Weird conversations happen in my apartment. I don’t know how or why but Rachel and I end up some of the most bizarre topics.
Monday night we started discussing what we’ve named “frists.” You know, when the forearm is so fat it blends in with the wrist? The cankle of the arm, if you will.
We spent a good 5 minutes just trying to come up with a name for this concept. The whole conversation started with us wondering just what you would call that. It was one of those “oh, did you ever see anyone with an arm cankle?” “Yeah totally! What would you call those?” conversations.
After some deliberation we decided on the term “frist”. It seemed to make sense, given that the calf/ankle combo got dubbed the cankle. But at the same time, we thought there had to be a better term. Something that flowed off the tongue a little better.
Or how about….
Yeah, we couldn’t come up with anything. So there we were. Sitting on my Ikea couch and chair respectively, pondering the name of a fat roll.
And you people think I’m not exciting.