No, I'm firmly convinced that actor bus must mean something. We should just toss it around until it has a meaning, that's my theory.

it doesn't take an octopus
to catch a man who mocked a wuss
a wuss is such a scardy-cat,
a one-armed man could master that.

so there. :p

@tw

:D :) :p ;)

Blunderbuss?

I suppose -ush words are pretty close. Push, bush, tush, ambush, woosh.

About ten years ago I wrote a poem on my experiences with just such a creature. It was an absolutely true story and Kelly was my Skipper. I had the dvil of a time finding a word bur here in Australia we have a word for a weakling or nerd, please read on.

KELLY AND THE OCTOPUS [1999]
Raymond J Warren

Kelly was a cray-boat skip, of dubious renown,
He ran a boat from Geraldton, a quaint Westralian town.
Kelly’d take a risk or two, while sailing the sea,
And deckies all avoided him ‘cept one and that was me.

Now Kelly had a rival, who liked crayfish more than him,
The rival would steal Kelly’s crays, at the slightest whim.
Though Kelly was a powerhouse and never was a Wooss,
His rival had eight strong arms and was an Octopus.

One day down at the Flat Rocks, out there in the bay
I spied a slimy stowaway, in a pot among the cray.
Two beady eyes stared at me and gave me quite a shock,
While Kelly looked on angrily and then he did his block.

The Octopus was well entrenched and hard to pull away,
A grimace crossed the Kelly face; nobody steals his Cray.
Kelly moved in for the kill and reached in with his hand,
The Octopus came easily, with a move I think was planned.

It shot out of that pot so fast, beyond the Kelly control,
And wrapped itself around his head, like some gigantic mole.
And then began the strangest dance that one could ever see,
Kelly with his Octopus, a’prance in front of me

It was not a Sailors Hornpipe, nor a Scottish Reel,
Kelly waltzed or rhumba’d while I clung to the wheel.
The Octopus had Kelly, in its eight-arm strong embrace,
While Kelly, tried to peel it off his sorely wrapped up face.

With beady eyes a blazing; the beast would not let go,
And Kelly’s frantic tugging soon began to slow.
Every time he stretched the thing, his face was pulled awry
I knelt down upon the deck and laughed until I cried.

Misty eyed I watched them, in that dance around the deck,
Till finally the Octopus; let go of Kelly’s neck.
It slithered down his arm and dashed for scuppers wide,
Then seemed to bow graciously, as it slipped over the side.

Kelly was exhausted, his brow was wringing wet,
He slumped down on a craypot, his match finally met.
The Octopus and Kelly had danced till both were done,
With victory to the Octopus, the beast on points had won.
© Raymond J Warren 2006 All rights reserved