Miscommunication
Some relationships just aren’t meant to be. Look at us: I say “peltry” and you say “poultry.” I’m talking about pelts, and you’re talking about chickens. You might think they’re pretty much the same thing, but they’re not. You bring up the fact that animals are involved with both, and I concede that point, but keep trying to explain that the differences are still huge.
These are completely different things.
Then I say “lamprey eel” and you say “lantern sill.” I don’t even know what a lantern sill is. You try to convince me that it’s the only appropriate place to put a lantern when it’s not in use, and then go off on a 74-minute explanation of how lamprey eels also deserve their own sill, and how these are basically the same thing.
I don’t believe anything you say after this point.
I say “discordant symphony” and you say “discolored shampoo.” This time you don’t even try to debate their similarities, even though there are some obvious connections. Could the symphony be used to discolor the shampoo? If the music is discordant enough, wouldn’t the very color of anything in earshot be forced to change? I’d almost be willing to reconcile with you on this one, but you don’t even try to argue it, so what’s the point?
I say “sardines” and you say “Sardinian.”
I say “a complete lack of sardines” and you say “a compile lock in the system.”
I say “what do you have against sardines?” and you say “what do you serve on salmon platters?”
I shouldn’t feel the need to explain it, but here it is. It has to be over after this. Our communication is just… what’s the word? Cornipital? Yeah, that’s the right word. Our communication is completely cornipital these days. I don’t think there’s any way back from that.
If anyone has similar stories of cornipital communication issues, leave them below. If we don’t learn our cornipital history, we are doomed to repeat it, most likely by spending time in a leaky boat.