I'm home from work today, waiting for a guy to come measure the kitchen floor. Since that should take...what, ten minutes?...I brought about 12 hours of work home with me last night. For good measure, I made myself a to-do list of about eight hours of neglected house and garden chores. Clearly I've set myself up for failure.
That's not my reason for taking a blog break, though. Actually, I'm not working because I can't stand it anymore. I'm trying to edit some material written by a 50 year old with more degrees that I have who always puts a comma before "and" regardless of the rest of the sentence.
Joe, and I went to the store.
We bought milk, and eggs.
That's just one of his grammatical issues, though. He must have slept through third grade English (along with junior high), and I guess he got into college on the strength of his math SAT score. Perhaps a gift of Strunk & White is in order. I'm not usually the grammar police (living in a glass house and all, I don't like to throw stones), but this guy is out of control, and I'm running out of ink in my red pen.
And I'm a wee bit frustrated. So, as I'm editing, I keeping hearing a line from Pulp Fiction in my mind:
English, mother******, do you speak it?
Posted by Nic at May 12, 2005 01:21 PMI hear that line, too, now. And I raise you: It must be one charming mother****ing manuscript, huh?
Posted by: RP at May 18, 2005 04:03 PM