Niels Bohr." He smiled.
I was in love.
Our subsequent encounters were equally benign. Breakfast. Movies. Bike riding on the beach. Maybe my gaydar was broken.
Stephanie, my psychic healer, was adamant.
"You two have past life history," she announced. "What can you tell me about this Sean?"
I bit the inside of my lip, thinking. "Well, the strangest thing," I said thoughtfully. "It was like a dream really."
"Go on," she urged.
"I touched his shoulder one day and was weirdly transported into a vision." I was only just recalling this.
"He was slumped against a tree in a desert-like place." I began to cry softly. "There were two arrows piercing his chest." I couldn't control the sobbing now.
Stephanie closed her eyes, tuning into my vision.
"This man was a soldier in the Boer War in South Africa," she said. "You were betrothed, yet he insisted on fighting this war."
I wiped my eyes.
"Sean and two other soldiers had gone into the brush to kill wild boar for sport, when a group of native people stumbled upon them."
I was completely engrossed in the story.
"Not understanding what these white men were up to, the people felt threatened. They attacked."
Stephanie raised her brows in conclusion. "They left the men to die. You never saw him again."
Whatever the circumstances, Sean and I never did come to any romantic conclusion. Just as it may or may not have happened in a past life.
"It's Bezoar, Harry, not Bore." Hermione said, sounding irritated. "I've told you three times already."ReplyDelete
"Bore, Boar, Bezoar. What's it matter anyway?"
"Well, it just so happens, Harry, that one could save your life," she said, snapping closed the book that sat infront of her. "And the other two are just descriptions of you and Ron." She shot up from the table in the library where they'd been studying and stormed off.
"Wait!" yelled Ron, ignoring Madam Pince's glare. "Which one does that make me?"
**I'm rereading the series (again), so I've got HP on the brain.
Deb - You did it! You got all five!!! Amazin'!ReplyDelete
This story - ermmm - sauntered!
Emily - lol!!! Fanfic with a twist! What a riot!ReplyDelete
(PS - I'm a huge fan of HP too!)ReplyDelete
There is a site that just set up a section on HOMONYMS call ChillaPedia, quite cool. Take a look at their HOMONYMS here:ReplyDelete
You can contribute some to their pedia!