Refers to either of two similarly-unhealthful "wound up" conditions:
(1) The fiercely-strong "internal burning" and obsessive determination that Indiana Jones had felt ever since he was a boy to recover the Cross of Coronado and donate it to Marcus
Brody's museum for display in their collection of Spanish antiquities.
(2) Frustration/tedium-provoked high blood pressure, heart-palpitations, etc. suffered by a feverishly-aggravated returnable-containers collector who is repeatedly compelled to laboriously shake/
rinse out slimy globs of rotted lime from each and every discarded
Corona Light bottle that he comes across.
Why can't beer-imbibers just add lemon juice to their bottled drinks 'stedda stuffin' in huge chunks of whole
limes?! I mean, don't get me wrong, now --- I **do indeed** deeply appreciate it when generous folks around town give me their huge "after da party" piles of
empties to cash in, but still... I am soooooo totally gonna get a major case of coronary distress (not to mention
carpel tunnel syndrome if I
hafta keep abusin' my poor weak wrists) from my agonized
shakin' out of all da 0%!$&#!@ fruit-blobs from every single
bleepin' one of all these narrow-necked bottles here, not to mention havin' to also slosh-rinse each bottle afterwards in my water-filled 5-gallon plastic bucket here, to remove da stinky-moldy pulp-residues! (Sorry, but I respect the hard-workin’ redemption-center staff far too much to give them filthy-messy bottles, thank you very much!) And THEN of course, I’m also gonna hafta CLEAN UP ALL DA SLOPPY ROTTEN CITRUS-CLUMPS outta my door-yard after I get done processing my returnables, so that visitors don't slip on them or track in
yuckies onto my nice clean carpet!
