Wet is the new dry.
Bogs are the new Xtra Tuffs.
Light is the new dark, which makes sleepy time the new playtime as far as my kids are concerned.
Rain is the new sun.
Rain is also the new snow.
Working really hard on a million different projects is the new summer vacation.
Solstice is the new equinox.
#whatever is the new “whatever.”
You can still also use “spoiler alert: whatever.” But #whatever is bound to get laughs until Twitter swims the shark.
Speaking of which… “swimming the shark” is the new “jumping the shark” (unless, of course, Michael Phelps winds up getting eaten when he races a Great White this coming July 23 as the grand finale of “Shark Week” on the Discovery Channel).
Emojis are the new hieroglyphics. That’s right — 5,000 years after the dawn of Ancient Egypt and we’re back to pictographs.
Urban dictionary is the new Merriam-Webster’s.
Beets are the new Brussels sprouts, which, in and of themselves, are the new kale.
Underemployed is the new employed.
Unemployed is the new underemployed.
In modern little kid parlance, “owie” is the new “boo-boo.”
While we’re on the subject, “bum-bum” is the new “tushy.”
However, “pee-pee” is still “pee-pee” and “poo-poo” is still “poo-poo.” You don’t mess with the classics.
Squeezable single serving pouches of applesauce are the new Go-Gurt. Finally, we can enjoy applesauce on the run.
Retro is the new futuristic.
Pirate Booty is the new Cheez Doodle. And while we’re at it, La Croix sparkling water is a soda addict’s methadone.
Soft is the new hard, with regard to tacos.
Hard is the new soft, with regard to pretzels.
Government elections are the new Academy Awards.
The Academy Awards are the new Grammy Awards.
The Grammy Awards are the new… wait, do they even hold those anymore?
Woof is the new meh.
Axe Body Spray is the new Drakkar Noir.
Composting is the new recycling.
Humans are the new dinosaurs.
Country is the new western.
Fidget spinners are the new Shopkins.
Screaming children are the new alarm clock, at least in my house, at least until both my kids can keep track of their own fidget spinners and stop stealing each other’s when they wake up at 5 a.m. Why can’t they play with all those Shopkins they made me buy last year?
Wet is the new dry. What? I used that one already? Yeah, well, it’s been especially wet this past month.
40 is the new 30, and 30 is the new 20, but 20 is still one year below the legal drinking age. Who’s laughing now? Me, because I’ve had a few. Legally.
Açaí is the new cranberry.
Goji is the new açaí. What can I say? Things move fast in the world of anti-oxidant juice blends.
Complicated is the new simple.
Debt-ridden is the new financially solvent.
Texting is the new smoking.
Casual comparisons to historical dictators is the new productive political discourse — on both sides of the aisle.
Protests are the new brunch.
Parenthood is the new childhood (but with no time outs).
A muddy, gravel-strewn construction zone is my new front lawn — no mowing for me this summer!
Almond butter is the new peanut butter. Or, at least it’s going to be unless U.S. peanut producers step up their game. Sure, we could always import, but do we really want to become reliant on foreign nut butter?
Chupacabra is the new sasquatch. Trust me on this.
Vomitous is the new McDonald’s crabmeat sandwich. Trust me on this, too.
Zombies are the new vampires.
Climate change deniers are the new flat-earth theorists. What’s next? Disavowal of the heliocentric model of our solar system?
New New York is the new New York in Philip K. Dick’s classic sci-fi novel “Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep?”; in “Blade Runner,” the movie version, it’s Los Angeles. Weird.
Noise is the new silence.
Russian hacking is the new “Deflategate,” now that Congress has met all its favorite sports stars under the guise of convening special hearings.
Removing friends from social networking sites is the new f-you.
Tightie whities are the new chastity belt.
Short, nerdy and rich is the new tall, dark and handsome.
“Hamilton” is the new “Frozen.”
Aioli is the new mayo.
A long list of non sequiturs following a gimmicky structure way beyond its novelty is the new well-crafted, pointed personal essay.
Donnie Wahlberg, Jordan Knight, Joey McIntyre, Jonathan Knight and Danny Wood are the New Kids on the Block—and they’re still touring, even though the youngest member is 45!
Fifteen-minute chunks is the new way I attack my whole unending, constantly wakeful, underemployed, over-stressed, debt-ridden, gravel-strewn, rainy, aioli-slathered, chupacabra-infested life. And you know what? It’s working for me.
Earnest is the new ironic.
Mean is the new nice.
Metaphor is the new simile.
Facebooking is the new scrapbooking. The hot glue gun market must be taking a serious beating.
Government shutdowns are the new second honeymoon. At least that’s how I’m looking at the prospect of having my wife around starting July 1.
Optimism is the new pessimism. It has to be if, in the words of the classic folk anthem, we shall overcome someday.
• Geoff Kirsch is an award-winning Juneau-based writer and humorist. “Slack Tide” appears every second and fourth Sunday.
