Words, I need ‘em.

Over the years I’ve managed to amass a modicum of charm which I keep stuffed in the hollow of my cheek pocketed in a small velvet bag. Unfortunately, I would say eighty (ninety five) percent of the reason anyone likes me is because of words. Whenever someone utters a rare word like terrestrial, unholy, or deuce, everyone around is all like, “Oh hey I remember that word. Man that word was great back in the day and hearing it today makes me slightly less unhappy.”