Thursday, June 11, 2009

Fun With Twisted Linguistics - Custom comment codes for MySpace, Hi5, Friendster and more
I have Words Gone Wild this week, and I know what to do with the damned blasfomys. And I don't mean sending them back to the cornfield, either. Nope, we're going to write poetry with them; i.e., you are going to write poetry with them. I do know, of course, that I have to go first or you won't do it. So I'm doing it. Damn it. So there. I don't care what style you decide on. It's totally up to you. Just ... write.

Here are the blasfomys with which we will write our poetic masterpieces:

shotty editing
diamond neckless

And here's the stupid damn poem I ended up with.

I sit, head in hands, angsting over
Being thrust into the pit and forced to
Wallow in the prescence of mediocrity,
Having just peeked at the helariously
Shotty editing job hoisted off on me by
The regin jagua who calls herself an editor.
I could shoot her,
And quite ligitametly, for who
Could convict me for harning
The controversible dilettante who,
Five minutes from quitting time and
Having not yet made her quotent,
Blasphemously incorrectly red-lined me,
Leaving me rediculed and reviled?
I could shoot off her head and
Let her wear her diamond, neckless.
Oh, hell, I am apostate,
Her oppisite, becuse I have inheritated
Some firing neurons but little brawn and so
I've no love of being provocked by
Poseur twits who, without excuse, if they could write,
Surely would.
But no! Vock her and the screwy
Format she faulted me for.
Cloaked in gimme-gimme genes,
She genuflects at the altar of
A conspicuously empty brain pan.
Oh, God, now I can admit it to myself...
I am a fucking genious.

The Grammar Witch would also like to say a few words today.

What is up with nationally known physicians who go on TV and discuss the whoop-ing cough rather than the hoop-ing cough? Doc needs a little whoop-ass. And how about talk-show people who yack about some washed up actor re-prizing his role rather than re-preezing it? If you ask me, they all need to get a job. We have this local news anchor, a very annoying person in all respects, who aggravates the pee out of me by talking about sammon-ella when people eat bad food and get sick. She knows how to pronounce sammon, the fish, so I suppose she believes it must follow that the letters s-a-l-m-o-n are always pronounced sammon. Not so, honey!

People who for real and for true should know better continually grate on my nerves by uttering such grammatical oddities as:

"They gave awards to Jack and myself."
"They told my husband and I the car was totaled but we weren't dead."
"They had went right but ended up left of nowhere."

Well. They gave Jack an award. They gave me an award. They for damn sure didn't give myself an award.

They told my husband. They told me. I doubt seriously that they told I anything.

And ... they had went? What?! Make a career change, girlie. Broadcast journalism ain't for you.

And a Happy (and deliriously grammatical) Thursday to you, kids!


G-Man said...

She had crimson locks
The kids laughed at her small feet
She was REDICULED!!!

Sorry Shere, A lame Haiku was the best that I could do..hehehehe

Serena said...

That'll work, Galen. You get an "E" for effort.:)

Skunkfeathers said...

This poem's a shotty piece of editing, with the prescense of ligitametly little beyond helariously pointing out Skank Girl's crotch crickets are oppisite polarity reagarding reversed inference of immideatly jagua jumping in the cricket regin. In the poetic algorithms of Willy Shakespeare, hark, what through yon window breaks? Tis a diamond neckless, harning thine items within a shard's range of the shatterment, marking a controversible quotent for crotch crickets per square snatch, inheritated by Skank Girl.

Provocked, as it were to forsake and forsooth, a lack of genious in Skank Girl was evidenced becuse her crotch crickets rediculed her.

The Ende

Serena said...

LMAO, Skunk. You know, when I leave that office, I think it would be a nice gesture to print out all the poetry and prose devoted to Skank Girl and those pesky Crotch Crickets of hers, have it nicely bound, and present it to her.:)

Mona said...

Reagarding the shotty editing my genious was rediculed beause
It provocked an immediately oppisite helariously imaging of protagonist jagua in his regin. Having inherited diamond neckless ligitmetly ,and mentally provocked into selling immideately he is trying to calculate the controversible quotent of the jewellry

Serena said...

LOL, Mona. Thank you for another very funny offering.:)