Before I begin this post about daft spelling and grammatical errors, I’d better ‘fess up right away that I am not innocent: reblogging Al’s post a week last Sunday, I took a poke at the spelling of his name – Cvillean instead of civilian – and I spelled it Cvllean, thus proving the rule that she who pokes fun at another’s grammar or spelling will get a slap in the face from her own slup-ip.
I was inspired to write this post by Janie Jones, who told us of her university cafeteria, where they serve Bisquits and gravy.
I was affronted on two fronts: the incorrect spelling, and the realisation that Janie lives in frontier country. The sooner I send her airfare to come over here and visit me, the better: she can have chips and gravy, like cvllised people.
Not five minutes after reading her post, I was overjoyed to learn that one of my favourite writers, Jackie Kay, will be singing copies of ‘Reality, Reality’ at the Didsbury Arts Festival.
Then I picked this up from Facebook:
I scheduled this post yesterday for today – although I wrote it a week ago and forgot about it, fortunately – because I may not get to visit you today. Virgin want to work on something or other which means I may be without broadband all day. Which means no internet. Which means you may wake up on Saturday to a Tilly a little bit off, having gone cold turkey Friday. Or not. Same old same old.
Talking of off, sorry about yesterday’s post. I didn’t mean to gross you out. But you had your revenge in the comments. You made me feel sick.
Same old same old.