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"So, when will I be seeing you?" I asked.
"Let me get my shit together first."
"You mean your shit is scattered?"
"It hit the fan."
"My goodness! It must be splattered all over!"
"Yes, and the fan was on high speed, too."
"That must really stink."
"Uh-huh."
He isn't a reader - doesn't like to read. I hadn't decided whether or not that was a bad sign. Now I don't have to.
Is it still backstabbing if, instead of whispering something terrible about you behind your back, the person says it right in front of you - in public, in a very loud voice?
The sense of betrayal is just as acute.
American spelling is supposed to have cut out all the redundancies found in British spelling. So why does fulfil, skilful and instalment all contain double 'l's where the British spelling only requires one?
It is not so much that the grass is greener, as that it's a different shade of green. Nevertheless, this particular shade is starting to make me wonder whether I致e just made a colossal mistake.
All I ask from life is that I be slightly less miserable than the people who hate me. I call that winning.
—Scott Adams, creator of the Dilbert comic strip
Me: "Hope springs eternal in the human breast."
Friend: "Which breast?"
Me: "I suppose the left one, since that's where the heart is located."
Friend: "Not enough space."
Me: "You have that much hope?"
Friend: "Yes, I rent a warehouse and outsource storage."
When you wait eagerly for lunch hour because the stroke of one o'clock signals freedom, it gives new meaning to the phrase, "There has to be more to life than this".
This is a blog about writing, language, books, and my own experiences as a former journalist turned freelance writer & part-time linguistics student.