Without looking up the meaning, try to use braggadocio in a sentence. Winner gets a fur ball my cat just horked up.

"Panamah showed a lot of Braggadocio as she stood her stance and confronted the mighty bear that threatened to eat the fruit from her kamikazed tree."

:)

It's not polite to braggadocio when you get something cool. You might make someone jealous.

Sheesh that's all I could come up with. :cry:

Artio

Braggadocio cons red, as does hubris.

/sigh
I'd do it but I am afraid I'd win the furball and my own cat would be so jealous...

Vaine Braggadocchio getting Guyons
horse is made the scorne
Of knighthood trew, and is of fayre
Belphoebe fowle forlorne.


Faerie Queen
-Edward Spencer

You don't necessarily have to be correct to win the award....

Come on, everyone knows it's from Chaucer....

Whan that aprill with his shours soote
The droghte of march hath perced to the roote
And braggadocio every veyne in swich licour
Of which vertu engendred is the flour;
Whan zephirus eek with his sweete breeth
Inspired hath in every holt and heeth...

/cackle!

/cackle



hey, it's infectious.

what can i say... if you don't know your middle english, you won't know words like guyons, engendred, or.... braggadocio.

/cackle

Furor and his ilk are known braggadocios (http://dictionary.reference.com/search?r=2&q=braggadocio)

I'd definitely say that a braggadocio is an over-con! They go down like a greenie.

And I think Arraxx wins the Fur Ball! Congratulations!

Someone else come up with a word. :)

Noone







[speaking of Middle English /smile]

two furballs (one yellow, one brow) from my cat's if you can tell me what word i replaced with 'braggadocios'.... without looking it up!

/cackle

Replaced where?

Whan that Aprill with his shoures soote
The droghte of March hath perced to the roote,
And bathed every veyne in swich licour
Of which vertu engendred is the flour;
Whan Zephirus eek with his sweete breeth
Inspired hath in every holt and heeth
The tendre croppes, and the yonge sonne
Hath in the Ram his halve cours yronne,
And smale fowles maken melodye,
That slepen al the nyght with open ye
(So priketh hem nature in hir corages),
Thanne longen folk to goon on pilgrimages.

Balderdash!

you looked it up!


either that or you were in an english class with me way back in high school in the 80's...

/cackle

I read Chaucer back then.

I certainly did not remember it.(I cheated, yes)

/hushed whisper

The password is,,, hypercycloid.

Bulbous bouffant...
Braggadocio...
Gazebo?

Okay, so it's hardly a sentence, but it fits perfectly. :P