You’ve heard of the term “waiting with bated breath”, right? Some idiots no doubt spell it like, “weighting wiv baytid breathe” or some such. Others might not have even heard of it, such as people who were never alive when it was around (King Henry VIII springs to mind). Now we got thinking on this merry Friday – it’s all very well waiting with bated breath (or breathing batedly), but what happens if you, like, bait breath? We guess you kind of can, by eating loads of raw garlic and meeting up with someone you hate and breathing all over them. That’s baiting breath with grossness, a sociopath’s dream as people will flee from you post haste.
The two baiteds (this is to state, bated and baited) have an extensive taxonomy dating back to the era of the dinosaurs, when the old gargantuan lizard monsters used to hang out in Dino School waiting for their grades. Poor old T. Rex obtained a sub-par grade for his essay, “The Sexist Representation of Dinosaurs Within The Works Of Steven Spielberg”. Then Miss. Triceratops did get a great grade for her polemic about crop rotations, but as she ran about with joy her massive horns collided with the Head Master’s car and shredded it to bits! Oh, how the velociraptors chortled. Millions of years later many people wait with bated breath for things worthy of it. Sports events, the lottery results, or wondering when the cheese in the fridge will go mouldy. This sort of stuff. It’s an ancient tradition which makes us at Professional Moron feel insipid and grotesque.
Baiting breath is clearly a modern phenomenon. With the abundance of food stuffs available, one could become quite the Baited Breath master. You could become a hired assassin, required to empty rooms just by entering and breathing everywhere, a foul concoction of garlic, curry, eggs, cheese, and Bovril spewing out into everyone’s breathing space. In turn, folks would be waiting with bated breath for the attacks from those with baited breath. Now that, if we dare state so ourselves, is pretty ironic.