An American Lion

An old friend from my Princeton days sent me a rather lengthy E-mail, asking about my general well-being and the like. When you're my age, you keep score by discussing surgeries, failures, and convictions. That's an old business school joke. Anyway, this old pal of mine once helped me liberate some beer kegs from a liquor store (statute of limitations be damned) and we were able to hole up in an abandoned church and drink for days on end.

His story referenced how I barfunked Babs Worthington one morning when she tried to serve us bacon sandwiches. "Barfunked" is a word I invented decades ago, but I haven't heard it since those days.

To barfunk someone is to throw up all over them and have it smell 'funky.'

Do you know how one can throw up and it won't smell?

Well, that's called vomiting on someone, and I cannot take credit for inventing that word. I did coin the word "barfunked" to describe how one could throw up on someone and have it smell so bad that they immediately vomited.

In the case of Babs, well. Babs was a wild girl  with the constitution of a teamster. She smelled incredibly bad, but she was still able to go pick us up breakfast without even noticing the state of her pink dress or her hair.