word of the day - internecine
WORD OF THE DAY:
Internecine: Characterized by bloodshed or carnage
Use internecine in a sentence:
There were things in there he wasn’t sure he was ready for her to see—all those photos of girls in headbands and leg warmers, the Motley Crue tee shirt, the Def Lepard tee shirt, the golden earring, prom photos in full mullet and baby blue polyester tuxedo, that ’82 Trans-Am with the roach clip hanging from the rearview mirror—there were also the more mundane photos of summer vacations to the Wisconsin Dells, road trips Sioux Falls, Iowa, ski trips to Afton Alps, Minnesota, stories she’d heard a thousand times, he could almost anticipate her response (boring!)--she was a teenager now so there was nothing about him anymore she could possibly find the least bit interesting—but there were also those stills from that old TV show, just a few at first, sprinkled in here and there, then occurring with increasing frequency, Bruce Banner in a lab coat, Bruce Banner alone on a quiet country road, Bruce Banner on the run, his eyes ablaze, the great green Hulk bursting out of Banner’s clothes, juxtaposed with crude crayon drawings of rope coils and cat-o-nine tails, a real lock of hair, nail clippings, petals of dead flowers , the pages stained with tears, yes, he may just surprise her yet, he thought, he had to show somebody, he’d held it in for so long, she was his daughter, his flesh and blood, she of all people should understand, as, with a deep breath, and an air of finality, of come-what-may, he at last opened the scrapbook, revealing his internecine teenage obsession with actor Bill Bixby.
Internecine: Characterized by bloodshed or carnage
Use internecine in a sentence:
There were things in there he wasn’t sure he was ready for her to see—all those photos of girls in headbands and leg warmers, the Motley Crue tee shirt, the Def Lepard tee shirt, the golden earring, prom photos in full mullet and baby blue polyester tuxedo, that ’82 Trans-Am with the roach clip hanging from the rearview mirror—there were also the more mundane photos of summer vacations to the Wisconsin Dells, road trips Sioux Falls, Iowa, ski trips to Afton Alps, Minnesota, stories she’d heard a thousand times, he could almost anticipate her response (boring!)--she was a teenager now so there was nothing about him anymore she could possibly find the least bit interesting—but there were also those stills from that old TV show, just a few at first, sprinkled in here and there, then occurring with increasing frequency, Bruce Banner in a lab coat, Bruce Banner alone on a quiet country road, Bruce Banner on the run, his eyes ablaze, the great green Hulk bursting out of Banner’s clothes, juxtaposed with crude crayon drawings of rope coils and cat-o-nine tails, a real lock of hair, nail clippings, petals of dead flowers , the pages stained with tears, yes, he may just surprise her yet, he thought, he had to show somebody, he’d held it in for so long, she was his daughter, his flesh and blood, she of all people should understand, as, with a deep breath, and an air of finality, of come-what-may, he at last opened the scrapbook, revealing his internecine teenage obsession with actor Bill Bixby.
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