Leonard professes a wish that all of us would put up personal slang dictionaries. His came in handy the first time I met him; I quoted some Leonardonics at him in an effort to prove my readership. So here's mine, by necessity incomplete, but still amusing and edifying.
Leonard and I hang out so much that our slangs bleed into each other. Note that I often use alleged, And by x, I mean y, The original X, and What's your question?, and of course many others infrequently.
Mine own contributions follow:
I say "Birthday." in a cranky childish voice and throw a soft handball or something at Leonard's chest. This is derived from the play "David's Birthday" as described by Mike Daisey in his monologue The Ugly American. I developed this in late 2007 while playing handball badly on my birthday. The word conveys a selfish wish that the world would conform to my caprice.
For variety's sake, I'll call a friend by their first initial and the suffix "dawg," in hip-hop style. I am S-dawg. (For even more variety, substitute "money" for "dawg.") I do this with no trace of a hip-hop accent and in my normal, slightly formal manner of speech. It's wacky!
Poop.
My robot/formal synonym for "d'ya need some help?" I speak more formally than most people most of the time, as other entries will out.
Farting.
My robot/formal synonym for "Hi." Does double duty for "Goodbye." It's like "Aloha" that way. Sometimes I use "Farewell" instead for leave-taking. Variety.
A few years ago, I ran across a romance novel set at "Gunlinghorn Manor," which sounds more British than any real British place ever. Leonard and I now call our kitchen "Gunlinghorn." He'll ask me in a breathy romance-style voice, "Darling, will you come with me to ... Gunlinghorn?"
Sometimes, when you're about to go do something, I'll tell you to "have fun" or "have a good time" even though it's probably neutral or unpleasant. Movies, pooping, credit card orders, what have you.
I had such strong suspicions regarding the procedural legitimacy of the 2000 US Presidential election that for a while I refused to preface "George W. Bush" with the honorific "President". I called him "Bush" or "His Fraudulency" or "His Fraudulency George II". Critics of the election of Rutherford B. Hayes (cf. the dirty Hayes-Tilden compromise, by which agreement Reconstruction ended far too soon) coined the phrase.
2007 Update: Since the 2004 election I now will say "President Bush" but I don't like it.
Leonard and I call the bathroom "Hygienetown." Sample usage: "Do you need Hygienetown or can I take a shower?"
The post-Cold-War equivalent of a fifties hipster's "X-ville, man." Sample usage: "I'm going to lunch. I'll be in BreakRoomistan if you need me."
There was a Hot Wheels ad I saw a lot when I was a kid where the slogan was "Hot Wheels: Leading the way!" In retrospect, I don't find it likely that Hot Wheels led any particular way. But I still say "Leading the way!" after random one- or two-syllable words and phrases.
For variety's sake, I'll call friends by their titles and last names. Sometimes Leonard is Mr. Richardson. I also call people by their titles and last names when I've just met them, they're much older than I, or I respect them a lot. If I don't know their names at all I'll call them sir or ma'am. I think of this second usage as courtesy, so please don't take it the wrong way.
Synonym for "neat" or "acknowledged". Come to think of it, either of those is probably less annoying than "Neat-o burrito," as long as I don't actually say "Acknowledged" as though I'm Captain Picard from Star Trek: The Next Generation. I should switch.
2008 Update: I don't think I've said this in years.
I like asking Leonard to pretend that he is a monkey because it is cute when he says "Ook ook." Not with a monkey accent or posture or anything, just "ook ook." It is cute.
I went to Tokay High School, in Lodi, California. My excellent English teachers were very into standard-setting, i.e., showing the students sample papers to let us know the criteria for an A, a B, &c. In this context, I read a hilariously bad report on the life of Al Capone: "The Good, the Bad, and Scarface." The author switched "their" with "there" and "none" with "known", and made factual errors (e.g., "When the Crash came in 1925 he was the first to open soup kitchens."), and dissed the Untouchables ("The infamous Untouchables led by Elliot Ness were merrily, a joke.").
Various other passages reveal the author's pro-Capone, pro-gangster bias...
During this time Al was maybe the most ruthless man on the face of the earth., but he was also a saint. Panhandlers, drifters, and especially ex-cons, anybody who was down on their luck want to Capone. He didn't expect anything in return. Some thought of him as a Robin Hood.
...and apparent blind spots.
Al also looked at Torrio as a role model wealthy, successful, and respected all the things his father was not. Torrio knew how to separate family and business. His wife described him as "the best and dearest of husbands."(Bergreen P. 39) Torrio was a pimp, gambler, and racketeer who loved his wife an knew when to draw the line. He was not a violent man by nature considering his profession.
And so of course now I insert any person's name in the place of Torrio's. "Seth David Schoen was a pimp, gambler, and racketeer who loved his wife and knew when to draw the line." Most people who get to hear this have looked through "The Good, the Bad, and Scarface" with me. It's the "Eye of Argon" of high school essays.
From sitcoms I've never seen. Used when X does something wacky! or awful or otherwise commentworthy. Sometimes morbid, e.g., "Looks like at least a quarter of all death row inmates were wrongly convicted. That's Our Criminal Justice System!" May be followed by Muppet Fozzie Bear's signature that-was-a-punchline chant, "Wokka-wokka-wokka!"
Most non-Indians find it difficult to pronounce and spell my name correctly. Thus, when I was younger, I wished to change my name, upon turning 18 or 21 or whatever, to something easy to pronounce and spell, yet still unique. For some reason "Vikki Doardo," pronounced like "Vicky Doe-ARE-doe," lodged in my brain as the logical choice. Perhaps I watched one too many episodes of "Small Wonder."
These days I don't feel like changing my name, but in situations where my name is a one-time password (e.g., ordering pizza), I still identify myself as Vicky. If someone who knows I'm lying asks why, sometimes I reference Phil Hartman as the deadpan Alcatraz tour guide, in So I Married an Axe Murderer (1993): "My name is John Johnson, but everybody calls me Vicki." No, I've never seen all of So I Married an Axe Murderer (1993).
When I act wackily, and other people don't realize I'm being silly, or maybe even when they do, or when I see sitcom-style wackiness ensuing before mine eyes, I say "It's wacky!" or some such in a sitcom-advertising-announcer voice. I may accompany this with waving hands, a cross between "Wax on, wax off" from Karate Kid and "I'm a mime trapped behind this window."
My high school economics and government teacher told us the following anecdote: President Richard Nixon presented his budget proposal. A journalist asked, "Sir, isn't your budget rather...Keynesian?" Nixon smiled and said, "We are all Keynesians now."
First of all, Nixon is fascinating. Second, his phrasing presents a useful schema for conveying that some cultural force has quietly insinuated itself into the everyday life of the populace, or at least of my cohort. Example: "We are all broadbandians now."
I enjoy Wodehouse's light Edwardian romps, especially the Jeeves & Wooster stories. His genteeler characters will use ", what?" as a suffix to a statement, turning it into a question. Example: "I say, Topper really is a sporting old chap, what?" I use it in the same manner, except that most of my "x, what?" questions are rhetorical only. Variant: "X, what, old bean?" Similar, smaller Britishisms in my speech include "and whatnot" and "and the like."
If asked for some bit of information, or even if not, I may offer a small lecture, e.g., a paragraph on the history of the fax machine, or the differences between two webmagazines. If I do this, I'll end with "This has been Sumana's History Minute" or "Thanks for listening to Sumana's Web Criticism Minute" or suchlike. I'll say that if you give a slightly uncalled-for mini-lecture, substituting your name in there. "X's Y Minute" adapts Leonard's X Theatre & X Council bits.
Probably my most offensive bit of slang. I am nonwhite, and partly because Hindu Indians brought me up, I'm unfamiliar with some US and Christian artifacts and customs. When I learn about such a thing in the presence of a white or Christian person, I may ask them to explain it to me, joking (mostly), "You should know this, you're white." Examples: Jell-O salad, the Biblical story of Joseph and the coat of many colors.
In self-mocking, I'm-American moments, I'll say, "I should know this, I'm white."