Great story! I never knew that you American people knew the word ‘ponce’. It somehow felt too English to survive export. Next thing you’ll be telling me that you have ‘nonce’ freely available (prison slang for a paedophile), which only gained wider circulation in the late 90s here in England, and is now rapidly moving towards being an ironic term of affection, like ‘cunt’ or ‘wanker’, though I advise extreme caution for any non-natives attempting to use it, as contextual allowances are extremely nuanced.
"Cunt" is really the only word that properly describes a real cunt. Using it in the British way means that when you playfully say it to your mother she gets real mad.
Cintra Wilson is a writer engineering disparate new models of linguistic stewardship that bear profoundly humorous witness to the transformative articulation of language intersecting with cultural experience. She write good.
Whenever I get a notification that you have a new piece of writing, I get as excited as hearing the sound of a slot machine paying off. I always stop whatever I am doing and just read/listen just marveling at your use of language. I was so disappointed at the end of the story, then I stopped and looked around feeling bereft and then noticed that I was holding a cold unopened Coke up in the air the entire time. And now my thumb hurts.
What a good story, and it made me think of all those odd encounters with those drivers I met hitchhiking. Thank goodness I was too big to be molested, though not too big to be propositioned.
I loved this! It reminded me of my own hitchhiking antics around NZ and Europe years ago - the situations of potential risk we casually put ourselves into on a regular basis that we would never dream of doing these days. I loved CCC III!
Great stuff. The world needs more Ignatius O’Reilly references. And Clayton Cubit Cartwright III! On the Ponderosa, we all called him Hoss. Someday, I hope to meet a guy named Hoss III.
A good friend of mine was the prop Master for Trailer Park Boys. He hired me once for one of the weirdest gigs I've ever had. We were tasked with dismantling Bubbles shed, trucking it in to Bubbles new bar in downtown Halifax and reassembling it at the back of the bar.
Great story! I never knew that you American people knew the word ‘ponce’. It somehow felt too English to survive export. Next thing you’ll be telling me that you have ‘nonce’ freely available (prison slang for a paedophile), which only gained wider circulation in the late 90s here in England, and is now rapidly moving towards being an ironic term of affection, like ‘cunt’ or ‘wanker’, though I advise extreme caution for any non-natives attempting to use it, as contextual allowances are extremely nuanced.
"Cunt" is really the only word that properly describes a real cunt. Using it in the British way means that when you playfully say it to your mother she gets real mad.
“…with lots of shag carpeting and spider plants and bean bag orgies.” Reminds me of my childhood. Two out of three, anyway.
2025 MacArthur Foundation Fellows
Cintra Wilson is a writer engineering disparate new models of linguistic stewardship that bear profoundly humorous witness to the transformative articulation of language intersecting with cultural experience. She write good.
Sigh. What I wouldn't do for a MacArthur. Two of my friends have them. It's not fair.
How do we get you one?
How does one nominate said linguistic steward?
Whenever I get a notification that you have a new piece of writing, I get as excited as hearing the sound of a slot machine paying off. I always stop whatever I am doing and just read/listen just marveling at your use of language. I was so disappointed at the end of the story, then I stopped and looked around feeling bereft and then noticed that I was holding a cold unopened Coke up in the air the entire time. And now my thumb hurts.
How can I send you some money to repair your car?
This is my favorite comment and the best compliment ever.
Ol' Cubit over here sounds like he'd be one of the denizens of the Regal Beagle, if it a) were real, and b) located in, or near San Francisco.
All's well that ends well?
Oh, my! Oh, my! Cintra you're my favourite.
Thank you darling Cosmas!
Next time I draw a heart in the dust on a beige vehicle, it’s going to have a big C with an arrow piercing and a few drops of blood. 🩸💘🩸
And I shall love you for it.
What a good story, and it made me think of all those odd encounters with those drivers I met hitchhiking. Thank goodness I was too big to be molested, though not too big to be propositioned.
I loved this! It reminded me of my own hitchhiking antics around NZ and Europe years ago - the situations of potential risk we casually put ourselves into on a regular basis that we would never dream of doing these days. I loved CCC III!
Great stuff. The world needs more Ignatius O’Reilly references. And Clayton Cubit Cartwright III! On the Ponderosa, we all called him Hoss. Someday, I hope to meet a guy named Hoss III.
I’m SUPER behind on all of my Substack reading, so apologies for the late comment, but I LOVED this, Cintra! 🫶🏼💗
Thank you Lady!!
😘🫶🏼
Hey what does that stack emoji mean?
Yikes!
confederacy of dunces pun, love it
Triple Ahh
That painting of ‘Sonny’ made me think of Ricky from ‘Trailer Park Boys’. https://m.imdb.com/title/tt0290988/
It IS Ricky from TPB . Good eye.
A good friend of mine was the prop Master for Trailer Park Boys. He hired me once for one of the weirdest gigs I've ever had. We were tasked with dismantling Bubbles shed, trucking it in to Bubbles new bar in downtown Halifax and reassembling it at the back of the bar.
Same!
In fact, I assumed it *was* Ricky
YOu assumed right!
great opening sentence....you used every Toole in the toolbox here
Nice one