I don’t usually worry about spelling when I’m writing because I think it’s more important to convey the idea as it forms. At least on a blog.
Later though, because of mild OCD, I feel the nagging urge to review words that I know I probably spelled wrong. At the very least it’s a way of remembering the mistake for future reference.
Sometimes I think I have to get the compulsiveness under control. For instance, my daughter left some little Happy Meal toy at her school yesterday and was afraid she had lost it. I told her I would ask the teacher if they found it first thing in the morning. Hell if it didn’t bother me the rest of the evening to the point where I actually got in my car and went to the all night drive through to pick up one of these damned Happy Meal toys.
I think I posted once about the annual Fourth of July tradition of blowing up the dog poop.
Simple concept; put a bunch of kids together with firecrackers and matches and inevitably, shit gets blown up.
Before the pooper scooper laws it was plentiful too.
So one day Frankie Garafalo (I think that was his name) found a nice large pile in a grass patch behind the rusted out playground. He proceeded to plant the charge in the middle, careful to leave approximately 1/4 of the firecracker exposed.
Problem was that this one had a “fast” fuse. About one in a hundred firecrackers have defective fuses which burn super-fast once lit.
So once Frankie lit this one, his fate was sealed before he even had a chance to make a run for it.
The muted blast we heard was accentuated with an audible wimper as the realization that the large pile of poop was now spackled over the back of his head, rapidly set in.
All the kids stood silent. There was nothing to say that we couldn’t all smell.
I wasn’t privy to the conversation he had with his mother as he walked into his home with a shit hairweave but I can only imagine the difficulty involved in tackling that cleaning job.
In my world, we have 5 international categories – PacRim (Japan, Philippines, Singapore, Australia), China, India, EMEA (Europe, Middle East, Africa), and Latin America.
I think the Canadians are just lumped in with the U.S.
I have noticed a significant decline in my spelling over the past year or so. I blame it on the OT. I don’t feel like there is any point in paying attention to or correcting my spelling, so I don’t.
When I lived in East New York during the crack epidemic
junkies would occasionally sneak into the building to take a crack dump leaving behind their underwear as toilet paper.
That’s just nasty.
“i notice i randomly leave out words. i guess that isnt a bad thing cuz verbose wordy people can be annoying
okay, time for dinner.”
*rob*
Really? I tend to see the short snippet posters as lacking in mental rigidity or discipline, an unfortunate characteristic of this “texting” age. :o(
i blew off my finger tip a few minutes ago. i was putting in a light bulb and it blew up in my hanf
d. i can only type wth one hand now.
I don’t usually worry about spelling when I’m writing because I think it’s more important to convey the idea as it forms. At least on a blog.
Later though, because of mild OCD, I feel the nagging urge to review words that I know I probably spelled wrong. At the very least it’s a way of remembering the mistake for future reference.
Sometimes I think I have to get the compulsiveness under control. For instance, my daughter left some little Happy Meal toy at her school yesterday and was afraid she had lost it. I told her I would ask the teacher if they found it first thing in the morning. Hell if it didn’t bother me the rest of the evening to the point where I actually got in my car and went to the all night drive through to pick up one of these damned Happy Meal toys.
i notice i randomly leave out words. i guess that isnt a bad thing cuz verbose wordy people can be annoying
okay, time for dinner.
*rob*
I think I posted once about the annual Fourth of July tradition of blowing up the dog poop.
Simple concept; put a bunch of kids together with firecrackers and matches and inevitably, shit gets blown up.
Before the pooper scooper laws it was plentiful too.
So one day Frankie Garafalo (I think that was his name) found a nice large pile in a grass patch behind the rusted out playground. He proceeded to plant the charge in the middle, careful to leave approximately 1/4 of the firecracker exposed.
Problem was that this one had a “fast” fuse. About one in a hundred firecrackers have defective fuses which burn super-fast once lit.
So once Frankie lit this one, his fate was sealed before he even had a chance to make a run for it.
The muted blast we heard was accentuated with an audible wimper as the realization that the large pile of poop was now spackled over the back of his head, rapidly set in.
All the kids stood silent. There was nothing to say that we couldn’t all smell.
I wasn’t privy to the conversation he had with his mother as he walked into his home with a shit hairweave but I can only imagine the difficulty involved in tackling that cleaning job.
In my world, we have 5 international categories – PacRim (Japan, Philippines, Singapore, Australia), China, India, EMEA (Europe, Middle East, Africa), and Latin America.
I think the Canadians are just lumped in with the U.S.
I have noticed a significant decline in my spelling over the past year or so. I blame it on the OT. I don’t feel like there is any point in paying attention to or correcting my spelling, so I don’t.
frigid
omg fat fingers and / or retarded
i have to stop typing like a 5 year old when i’ on the ot
When I lived in East New York during the crack epidemic
junkies would occasionally sneak into the building to take a crack dump leaving behind their underwear as toilet paper.
That’s just nasty.