Special K

The fabulous Wordnerd offered this little game recently in her blog. After doing it herself, she assigned each willing participant a letter and then instructed them come up with ten words beginning with that letter along with a brief description of what those words mean to them. Good clean fun, right? Here’s mine, the first ten K-words I could think of and not in any particular order.


K: In Little League, this is what we used to shout at the opposition’s batters: K battah K battah come on he’s a whiffah K battah K battah come on SWING!

Kerosene: I worked for a house painter one summer who made me and this other kid walk into the woods near the house we were working on carrying the all dirty brushes, a five gallon can of kerosene, and a wire brush each to clean them with. I would ask, “Isn’t this kinda bad for the environment?” and the other guy would say, “Who gives a shit? Let’s clean these things so we can go home.”

Kandinsky: Reminds me of an art history class I took in a big university lecture hall where I swear they restricted the oxygen supply into the room. I think we all might have been unwitting guinea pigs in some weird oxygen-deprivation experiment. The teacher would shut off the lights, begin projecting images of paintings onto the screen up front, and I’d immediately start getting sleepier and sleepier. Some days I’d arrive at class full of energy and say to myself, “This will be the day I’ll stay awake!” but never could make it all the way through.

Kaleidoscope: I remember the first one I looked through as a kid. “Awww, wow!” I said. “Wicked!”

Kill Bill 2: I thought it was better than Kill Bill 1.

Kentucky: That’s where my Uncle GT lives. That’s where my Aunt Betty lives, too, only Uncle GT doesn’t live with Aunt Betty anymore, he lives with someone else named Ann. There’s a big, juicy story connected with that. And I ain’t tellin’.

Kilimanjaro: Cool name for a mountain, right?

Klondike Bar: Best damn ice cream bar. Ever.

Kelvin: A scale of temperature named after William Thomson, 1st Baron Kelvin. My question is, if he had a goofy-sounding title, say like 1st Baron Lululupinopolis, would it still be named after him? Could you honestly say “My God, Captain! These readings indicate 21.3 degrees lululupinopolis!” with a straight face?

Killy: As in Jean Claude Killy, the famous French skier. I like saying his name in my wretched French accent by building up to his last name: “Jean . . . Claude . . . Kee-LEE!” Sort of equal parts Maurice Chevalier, Jacques Cousteau, and Inspector Clouseau. Try it yourself — it’s fun.

Well, that’s it. If anyone wants a letter, let me know. I’ve got 26 of ’em.