Tuesday, September 14th, 2010

I am Not the Grammar Police…and yet…

I was in Delaware this weekend. (Went fishing…yay!)

On the drive there, I saw two signs on the road which made me both laugh and cringe. I find the first one truly sad, because someone paid to have it painted. I have to wonder if the painter knew he was creating a sign with incorrect grammar and just did as he was asked. (I can see the contract now, “Grammar Check – $25 Extra”) The business owner might have (not even tempting to write, “might of,” there) looked at the extra cost and scoffed, “How hard is it to get a sign right?”

Harder than you might think. Here’s the sign:

You Should Of Stopped (to Buy Crabs)

I should have stopped to correct him.

The second sign is probably a product of English as a Second Language (ESL), so I probably shouldn’t be too hard on the writer. Still, I find myself continuing to chuckle at:

Come & Tray ARE New Mango Mojitos

Frankly, I’m not going to “tray are” anything. How about you?

Seen any good signs lately?

Monday, September 13th, 2010

Writer Cartoon on Suffering

Every once in a while I come across a writing cartoon which tickles my funny bone. I was flipping through my file today and I thought I’d share:

Cartoon - Writer Suffering

I wish I’d written down where this cartoon came from. If you recognize it, please drop me a line to let me know.

For a modern perspective on writing in cartoons, check out Debbi Ridpath Ohi’s cartoons. I like her older drawings better than her newer ones…but the humor is still there.

Friday, May 7th, 2010

Friday Funny

A writer died and was given the option of going to heaven or hell.

She decided to check out each place first. As the writer descended into the fiery pits, she saw row upon row of writers chained to their desks in a steaming sweatshop. As they worked, they were repeatedly whipped with thorny lashes.

“Oh my,” said the writer. “Let me see heaven now.”

A few moments later, as she ascended into heaven, she saw rows of writers, chained to their desks in a steaming sweatshop. As they worked, they, too, were whipped with thorny lashes.

“Wait a minute,” said the writer. “This is just as bad as hell!”

“Oh no, it’s not,” replied an unseen voice. “Here, your work gets published.”