Tuesday, 26 August 2014

Grammar Woman, Expressions and Expressways, and Interfering Celibates

If I could, I do believe I would have that odious phrase that is suffixed to declarative observations and opinions, 'just sayin'', banned.  I would ban it.  I would.  I would have it vaporised if I could.  I detest it to the point of becoming combative.  Every time I read a comment suffixed 'just sayin'', I roar like Godzilla emerging from the Sea of Japan (if that's from whence the ruinous reptile hailed), and I stomp, and I want to kick things to buggery.  It's a pathetic, passive aggressive attempt to emphasise or qualify an argument, and it does not work.  I have seen this phrase more that I would like, lately, and find myself shouting at my computer screen, 'I know you're 'just saying', because you JUST fucking SAID it!!!!!'  And I've been seeing it on a Facebook site of which I am an admin; some disgruntled members have been posting on threads and finishing the comment with this infuriating, cat-kicker of a phrase.  Oh, it shits me so.

Hey, do you remember how Billy Batson was Captain Marvel, and Diana Prince was Wonder Woman?  Well, your blogger might have to become a mysterious crime fighter by night in her town.  Oh, I'm not going to do something about the ferals that wander at night, it's those misplaced and missing apostrophes I've been noticing on signs around town.  They are rousing my ire in much the same manner as 'just sayin''.  I drove my father to and home from a medical appointment in Newcastle today, and as we came back to town, I noticed a local motor dealership advertising 'Corolla's'.  What the mispunctuated fuck are they on about?  Or are these lucky Corollas in possession of something?  The apostrophe indicates they are indeed the lucky owners of something, but the sign does not exactly explain what.  I growled and bitched and beefed (I know I might be missing commas there, but it's for dramatic reading effect, and NOT ignorance; there is a difference) through town about it, until I went past a place that sells fresh produce, which according to the sign, had 'Cauli's'.  Not 'Caulis', but 'Cauli's'.  Not only did it have 'cauli's', it had my scorn and derision.  So,in the dead of night, heavily disguised, I am going to be armed with a cloth and chalk, or permanent marker and paint, to remedy these grammatical crimes.  How does Grammar Woman sound?

Finally got my father home, having parked at the wrong building in Newcastle.  'Is this it?' I asked my father, who has had specialist appoints with this doctor previously.  'Don't ask me,' was the reply.  'How do we get there?'  I asked.  He gave me directions, and it soon became apparent from which parent I have inherited by abysmal navigational skills.  It staggers me that my father once negotiated a hundred mile course on horseback in one day, for which he won prizes and earned a place in the Long Reach Stockman's Hall of Fame, yet cannot tell me which building on a block he went to a few months ago.  Also, when I drove onto the road leading away from the hospital, do you think I could see any signs pointing out the best way to find the new Hunter Expressway?  No.  My father said that with all the money built on the expressway, surely a few bucks could have been allocated to signage.  Whoever is the Minister for Roads, can you get onto this?  It was only when I got to Hexham it occurred to me I might have just missed the expressway.  Eventually found it, just outside Greta, so drove home along it for all of five minutes.  Well, I just had to say I travelled home along it, didn't I?

My woes did not stop there.  I received a letter from my son's school advising he has forgotten on three occasions to pack his gear for PE, which is an OH&S issue with the school.  Oh, don't get me wrong; I scolded my errant son and I agree with the school entirely.  No, my problem was the sentence that advised should he miss PE, he would be set work by the Teacher.  I was invited to discuss any problems or questions I might have.  Well, I just might have to get on the blower and say, 'Yes, I have a mighty problem.  Why was the word 'teacher' capitalised when it should not have been?  It was not a proper noun in that context.'  Maybe this letter was drafted by a gung-ho sports teacher who didn't listen in English?  Hmmmm.

Finally, this goes out to the priest who contributed to the newsletter of the Catholic school in Victoria, with an article about keeping your marriage safe.  One of your rules was 'No Porn'.  You include erotic fiction in this.  Now, if you're referring to the execrable 'Fifty Shades of Grey'; Father, I have your back because that is the shittiest book ever written, and I don't want people thinking it constitutes good literature.   But you state porn is a 'cancer ruining sex lives of countless married couples... Real life can never measure up...'.  Um, something's bothering me about this advice.  Not sure if it's because some couples don't mind using a bit of porn in the boudoir so What's-The-Problem, or something else.  Oh, I think I know what's niggling me.  Dude, you're not married and you're celibate. 

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