If I send you a text that says zombies are breaking into my house, panic. What I want is for you to show up with guns and other weapons to help me fight off the zombies. What I don’t want is for you to send back a text chastising me for using the wrong form of “there.”
It is my firm belief all grammar rules are suspended in the wake of a natural disaster, such as zombies. Rest assured, I am well aware of the difference between their, there and they’re, but if I am hiding in a closet typing out a message about my imminent death, I don’t freakin’ care about syntax
My dear Grammar Nazi friends, I’m letting know this, now, ahead of said zombie outbreak. So, consider yourself fairly warned that if the above scenario should actually happen, and you send me such a text, I will drag my zombiefied corpse to your house and eat your brains slowly.
Sorry, grammar is on my mind, because I saw an advertisement for a service that scans your social media posts for grammatical errors and fixes them so you won’t suffer the embarrassment of posting an error-ridden post.
This service is scanning for the wrong thing. If you’ve spent any time on social media you know that content is what makes people look like asses, not whether they used an oxford comma or not. The service should scan for general stupidity in posts…oh wait, there would be no posts than.
It’s not your lack of an apostrophe that leads me to believe you’re an idiot. It’s the fact you posted some damn urban legend chain post that Snopes debunked five years ago or perhaps it was that boudoir picture of you. Seriously, that picture really should never have seen the light of day. Not to mention your political views, so please stick with pictures of your cat.
Look all you grammar obsessed folks, it isn’t that the rest of us didn’t see that Janey used the wrong form of there, we did or, at least, I did. We just don’t care. Really, we don’t. While you were gnashing your teeth over that, I was admiring the photo of “there” new car.
I can’t help if you have nothing better to do than spend 54 minutes proof reading your post about your cat before sending it out for the world to see. You want the truth? I have the attention span of a ferret on crack; once I got the gist of your post, I skipped the rest of it. It could have contained the directions to Area 51 for all I know. See, all your hard work for nothing.
Isn’t the point of social media is that it’s supposed to be carefree? After all, I am not posting my dissertation or my Nobel prize acceptance speech, usually I post something lame like the flavor of the day at the ice cream shop, so cut me some slack.
Also, I’d like to point out that while the grammar cops took copious notes in English class, it appears they fell asleep in Manners 101. Here let me sum it up-it is never right to correct the grieving widow’s dangling participle. It doesn’t make you look clever; it makes you look like an insufferable ass. This goes for any life-altering event such as deaths, births, winning the lottery, and finding out there is a shoe sale at Macy’s.
Jennifer Flaten lives where the local delicacy is fried cheese, Wisconsin. She writes about family life, its amusing or not so amusing moments. "At least it's not another article on global warming," she says. Jennifer bakes a mean banana bread and admits an unusual attraction to balloon animals and cup cakes. Busy preparing for the zombie apocalypse, she stills finds time to write "As I See It," her witty, too often true column. "My urge to write," says Jennifer, "is driven by my love of cupcakes, with sprinkles on top. Who wouldn't write for cupcakes, with sprinkles," she wonders.
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