Say What You Really Mean

I hate the phrase 'Have a good one.' Passionately. It's so absolutely meaningless it cuts. I mean, have a good what? Day? Night? Life? And it's not like it could even be claimed to be a condensed version of some traditional farewell, 'cause you never say 'Have a good one day,' which would naturally shorten to 'have a good one.' It's just a lifeless, non-committal phrase; one more step in the devolving of language. Someday we'll all speak some banal language like Esperanto, devoid of all colour, all grammatical complexity, all nonsensical sentence structure; all in an effort to bring the world closer together. Well forget it. I dont' want a reduced, streamlined language. Give it to us raw and wriggling. With a dash of salt to enhance the flavour. And so, to prevent this ignominous fate, my new life goal is to become a linguist and move to Australia to record dying aboriginal languages for posterity. And learn to speak with wallabies. And race kangaroos through the outback. And then I'm moving to Tahiti.

Have a good three.