Succumbed – Succambe – Succame

Every time I hear the word ‘succumbed’ my brain cringes.

To succumb is to give way, yield, submit and/or die. These are all rather emphatic things to be doing and I get that giving up, yielding and/or dying is quite well alluded to by the firm and final sound of a -d.

But I think this misses the point, a lot like SBS missed the point when I rang up to ask them if they were truly serious using the phrase ‘possibly immanent’ on live TV.

I get that succumbing is final, but the whole point of succumbing is the fact that you have resisted the giving way, yielding, submitting and/or dying, for what was probably quite a considerable length of time.

When it finally happens it’s not going to be sudden or unexpected. More than likely it’s going to wash over you like a warm and bloody wave: slightly metallic in flavour, if the written accounts of the taste of blood are to be believed. Which leads me to the question, why don’t they ever describe metal as tasting like blood?

Anyway, should you ever find that I have given up, yielded, submitted and/or died, know that I succambe.

Fit, Fits, Fat

It really is that simple.

Fitted – pffft.

sneak, sneaks, snuck

(they do allow this, but they are trying sneaked where ever they can)

Regular Verbs Suck Arse

Irregular verbs: those few remaining doing words that have stood up to the word fascists and kept their random and bedraggled little endings intact.

These poor little buggers are hunkered down in some 18th century fort taking hits from every side by people with rulers and powerpoint presentations.

In their defence, I am going to turn the bureaucrats’ ultimate weapon back on themselves – a list!

HenceForth!@ I am going to create a list of all the verbs that have been hoodwinked, bamboozled, shamozzled and straight out bumjacked (yes, they even let you regularise verbs you make up – fuckers) into the sordid and dreary world of the bureaucrat: which is French for people with little or no imagination.

I’ll start with ‘glide’

If gliding made a sound, I’m willing to bet my shiniest five yen coin that it would go onomatopoeia on our asses.

Glide just glides. It glides so well it almost slides, but has a neat little ‘gl’ up its front stop it from doing that.

So here’s what’s essentially a perfect verb until you get to it’s past tense

Glided!

What The Fuck?

Glided, for the love of all that is filled with tea! Any kind of awesomeness your glide may have had just got spear tackled by a streaking heckler.

Whichever retarded linguist/author/queen’s good man decided to whack two consonants onto the end of this thing should be taken outside and forced to learn Estonian.

Did you slided? No, you slid. & I glid.