Sunday, May 18, 2014

The Scrabble-Gods Must Be Crazy

Mom and I (top-left and bottom-right) bested Dad and Yume (top-right and bottom-left), 197-142. I seem to have found a few cryptic messages from the Scrabble-Gods in this one. Read below:

"Heed me, sir." (Uh, okay…)
"You atone, lint." (But I'm not Catholic. Oh wait! Different 'lent.' Hold on! Was that an insult, Scrabble-Gods?)
"Jobs view: void year." (Yeah, it hasn't been going well, I'll give you that…)
"Speedy hare eat vigor, hung six weeks." (Is that like some kind of bad translation of a Chinese folk cure for erectile dysfunction?)
"Death fears tan oil: mop up rugs, oar closet." (This sounds important. Okay, so to avoid skin cancer, I've got to … clean the carpet and storage at the laguna? You sure you're okay, Scrabble-Gods? Sure that's not an 'or' in there, like you're giving me a choice? Clean the rugs OR the closet?)
"Uncle, Sir Doormat." (There we go with the insults again. Wait, does that mean you give up? Ah-ha, I win!)