O is for Ozostomia

I am a firm believer (and by that I obviously mean that I’ve given this a whole two seconds of thought and reckon that it might be vaguely true but can’t be arsed to do any further investigation) that using fancy words is a thoroughly acceptable way of lessening the pain and discomfort of others when delivering unhappy news. Or it makes you a bit of a dick who enjoys demonstrating their superiority over those around them at every available opportunity? It’s definitely one of the two, the use of complicated words is strictly limited to these specific reasons.

But let me ask you this, fictional readers who rarely make any kind of response to anything I say, would you rather be told that you have simply horrible and entirely repellently bad breath or that you are exhibiting a particularly intense case of ozostomia? Yeah, I know, straightforward and to the point is very nearly always the better way of doing things. To hell with treading on someone else’s finer feelings. It’s far more important that you spare yourself even a single second of having to inhale that same person’s unfortunately odoured emissions.

Bad breath can be something of a delicate issue. It can cause all sorts of problems between two people within sniffing distance. The way I’m going on about it right now might make you think that I have a certain someone in mind, a person so dear to me that I can’t quite bring myself to admit to them face to face that I can’t bear the scent wafting out of their face hole and am left with this blog as my mode of delivery for this sad admission. Well I don’t, that would be terribly rude. Don’t you know that this thing is available for the whole world to see (not that it seems to care at all)? I’d never do such a thing, I’d totally have the guts to say it to their face…


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