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These Are Not Your Father’s OldsmoWheels

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How’s about we try something a little different this time?

(No, really, c’mon — it’ll be fun. Okay, fine, I promise you won’t have to dress up like Little Bo Peep again. And no, I won’t blindfold you and make you smell things. What? No, it doesn’t involve whipped cream. Or honey. Or kielbasa.

(Not any more, anyway…)

No, look, it’s just a little good, clean fun, all right? For once. So just hear me out, and see what you think, and then you can decide whether you like it or not. Okay? There’s nothing sick or kinky about it; it’s just a simple party game that you can play with friends, and it doesn’t involve anything more than made-up words and maybe a couple of giggling fits. Well, a little beer helps, to lube up the old brain, but that’s it. There’s no stripping, or licking, or grinding, or spewing of any kind involved, all right? Just a harmless little game, so get over it, okay? Good. Now go put on these nipple clamps, so we can get started…)

“They may be able to handle vice presidential duties at a major corporation while in their sorry sotted condition, but for this game, they’re just so many useless piles of flesh.”

So here’s how it works. Actually, let me first offer up the blog equivalent of ‘Stop me if you’ve heard this one before’. See, I was introduced to this game almost ten years ago, and so I suspect that there are many others by now who’ve been exposed to it (or have exposed themselves to it, or even to the other people playing it — sadly, I don’t get invited to those sorts of parties any more…). Anyway, I whipped up a batch of web searches for the type of thing I’m about to describe, and came up with only one site, so maybe it’s still an underground type of thing. Or maybe I don’t know how to search correctly, like 98% or so of the web weenies out there. Or maybe this is just a stupid game, and it’s not worth all the damned energy and attention I’m now giving it. No matter, me pretties — we’ll soldier on, regardless.

With that said, here’s a cute little exercise that you can snicker about with your friends.

(And really, isn’t that infinitely better than being snickered at by someone and their friends while you’re trying to exercise? Or do yoga? Or ‘sculpt’ some part of your anatomy? Sadly, I’m not allowed in those sorts of gyms anymore…)

Anyway, the goal of the game is to come up with the best (read: rip-roarin’ rib-ticklin’est) nonsensical name for a car that doesn’t actually exist yet. Play an automotive advertising executive for a day!

(Just remember to take a long, disinfecting shower afterward. Tomato sauce helps, too, if you’ve done a particularly realistic job of role-playing, and are having trouble purging the stench.)

So there really aren’t any rules to this game, per se, at least not as I’ve played it. It doesn’t even really have a name, come to think of it, though I’ll see if I can materialize one by the time I’m done here. The only object is to formulate clever fake names, so it helps if you have four or more people to feed off each others ideas. Obviously, you’re gonna want plenty of beer as well, or an alternative liver-busting libation of your choice.

Also, as far as I know, there aren’t any winners or losers in this game (though as we used to tell ourselves around the campfire, ‘We’re all losers here’). Rather, it’s mainly a way to exercise your brain while feeding your buzz on an otherwise quiet Sunday afternoon. Or on a Friday night, if you’re the stay-at-home type. Or for that matter, at nine o’clock on Tuesday morning, if you’re the raging alcoholic type, though you may find it difficult to round up fellow players at that hour. Well, players who are capable of sitting upright under their own power, or rubbing enough neurons together to be useful contributors, at least. They may be able to handle vice presidential duties at a major corporation while in their sorry sotted condition, but for this game, they’re just so many useless piles of flesh. Tsk.

There’s no right or wrong way to play this game-that-currently-has-no-name, of course, but I can detail a few common strategies, if you’re interested. Or even if you aren’t; your participation isn’t really required at this stage. Anyway, the naming usually follows along one of these threads:

• Simple manipulation of existing car name (Example: Chevy Astro => Chevy Asstro)
• Change of existing car name to disparaging term (Example: Dodge Dart => Dodge Dirt)
• Morph of existing car name to common term (aka Bermanism) (Example: BMW M3 => BMW MST3K)
• Rhyming or alliteration to create new car name (Example: Dodge HodgePodge)
• I think you pretty much get the picture — it’s not rocket science or anything…

So that’s about all there is to it, really. You get yourself and a few of your closest amigos two, maybe two-and-a-half, sheets to the wind, and then start trying to come up with a funny name, or preferably with the name that will cause your compatriots to spew beer out their noses and into the pretzel bowl.

(Okay, so I lied earlier — there is a little bit of spewing involved, if you do it right. And aren’t all of the best things in life that way?)

So, assuming this sounds like any fun at all to you (and it does; trust me, I checked), I thought I’d get you started on your journey with a few examples. Now, frankly, I expect you — each and every one of you bright-eyed little dearies — to brainstorm better material than what I’m about to post, for the following reasons:

A) I haven’t played this game for a few years, and so I’m not savvy to many of the newly minted jibberish names currently in play

2) I’m coming up with these examples by myself (sad, isn’t it?), so I don’t have anyone else’s better ideas to work from

III) Most importantly, I am currently completely, regrettably, hauntingly, achingly sober. Which is never good.

So, without further ado, I bring you a small sampling of what you might expect if you too become a participant in… (*thinking, thinking*) the… um, the Fahrvegnaming game! (How’s that for a name on the spur of the moment, eh? Yay, me!)

the Ford Bore-Us

the Chevy Suck-Bourbon

the Volvo Vulva

the AMC Poser (for you old-schoolers out there)

the Volkswagen Pissant (or the VW Pass Out)

the Nissan Haltima

the Yugo No-Go

the Hyundai(!) Gesundheit

the Subaru Rusty Justy

And, ending the list on a high note:

the Toyota Turdra (sometimes they’re almost too easy…)

Hey, while we’re at it, here’s the one site that I was able to find in my search for this type of thing. Hers are at least as good as the sad sober specimens I slapped down in this post, but I did the best I could without some heavenly hoppy help. So, that’s what I’ve got — please, feel free to get hammered and come up with better examples, and even post ’em in the comments if you like. Just be sure that you write the best ones down before you start working on that hangover, ‘k? Otherwise, you’ll forget which one it was that made you pee your pants, and brother, that’s just wasting good pee.

As for me, it’s lunchtime now, so I’m gonna sign off, and think about some food. Hey, maybe I’ll head out to grab a bite to eat in my Nissan Gluteus Maxima. (*snicker*) Ah, good times. Good times…

CRAP (see this post for the CRAP 411):

Update on July 5 —

Heard on Car Talk on NPR this morning:

the Mercury Mistake

Hee! Oh, what the hell, as long as I’m here:

the Mazda Why-I-Oughta

the Toyota Sell-This-Ca’

the GMC Germy

the Isuzu Shih Tzu (though you might want to spell it Shit-zu)

the Toyota Turd-cel

the Ferrari Testosterona

the Chrysler Le Boring

the Cooper Super Duper

the Honda Accordian

the Chevy Mali-Screwed

Okay, I think that’ll hold me for a while.

(And why the hell am I sober again while I’m doing this?! *fume*)