So often our language becomes so bland it feels like it’s been diluted with chicken milk. Or expelled from one’s dupa. It’s enough to make you schmerf. Supposably, with a blurp of inspiration, language can be epicaltastic and embiggen one’s imagination. “Fantabulous!” people will cry as they bow to your prose.

Irregardless, one must be careful, or risk embodying obnoxity, which may result in ginormous embarrassment and leave friends flustrated. Stresscalation is not a civil option. Orientate oneself to conversate conservatively with other participators.

The best strategery is reluctitude to stretch your vocabulation. Don’t misunderestimate the risks of malspeaking.

And never skonk.