The Big Book of Bunkum by Victoria Elizabeth, (better known as H.R.H. The Quipping Queen & Empress of Eccentricity), is a luscious lexicon of loquacious literature and loose logic as can be seen from the following potty preface and inconsequential introduction.

PREFACE

Let's get three things straight.

1. Any reference to far-flung factoids are entirely fatuous figment of an overly active imagination. If there is any grain of truth embedded these wonky words, I can assure that it is quite by accident, since deep thinking is not the author's strong suit.

2. As for the cut-and-paste contributions, they, like their authors, are quite contrived so as to protect the identity of those behind "cirumjovialism", (a little known philosophy espoused by The International Society of Laughing Buddhas and the Creative Loafing Institute).

3. With the exception of the "Gagrakacka Mind Zone", all other amusing and somewhat strange placenames really do exist on world maps.

INTRODUCTION

The Big Book of Bunkum began as a trip down Memory Lane.

Somewhere between Cloud Nine and Never-Never Land, I got lost. Frankly, this was a highly likely outcome since travel agents are not in the habit of supplying mind maps for trips down Memory Lane; they figure you know your way around.

As I recall, after counting far too many shoddy shaggy sheep one evening in late July 1996, I found myself standing in a Toronto airport departure lounge where I was trying to hail a passing ship in the night and catch my train of thought, all at the same time. This was a difficult if not impossible task. But, before I could complete it, I found myself sitting in a poorly-heated vehicle in the middle of winter trying to grab a bit of shut-eye on a marathon 10-hour bus ride from Thompson to Winnipeg, only to be awakened by testy-tongued train conductor (in the middle of a heat-wave outside of Milan, Italy) who threatened to call the constabulary if I didn't pay my first-class fare at the next station.

Now all I had to do was figure out what all these clues had to do with the price of tea in China or my vagrant, vacillating if not somewhat variegated state of mind. The answer would come eight years later, and not a moment too soon!

Since my noodle appeared to be limp (not unlike like my hooters), I wondered what a vixen does on her night off besides doing her daily kick-boxing and smile exercises, cranking up the marching band mood music, and pouring another stiff drink with no celery sticks, sprigs of mint leaves or little umbrellas.

Thank goodness, I didn't have to ponder that one too long. After all, if someone like Margaret Atwood could chuck her pithy prose career to explore her inner nitwit by writing children's stories, there were certainly oodles of opportunity for a buxom broad with a few loose marbles like me to have fun.

Twenty years spent in the world of bafflegab, ballyhoo and buzzwords led me to a compelling conclusion. There truly is a place for bosh in our ballyhoo world and an unmet need for an authoritative book on bunkum.

And, who better to write the Big Book of Bunkum than a ludicrous lady of leisure with ambient airwaves and an incredibly large dictionary at her disposal.

So without further adieu, may I welcome you to my wonderful world of "wordpeckery", where whimsy and wit find common cause by delighting even the most crotchety crones or crusty curmudgeons of our tantalizingly twisted-tongued and saucy scallywagging society.

battynort (n.) a fly-by-night sort of fear-factor-less type

e.g. The born-again battynort picked up his pluck not to mention his trusty rattle-bladder filled with genetically-modified, blight-resistant, super-sized peas designed to scare off uninvited guests and wilderness pests, when he noticed a lurid-looking, non-fiction how-to bestseller (conveniently lying ever so quietly on the salt flats beneath the heavy hoof of his spitting camel named "Humptulips") which turned out to be a good deal more inviting than wading through the first chapter of The Magic of Telephone Evangelism (by Harold E. Metcalf published by the Southern Union Conference of Atlanta, Georgia in the year of our Lord 1967).

Contributed by: John Spinks Swoop, resident of Peach Bottom Virginia and Member of the Ancient Order of Modern Troglodytes, Past President of the Little League of Holy Humbug, and Purple-Hearted Patron of the Grand Cabal of Able-Bodied Sedentarians.

chintzy-chinwagger (n.) one who bends your ear for three hours, blows you kisses, and then has the unmitigated gall to assume that you'll pick up the tab including the seven course victuals plus the vermouth cocktails

e.g. The chintzy-chinwagger known to family and friends as Laurence LeGrunt II heaved a sigh of relief at not having to pay for a liquid lunch by virtue of his innate ability to let loose on cue five mighty belches, nine gentle burps, and twenty-two clouds of formidable flatulence plus the odd noxious ill-wind or three.

Contributed by: Panajotis Glick, who charmed audiences with his acting ability as a chunky, chicken-like bird with a reputation for being absurdly stupid and the added hereditary misfortune of possessing a lunatic trill resembling a cuckoo with hiccups, in a play few have every heard of, Do Birds Really Burp?, performed by the Pooh-and-Punky Players, an amateur troupe of ho-ho-ho-ing thespians from Pooh Lake and Punkydoodles Corners, Ontario.

dinglewort (n.) one whose deep-musing and swooning days are over

e.g. Having committed a major faux-pas with the wicked wenches from the Castle of Kerfuffle, and trifled with the off-beat affections of one too many truculent hand-maidens from "The Merry Minx Menagerie", the disquixotted, dansey-headed dinglewort sipped on a pint of piffle...(after jotting down the outline of his flash fiction autobiography entitled, "The Life and Times of a Consolation Prize Carpet Knight", and before visiting the "Ho-Ho-Ho Healing Spa" with a Christmas gift certificate from the Duchess of Dither who thought he needed to gently massage his well-worn laugh lines, rejuvenate his sagging cross-eyed spirit, and remove the excess wax and Q-tips from his Klingon-like ears).

Contributed by: George Buzznack, sole proprietor of "Sweet Nothing Shoppe" in Smackover, Arkansas and a quaint odds 'n' ends store called "Frognot Fashions" in Toad Suck, Arkansas.

flatterchatter: (n.) descriptive of one with an incredible if not insatiable appetite for all forms of adulation, praise and recognition; (note: if the eyes are bigger than the head, it's a dead-giveaway)

e.g. Before sitting down at her desk as supervisor of a state-of-the-art, brand-name, bagless, self-cleaning, upright vacuum Customer Service Center, Francine Frogworthy took a moment to reflect on life and adjust her durable, rechargeable, long-life battery lit, rust-proof, user-friendly titanium tiara with a high gloss finish featuring an embedded portable MP3 player including a built-in noise canceling system, digital mega bass and enhanced sonic performance not to mention a cordless phone with Call-Waiting/Caller ID, a do not disturb and mute button, a 40 name and number memory, melody ring tones, not to mention a VIP alert service and three snug-fitting, soft-silicone, full-range earbuds plus a color-coordinated, integrated, detachable neck strap; although much to her surprise she had to admit that today she was feeling a tad morose in the absence of her daily dose of flatterchatter provided by the minor minions reporting to her.

Contributed by: Wickwillow Tump, a distributor of tear resistant, odor absorbent, leak-proof training pads for pooches and seasonal resident of North Piddle (Worcestershire).

nixpert (n.) one who is paid to delete expletives, after the fact, from public comments made by very important people whose brazen bit of blankety blank blather was inadvertently broadcast to every one and his dog, proving once again the vital role played by the Booboisie

e.g. As the President of Pancakes, Popcorn & Porkbellies leaned over to ruminate upon a big baloney sandwich recently rescued from a plate of wimpy watercress wedgies, he noticed that his eminent colleague, (a blatherskite from Bubble & Squeak Land) had what appeared to be a stupefied look on his usually misbegotten mug featuring a rather sanctimonious stiff upper lip; he then realized that his blase brand of blurts and bleeping boo boos about how to send unwelcome relatives and vexing visitors packing with the aid of voice-activated whoopee cushions and 'smart' stink bombs would undoubtedly keep the army of nixperts on the government payroll employed for yet another day in the larger than life saga of the greatest grand pooh bah the world had ever known.

Contributed by: Suzie and Shuck Low-Beer, high-school sweethearts from way back then and currently co-owners of the George & Dragon Suds Shoppe, in Dry Prong, Louisiana

umdrum (n.) [um]+[drum] the pregnant pause associated with a pathetic person, a prosaic place, or a thankless thingummy gone thereabouts and that one wishes one had not encountered in the first place; not to be confused with other commonly known pregnant pauses such as "ah", "er", or "uh", or "dram", a small portion of drink that one could consume to forget all about an "umdrum"

e.g. As Sir Prance-A-Lot, (a colorful Carpet-Knight of some renown), approached the curious castle made of Owyhee Idaho spuds containing sugar, corn syrup, coconut, partially saturated vegetable oil plus one or more of the following: cottonseed, soybean, palm, not to mention cocoa powder, chocolate liquor, egg albumen, agar agar, salt, lecithin (an emulsifier), vanillin (an artificial flavor), potassium sorbate (a preservative) and sulfites, he had a nagging umdrum that he should have brought along his pair of spanking new spurs, his favorite hobbyhorse and his swishy swashbuckling sword to ward off any cookie monsters or candy trolls lurking about in the freaking forest run by a sourpuss named "Snow White" and a band of blowhards identified by authorities as "The Seven Deadly Dwarfs".

Contributed by: Sally Spinwam, "Our Lady of Lite Libations", and born-again bartender at the Church of Chuckles located on a highway off-ramp approximately half-way between a destination hot tub restor in Red Sucker Lake, Manitoba and a tantalizing town in the province of Nova Scotia called "Petoobook", a marvellous Mi'kmaq term meaning "a long dish full of salt water".

wazoople (n.) a member of the kowtowing, mealy-mouthed, apple-polishing, brown-nosing, sucky-faced, toad-eating family of frightfully fawning fruitcakes

e.g. Ruina didn't know quite what to expect from this blind date, but from everything her friends had told her about the weak-kneed wazoople who occupied cubicle #33 beside the water cooler just three steps away from the ladies' loo and the vexing vending machine that made stale soup every Thursday, he certainly seemed like a harmless enough fellow; after all, she wasn't exactly a long-legged, high-stepping, tap-dancing member of the world-famous Radio City Rockettes, but in a pinch she knew how to bat her eyelashes unobtrusively and smile since having her braces removed last week, and could maneuver majestically around a dance floor provided she wore a grade-A girdle, two pairs of pantyhose, and had access to a music map with a built in Global Positioning System lest she lose the beat or her way, whichever came first.

Contributed by: Oughterby Papigochic, a part-time airline baggage-handler from Frying Pan, California who in his spare time just adores leaping onto tables with sword in hand and pulling battleaxes, coats-of-arms, and miscellaneous muskets off the wall in one fell swoom, just to impress anyone who will watch him in the faint hope that they might help him realize his lifelong ambition, to land a walk-on part in a Hollywood horror film.