I’m sure that I don’t deserve it, but yesterday, Anne called me a varlet and a pincock. On our anniversary, I might add. She was searching for new expletives and she didn’t want to sound like her mother. (Well, I’m certainly not going to touch that last part.) A varlet in modern usage is simply a valet and if she want’s to walk all over me and treat me like a common servant, well, who am I to say no? But in Shakespearian English, a varlet is a despicable man, which is not what I am. I don’t even recall why she went down this path. As I’ve said, I’m sure that I don’t deserve this. But if she want’s to call me a varlet then so be it. It’s water off this duck’s back.
What I do take exception to is pincock, which isn’t even an expletive, although it certainly sounds like one. The only references I could find on Google was as a family name. If you ask me, this opens up a whole new can-of-worms for those people, but that’s not at all germane here. To put it in a more modern context, for you tech savvy readers out there in internet-land, it’s like she’s giving a one-star Yelp review of me in bed. This isn’t fair, because as the reader can plainly see, there are two fruits from our once blissful marriage. So, I think that I deserve at least a two-star Yelp review. Continuing with this pseudo technology, fake sex diatribe, all this repudiation of me, just makes me feel micro-soft.