Mun the Crabbat- Day 248 – TEDxQUT

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So I survived TEDx, it didn’t turn into the birds and my blushing was fairly in control. I am hugely relieved. I asked the audience to create a new language to write today’s story in. They went above and beyond for this challenge – thank you so much to all of you who imagined a word! Here is my story written in the language of pepshka– hover over the word for the meaning. 

Mun was a crabbat who couldn’t stop feeling glodge. He’d always hankled to find frou frou and felt a constant fomo. He’d find himself eating mooshkaka sitting on the couch hyperpondulating. His sadness was filbi and the pain it caused him was worse than kra.

Eventually he felt so inflasted that he called up Barris. Barris was the burly builder who first hired Mun to wear on hot jobs. Mun was never sure if him and Barris were frou frou or not. Barris had a habit of pralering and was always being called a tradist.

“I know what you need, a good pimo and to get your shibiyaya on!” Barris barked down the phone (his loud voice always bijared Mun). “You won’t be able to wipe the extroley off your face.”

Mun was excited, he’d always dreamed of andonating with someone. And so Barris picked Mun up in his boom boom butha, bilving, and they went to a club. But Mun did not end up andonating. Instead, he whargarbled too much umrübe juice. Clubs were not his thing and he felt more inflasted than ever. So he qwoped out of the club early and went home. That night he felt a huge pang of gatsquise, so he dreamt up a frou frou and fell into a transmoodel.

In the morning he decided to snap out of it by going for a fuddle. On the way he heard a plupie, he turned around to see a bess and felt a wrench of hypercutosis. He’d never seen something so kapoodufal, it made him feel like he was shooming. He let out a stramboli and picked it up. The puppy woke again and licked his face. Mun felt krandle, it was a totally new feeling for him. A flombo crept up his neck and a sense of kapaous came over him. There was instant zingle between the two, and a moment of zolargralily as they huggled.

Now the two tootle about, and always feel hygge together. Mun never feels inflasted anymore, and has a great sense of abuciu.

Here is the Full Pepshka Dictionary:

Abuciu – The feeling of gratefulness of having someone by your side

Andonate – to dance awkwardly, yet passionately with a great friend who you realise may actually be the one.

Bamalam (adjective) – 1. Commonly used to describe an explosive mess. 2. Used as a description of a person capable of blowing up a conversation.

Basited – (verb) to instantly combust in a musical number. “She totally just basited in that parking lot.”

Bess – A face that you know but don’t know.

Bijare – to scare someone twice, unintentionally.

Billyabis – Eve glasses

Bilving – wearing sunglasses on top of the head.

Boom-boom-butha – a childrens’ word for cars.

Brasking – to cower from strong winds

Crabbat – Crossbreed of a ‘crab’ and a ‘hat.’

Doralimbo – (verb) Running under a sprinkler naked with a big smile on your face.

Extroleying – Extreme smiling.

Filby – (Adj.) Something without a definite shape; unclear, wobbly, amorphous

Flabberdashed –  To be inspired.

Flombo – The heat rising up my neck when I get excited.

Fomo – fear of missing out. (My high-school kids use this word)

Froufrou – best friend.

Fuddle – Walking for fun.

Gatsquise – having the urge to find or meet somebody that means the most to you.

Glodge – A feeling of wading through thickness.

Hankle –  Struggle:  I really hankled to think of a word for Freya’ writing challenge.

Huggle – to hug someone and cuddle into their chest. To be completely enveloped in someone’s arms.

Hygge (Danish) – Be comfortable and amused without doing anything exciting.

Hypercutosis – death or similar sneezy feeling when something is too adorable to handle.

Hyperponderlation – (Hyper-ponder-lation) To ponder the point of sinking into an intellectual singularity.

Inflasted – To be intensely frustrated for no good reason.

Kapaous – The feeling of peace in the midst of chaos.

Kapoodaful – Explosive beauty.

Keki – Biscuit.

Kra – the sensation of stubbing a toe.

Krandle – To overbearingly give love to.

Larsoned – To be inspired

Mooshkaka – A meal in the day when you don’t know what meal it is.

Musiculate – to engage oneself in a music/beat or any lively sound from the environment.

Pepshka – The name of a foreign language

Pimo – A drink for when one is stressed out or depressed.

Plupie – The sound a puppy makes when it falls asleep in the middle of running.

Pralering – Brag about something that should not be bragged about.

Quelping – To clap with excessive enthusiasm.

Qwop – (verb) To attempt to walk without any motor-skills resulting in a jagged stumble, which often involves falling backwards.

Runawaydrool – An individual who purposely doesn’t laugh so that their runny nose doesn’t embarrass them during a conversation, because snot might fly out of their nose.

Shibiyaya – To dance like a crazy dude.

Shoom – When you feel like you’re floating.

Stramboli – (Pronounced with gusto) an expression of earthy excitement or enthusiasm.

Thank µŧµⱴ – A very respective “appreciate” In Korean.

Tootle – To wander around visiting familiar places.

Tradist – An insult directed at a tradie such as a plumber

Transmoodeling – The act of entering into an imaginary personage and world so immersed that one becomes completely ignorant of the surrounding reality and yet interacts and reacts to changes in that reality sa they are transposed into the imaginary world.

Umrube – (noun) Grape

Wamboolzal – Dance celebration: ‘I just passed my advanced physics exam.’ ‘Let’s wamboozal!’

Whargarble – To drink something in a rushed, messy, unflattering manner.

Zingle – The chemistry you feel when you first meet someone and there’s an instant connection.

Zolagralily – To make a new friend.

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Ned the Numbat – Day 247 – Nerves

Usually on the first of every month I change my theme, but given July’s theme was “ordeal” I’m keeping it going till tomorrow since my biggest ordeal is still yet to come: my TEDx talk. Today I wrote myself a sort of nursery rhyme to try to calm me down.

Ned the Numbat was looking for Nerve. He’d been told he needed Nerve to perform the special Numbat Waddle (a prestigious performance for a young Numbat). So Ned looked high and low. He wondered what Nerve looked like, was he skinny, fat, stripey, spotty? But he couldn’t find Nerve anywhere. In the end, Ned performed the Waddle all by himself, without Nerve. Later the elder Numbat told Ned “you got a lot of Nerve!” Ned was thoroughly confused, but it didn’t matter. He was among the greats, he was a Waddler now.

 

Tank – Day 245 – Daniel

Tank had a perfect body image. He was strong, armoured, well built and had a huge powerful turret. As he rolled along humans would stop and stare. He could even silence them by shooting from his turret. The human that drove him believed in reincarnation. Every time a bomb went off near by the human would mutter to himself that he would come back as a bird in a far off forest. Tank thought this was stupid, Tank liked being Tank. Tank didn’t want to be anywhere else. But one day, a bomb did hit Tank and Tank’s human. Minutes later Tank woke up a newborn human boy in sleepy town.

People called Tank a different name now, but Tank never forgot his old life. As he grew into a man, Tank decided nature was a terrible builder. Tank was small and soft to touch, even a bit of paper could pierce his armour. He had no turret, no way of silencing others, and no one stopped to stare at him in the street. He lashed out at people often, punching and kicking, but no-one praised him for it like they used to.

One day he walked into the forest, fed up with stupid soft ugly humans. A bird soared down and landed on his shoulder as he trudged through the mud. It rested there for a long time and twittering a pretty tune. The other animals watched fascinated by the pair, and suddenly Tank had an idea. His body didn’t matter anymore, he had found a new turret: his voice.

Tank is now a great poet who silences rooms with epic tales of battle.

A while ago Daniel told me to write a story about a Tank who turned into a human and missed his turret.

Ingrown – Day 244 – Sick

My throat and ear are incredibly sore today.

“You’ve got an ingrown speech,” the doctor said. “You’re so worried about sprouting a perfect speech that it’s grown inwards in fear. Its gnarled roots are scratching at your throat and trying find their way out your ears. I hope you can unfurl it in time.”

It’s You and Me, Bum Part – Day 243 – Ordeal of Public Crying

A while ago someone told me about a young boy with a bum part (short hair part in the middle). They’d seen him standing on a busy road with his mum yelling at him, and then watched him burst into loud sobs in front of the stand still traffic jam. I felt sorry for bum part, for there are acceptable crying places (your house, in your mum’s arms and when watching the last Harry Potter) and unacceptable crying places (work, busy roads and when watching the first Harry Potter). I was glad I’d never really had to do a public cry like this. 

Until today. For the entire 241 day’s I have been writing, I have had tonsillitis on and off. I never fully recover and my immune system is pretty run down from it. Today I woke up feeling pretty crummy for what feels like the millionth time, so I headed off to the doctor. On the way I couldn’t stop thinking about how behind I am on study and how nervous I am about my TEDx talk, by the time I got in I was pretty fragile. I ended up just like bum part, crying at the doctor and then at the waiting room as I fled the scene… and then through the busy CBD streets as I tried to get home. It wasn’t pretty. So this story is dedicated to bum part- I understand man- sometimes everything is just too much.

Angular figures fill the streets, cinched and shaped by suits, heels, and belts. The Mess stands out like a politician at a rave. Her nose is a swamp, her eyes are clouds swollen with rain and her emotions seep from her skin leaving a trail behind her. The angular figures pretend not watch as the Mess passes them. The Mess knows they are watching, but it’s too late to stop. She rides it out and eventually the gushing worries slow to a trickle. She leaves them on street to rot. Tomorrow she’ll cinch herself back in and join the angular figures hopping nimbly over the mess.

Why Moles are Better Than Us- Day 242 – Air-raid shelter Historian

Moles build the most intricate palaces and fight the fiercest battles. For living in the dark, damp earth means seeing isn’t necessary, but imagination is vital. Their minds light up the dark corridors with strange creatures, vibrant artwork and colours that don’t even exist outside their minds. 

Inspired by a story my nanna told me today about the ordeal of the war, and her tiny, amazing History teacher who used to teach while they sat in the dark air-raid shelters.