The Newsletter Is Bad News

Here at the Home for the Halt and the Lame we get a monthly newsletter. It is driving me nuts. See, as a former journalist I know something about spelling and shit. This newsletter is trying to dumb me down. It reports, for instance, that "the book mobil" will be here soon. It offers "congradulations" to the bingo contest winner.

Do you know what this is: '? That's one of those things alerting you that an "s" is coming up at the end of a word. The newsletter advises us that "...X say's she loves her home here..." and that "What we love most about X is how she alway's goes out of her way..."

Boy howdy. That kind of stuff hack's me off. I get really cros's.

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Lately I have stumbled across some writing that deserves your attention because it is so visual, visceral, vital or otherwise mind-bending.

Word Shadows writes: "The considerate yardworker digs even the most ordinary holes after nightfall, so that on those occasions when he isn't burying a body his neighbors will have something to talk about."

Ozguru provides:
"Don't lose your head
To gain a minute.
You need your head,
Your brains are in it." --Burma Shave.

My buddy Shane, reporting the worried words of a friend of his who is in Africa: "I wouldn't want to end up in some brief encounter situation Congolese jail style with me desperately flicking through my phrase book lookin' for 'Please no, prettier men will be along soon.'"

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So this guy and his wife are working in the garden, and the guy says, "Geez, your ass has gotten really big. I bet it's bigger than the barbecue." He measures and says, "Yep, your ass is two inches wider than the Weber."

That night, feeling frisky, the gardener tries to jump his wife. She says, "No way am I firing up this big ass barbecue to heat a little weeny like that."

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How smart you? Go to IQ Test to find out.

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My favorite word today is insanity. Vb., fruitless. Def.: Looking for the remote in all the places you have already looked.