Many years ago, Royce and Jana (the “untamed librarian,” in Royce’s words) were taking an abnormal psychology class together.
One slow day, they decided to relieve their in-class boredom by stringing together every symptom they could think of into one long word…then figure out what it meant.
The result:
Pseudocoitoxenohematomysonecropyrobestioacroclaustro-ochlohydrophobia: The fear of being forced to pretend to have sex with the unfamiliar bloody infected corpse of a flaming animal at 15,000 feet in a small crowded wading pool.
Later on, when I was hanging out in the Yahoo chat rooms, I attempted to use this for a screen name, but it was far too long. Instead, I pared it down to pyropedonecrobestiality, and used that as my default chat name. One day the name caught the eye of someone else in the chat room, who figured that anyone who’d use that for a name had to have both a sense of humor and a few brain cells to rub together, and they struck up a conversation…
…and that’s how Prairie and I first started talking. Eventually (after somewhere over a year) we actually met in person, and things gradually went on from there, but at least at the beginning…
Yup.
I met my girlfriend because the chat name I was using declared that I was sexually aroused by having intercourse with the flaming corpse of an underaged puppy.
Bet’cha there’s not too many people who can make that claim when asked how they met their significant other.
“Mind Your Own Business” by Pigface from the album Easy Listening… (2002, 3:25).
