Unicorny

Then the frigging spray-and-pray began all over again and I caught another fragment—this one a splinter of wood that stuck me in the forehead giving me a very Unicorny look.

Would you describe yourself as unicorny? I have: A. One horn in the middle of my head. B. No horns. True or false: I am a unicorn.

“Light pink or dark pink hair?” Delia was still fixated on this point. / “Light. It was more white than pink, but sometimes, if light caught it the right way, you could make out the second color.” / “Kind of unicorny?” / Sometimes Delia and I were on the exact same page as well. / “Yeah,” I said, a smile creeping over my lips. “Kind of unicorny.”

Before I draw her unicorny features, she kind of looks like a dinosaur.

I shake my mane, trying to free myself of these base thoughts. And remember that I am the Unicorn. I. Will. Focus. I wait patiently to order my slice. Do not even stamp my hoof. Not once. I cast my unicorny eye around the pizza parlor to locate my adversaries.

A potty-mouthed lover of all things typographic and unicorny, she creates work that is lovely, irreverent, and shiny.

The idea is that given a context, ‘unicorn’ (‘groundhog’, etc.) is associated with a similarity metric that determines a mapping from each world w to a set of things that county as unicorns (groundhogs, etc.) at w relative to that context. This allows for variation in what makes something sufficiently unicorny (groundhoggy, etc.) for the purposes at hand.

Get a big old glass, preferably a clear one so you can see the unicorny colors.