Nephew Josh, circa 1977
Josh (sings): Take it to the lippet, take it to the lippet, take it to the lippet one more time.
Becky: Limit.
Josh: What?
Becky: Take it to the limit one more time.
Josh: Lippet.
Becky: Okay. What’s a lippet?
Josh (counters): What’s a limit?
Becky: It’s the farthest point of something.
Josh: . . .
Becky: Like when you drive. You can’t go over the speed limit. You can’t drive faster than sixty miles an hour.
Josh: I don’t drive.
Becky: You’ve got a point.
Josh: Take it to the lippet, take it to the lippet, take it to the lippet one more time.
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Thank you–I saw that! Now I’m trying to think of to whom I can pay it forward. =)
Haha! That reminds me of a time when I was driving in the car and the song “Give a little bit of your love to me”, by Supertramp, was playing. I was singing along to it when suddenly Molly, who was about 6 then, burst into tears. When I asked her what was wrong she said she hated the song and thought it was cruel! Took a few minutes to discover she thought the lyrics were, “Kill a little bear…”!
Oh, poor Molly. No doubt she wouldn’t appreciate how I’m laughing right now. Misheard lyrics always crack me up (I’ve misheard many in my time, too). Now I will probably sing “kill a little bear” whenever I hear the song.
How to spot a speed lippet from far away?
If only my mother asked that of the state trooper one pouring rainy day on I-81. You see, my mother has been in them city folk for so long, that the so-called concept of “fast lane” is the left lane of a traffic jam. In them sticks of I-81, the “fast lane” is the left of two lanes that cars “pass” via the right lane. Simple! She didn’t follow that concept. And the state trooper, in the pouring rain, gave her a soaking ticket for impeding traffic flow, going 80 when the speed lippet was 65, driving on the left “fast lane” so that inconvenienced cars around her were forced to “pass” her on the right lane. (Did I mention the unsafe driving conditions?) Being a woman of course, the ticket was reduced to nothing by the judge, to no pleasure of the state trooper who got soaked in the line of duty.
I think that’s the lippet of my abilities :p.
Being a woman never got me out of tickets. I sped, therefore I paid. At least in those days, I only paid. Now I’d have to do a defensive driving class, and that’s beyond the lippet of torment.
I italicize woman because my Dad and my Brother never got away with it, LOL. (I never had a speeding ticket, but of course I probably jinxed myself now.) I don’t recall if she had to do the defensive driving class.
Maybe he was singing ” lipid,” which would make much more sense.
I’m pretty sure it’s lippet, because I believe the lippet is a cousin to the alot, and their predator is the nauga.