Here we are, Tuesday! Lots going on this week. We have a show opening next week, so I have lots of rehearsal this week and next week in preparation for that (it’s a quick show, so rehearsals aren’t too long or painful – we’re actually having a lot of fun, no worries) and I’m doing this and that and the other and reading a lot of books and hanging out with Dumbcat and I have some shopping to do for GIFT PRIZE MAILING and whoo! I’m like a busy bee. Bzz, bzz, bzz.
Summer seems to be here, too. It’s all hot and sticky and humid-y and my hair’s all sticking up like a looney already. I know summer supposedly doesn’t happen until late June but that’s lies. In my world it starts at the beginning of June, when things start to get icky. I’d take two springs instead of a summer any day.
So today, let’s talk about one of my favorite things in the world: typos.
Well, no. They’re not my FAVORITE things in the world. But when they’re egregiously awful, I get a total and complete kick out of them. So today, so you can have some enjoyment out of other people’s misfortune, let’s look at some of the worst typos I found on the world wide interwebs today. PLEASE TO USE A DICTIONARY. Thanks.
Huh. Quite a legacy, Mr. Johnson. QUITE a legacy.
It’s graduation time! Hey, students of the University of Texas, Austin, CONGRATULATIONS!
Oh, wait, here, did you get a program?
Oh, ok, good, glad you…wait…um…WHERE did I graduate from? WOW. If I’d have known, I would have probably taken a different route to getting my diploma.
(Seriously, this made me giggle, because, as mentioned, sense of humor of a 5-year-old-boy. PUBIC! When I was a kid we used to erase the “L” in “public” on the Public Library flyers and then laugh and laugh. If this was my graduation flyer odds are good I’d have laughed like a moron all through the ceremony.)
Well! So I’ve been spelling it wrong all these years? I feel idiotic.
So for some reason I’m not quite sure of, Mitt Romney put out an iPhone app? I don’t know, either. Apparently you can photograph yourself with Mitt in a variety of Mitt-related situations. Well, if I wanted to photograph myself being BORING, I’d just take a picture of myself blogging on my couch right now OH BURN. Wait, who got burned, me or Mitt? Both. I think both.
So anyway, in his iPhone app, there was a typo. I mean, these things happen. But this is…well, kind of egregious:
Oh. OH. Amercia! Amercia! God shed his grace on THEEEEEEEE!
I know, I know, THESE THINGS HAPPEN. Dude’s people spelled the name of the country he wants to run wrong. I don’t think that bodes well.
Also, since the app was that you could take your photo with any of the templates, people started doing things like this:
There’s better timing than when you’re running against a very intelligent incumbent for president to do something idiotic like this.
I wasn’t aware that the Romney camp was having such major spelling issues, but then yesterday I read this article over on Sprocket Ink and apparently, someone over in Romneyville really doesn’t understand how spell check works. This is a total worry. I don’t want to be living in Amercia come November, you guys. I like MERKA just the way it is. Well, mostly. MOSTLY I do.
It’s ok. Sh’cool.
So a few months ago in New York City, they painted a school crossing. So that kids wouldn’t get hit by cars. That’s good. We like not-dead kiddos. Also, New York City schoolchildren make me smile. Always. They always seem to have it all together, always.
So once the workmen were done and doing…well…whatever it is workmen do when they’re done, some loudmouth complainer was all, “Um, guys? Maybe…we might want to…repaint this?”
Heh. Shcool. It sounds like a slurry version of school. Or slang for “it’s cool.” “No, no, Bobby, no worries. Sh’cool. I can ditch math class to smoke weed behind the bleachers today. Bring your hackeysack, yo.”
Well, JFK had ’em, I guess there’s precedent
Apparently this happened on MSNBC lately. Aw. Poor Norah O’Donnell. I’m sure she was trying to keep her side-job on the downlow.
I guess she should just be grateful they got her skin color correct.
(Also, this chick totally stole my mom’s hairstyle.)
My dad SAYS weird shit goes down in California. Apparently so.
Listen, we would NEVER put up with stuff like this in New York. We have more DECORUM here. More CLASS.
Probably it was the fire that did it. Some people get SO EXCITED about fire. No joke. I see that on Law & Order and those types of shows ALL THE TIME. People who get all excited about fire. Apparently they all live in California. Who knew?
Aw, NO toad is a through toad, that would just leave you with a damaged toad.
Hee! Love. No, I would imagine it’s not a through toad. You should probably go around the toad.
And…because there’s nothing better than getting something PERMANENTLY WRITTEN ON YOUR BODY SPELLED WRONG…
And also anyone who sees this tattoo. They will also juge you.
This made me laugh so hard I snorted. I feel like this person lost a bet. What’s worse, the awesome typo (say the word “poporn” fast, it sounds great in your mouth) or the fact that he has this thing tattooed on him? I mean, I assume it’s a him. I can’t imagine a female did this to herself.
ZOMG this is the PERFECT tattoo for me! Perfect perfect. I LOVE THEATER. Oh, wait, it’s heinously ugly bordering on frightening and also TRADGEY.
Hee! “tradgey.” What a tradgey.
Yes! DOWN WITH THE MAN! SUBVERT THE SYSTSEM! Wait, what? How many “s”s are in that, anyway? Like, 47,000?
Also, REALLY? You thought this was a good thing to get tattooed on yourself somewhere? Oh, that’s just embarrassing. I can’t imagine that you’re going to want this in like three weeks, let alone ten years. “systsem.” Heh.
Oh, no. Oh, no no no. Also, this is her TRAMP STAMP. Like, this is going to be there FOREVER now. Wait, what if this is really her nickname? Not sweet pea but sweet pee? I don’t want to know. I DON’T WANT TO KNOW I SAID.
I’m SO jalous. I can’t even contain my jalousy. I think I might fly into a jalous rage, actually.
The tattoo artist signed this. Like he or she was PROUD OF THEIR WORK. Heh.
I have a typo story. Once, when I was young, my dad and I were coming back from a trip. And we drove past a person’s house. And they had one of those cutesy-cute “I named my HOUSE!” signs outside. It said the person’s name (which I won’t say – let’s call her Martha) and then Place. Martha’s Place. And like, butterflies or whatever.
My dad was all, “Huh. Martha’s Palace. That’s stuck-up of her, that place is like a trailer or something.”
I said, “What? No, place, not palace.”
HE TURNED THE CAR AROUND TO PROVE IT SAID PALACE.
Then when it didn’t, he was all, “She came out and CHANGED HER SIGN while we were driving back here” and still says “This is like Martha’s Palace” to describe things that he’s misunderstood or gotten wrong.
There, there’s a story from my CHILDHOOD. Nice, right?
Happy Tuesday! Use your spellcheck!