I used to work with a guy who thought I was the squarest of the square people in the world. One of his key examples of this was that I enjoy playing board games with my friends at gatherings. (He, conversely, had midgets in dunk tanks and inside of large bowling ball thingees at his shindigs – seriously.) Now I may not always be the hippest cat in the pet store, but I think he exaggerated my lack of coolness a bit. That said, I can only imagine the faces and comments he’d make if I told him about how much fun I had last weekend with some friends.
There were a few couples of longtime friends and a total of six kids between us, so there wasn’t that much in the way of grown-up entertainment going on during the day. (I almost wrote “adult entertainment,” but that has a different connotation, no?) Once the kids were asleep though, we busted out the wacky fun super happy time…and the alcohol. What followed was a rousing series of Scrabble games – but not your typical Scrabble, mind you. Instead, this was Dirty Scrabble (played on a normal Scrabble board with the regular tiles). The rules were simple: your words didn’t have to be real words, but they had to be dirty in one way or another. I know it sounds simple and juvenile – and you’re 100% right – but it was also hilarious…for us at least.
The first game started off simply enough; the team didn’t have anything good, so they went with just the letter F by itself. Things got a little stranger and funnier from there. Some words you might expect, like “hole,” tata,” and “bj.” But when someone plays “nard,” another team adds “crab” to the beginning of it, and then someone later makes it “evilcrabnard,” well that’s just pure magic. I was personally proud of my use of “regonad,” a verb many eunuchs and neutered dogs would love to employ. “Slutzoo” was particularly inspired, as was the equal-opportunity “sexinoun.” All of those pale in comparison though to my two favorites on the board. First, my team played “fistee,” as in “one who gets fisted.” Not content to leave that alone, another team added to the end of it to make “fisteedent.” Yes, the physical evidence that remains after said fisting. Lovely, I know. Second, the game ended with the board asking the incredibly polite query, “mayivagu.” That’s just some glorious game-playing there, my friends.
We played the game again that night and twice more the next night, but none were as fun as the first one. (Some of the words in the second game are far too dirty for me to write here, believe it or not, and yet they weren’t as funny as our Game 1 creations. I guess novelties can wear off. Go figure.) So there you go: call it square, call it boring, or call it the opposite of midgets in big bowling balls, but when a few couples in their 30s got together and played an alcohol-aided game of Dirty Scrabble, it was a hell of a good time. I’m left with just one question: Do you think there are fisteedent wizards who repair that kind of damage?
