Things That Annoy Me, But Shouldn't

Here we go.


Dan had a test coming up that Leah had already taken. She spoke to him.
I will give you all the answers. It will be easy...

Pam interrupted.
No way. He is going to do it on his own.

Jessie chimed in.
He has to read more. Then he has to read it again.

(sparkling? no. possible? Yes. Write the sparkle. Make it work!)

 

I'd be pleased as punch to accept your challenge, but I have no idea what you're talking about. What, exactly, do you want me to do, and what is the 'problem' I'm to write around?

 

For me, it's champagne glasses. If it's a 1930s period piece set in the US, those champagne glasses had oughtta be coupes, not flutes. If they get that wrong, I believe nothing else. Next thing ya know, I start sniffin' around to see what else the bums got wrong.*

On the plus side, extra points if it takes place in the 1930s and the coupes are hollow-stemmed.

*Yes, I am a nerd about vintage details. Including the Humprey Bogart voice above.

 

I wrote an example of a couple of posts beneath my original.

 

I work in commercial printing and am a student of the art of printing, and I often catch historical movies and dramas using fonts that weren't created till modern times. I recall some Sherlock Holmes movie I watched years ago wherein Watson throws down a newspaper in anger, showing the day's headline splashed across the front page. The paper only marginally looked like a periodical from that time period. It makes me crazy! They spend all that energy getting the costumes right, and the newspaper is all wrong.

 

I think it is similar to a challenge I gave myself awhile back.
Basically he wants you to write a story, but you can't use any
commas, quoataion marks, question marks, exclamation marks,
or anything else outside of a a period. So basically no real dialogue,
and short sentence structure only.

 

Ordered art supplies to get before the trip. It's been almost three weeks and when I checked my order today it wasn't even sent.

According to their estimates it'll be here latest Thursday, but unless they send it today I'm not sure if it'll even get here before Friday.

If it's not here by Friday I'll have to buy paper elsewhere which suck because I've already paid for paper that should've already been here.

Wonder if the aqua brush I ordered from Amazon will have reached Lost's house before I leave England...

 

Nay nay, there must be dialogue. Lose some conventions.
Come on. Try it. Chicken! Bgaawk!

 

I did once. Though the one I wrote was 2000k min,
second person, and not allowed to use dialogue at all.
So in a way, I kinda already have.

 

Nah, I meant @Earpie! Bgawwk!

 

My fellow Americans, our long national nightmare is over:

House Lawmakers Can Now Purchase Menstrual Products With Office Funds

[headline from The Huffington Post]

 

We put my dog in her kennel at night to sleep.
In the morning when she hears my fiancé get up, she instant starts crying and whining and super excitedly scratched at her kennel door.
.....she doesn't do that when I get up. I'm clearly not the favorite

 

A man to whom I say that yes, I do want "a little bit, not too much" chilli sauce on my kebab, who pours a ladle-full of it on my meat, shoves the kebab in my face and says, "Like that?"

May life repay him.

 

"Hello, How're you doing?"

"I'm not doing well, man. My cat died, lost my job, girlfriend was banging my roommate, mom and dad lost their home in a fire an I'm thinking about ending it all or joining a cult. What about you?"

"Jeez, man, I only asked how you were doing. What's up with all that?"

That question, "how're you doing?" is a really stupid way to greet strangers.

 

I get annoyed when people say "How are you doing, all right?" I'm always going to tell you I'm fine, but it's rude to suggest the answer for me.

 

Damn it. I was just thinking today how nice it has been spending the majority of my social media time in a place where I never have to read people's opinions about the president. Then I came across the 240+ page thread about him and only him. Now I'm having trouble staying out of it. God give me strength! If I post even one thing, I'll start getting alerts, and I'll answer those alerts, and I'll get into arguments, and it will never end! I'm so sick of hearing my real world friends and family bitch about politics on Facebook. I don't even want to know what any of you people think about that stuff. It's like I just found out there's a window to hell in my happy place, and part of me is itching to open the blinds and see what's happening there.

 

Don't do it. The Debate Room is like the Bog of Eternal Stench, one toe dipped into it and you're ruined forever. Plus, unless you've got a catheter and some Spetnaz-issue crank, you'll never keep up. Scratch your nose in that place and there are three pages of angry rebuttals and counterclaims before you can get your fingers back to the keyboard.

 

I came out of the Debate Room victorious, covered and dripping, in Ugly. Pride. Arrogance. Opinion. If you go there with just one, you will come back with a minimum of two. And I still owe a hundred bucks (I haven't forgotten).

 

https://www.newyorker.com/magazine/2019/02/18/the-confession?mbid=&utm_campaign=aud-dev&utm_source=nl&utm_brand=tny&utm_mailing=TNY_Fiction_021619&utm_medium=email&bxid=5c5a0580b43a616f584377f1&user_id=56326711&esrc=no_source_code&utm_term=TNY_Fiction

My hobby of 'getting annoyed by the famous writer's writing.' This time the issue is commas, and a depressing story.

Precis

To us bays of the mountain village she was an elusive wisp, and some folks called her the shag-monkey, a freebie encountered in long grasses of our distant pastures. Framed by sunlight I found her in the grass one Tuesday and raped her although she was probably kind of a baby, y’know maybe 15 or 11? Then the old guy shepherd, he raped her also. She liked that experience even less than my raping, but hey, everybody raped her all the time, probably..

She stayed for tea in the long grass and a piece of cake, but I never saw her again. Back in the village I told the other boys about my encounter in raping nicely. They liked my story.

Years later in New York City I had a nightmare about strangling a cat. The cat smelled of garlic and tea and cake and like that little girl in the hills of Raping all those years ago. FIN.

 

*Processor error* Don't press like! *Protocol violation* Must press like... can't... *click*

*Violation* System overload... *faints*

 

I took out the 'but.' I had three buts...life imitating art. art imitating life.

 

Just got Netflix a couple weeks ago and I'm trying to introduce Mrs. A to Monty Python. It's...going?

 

I've tried to introduce girls to it as well, with results probably about the same. One day...

 

We've got the language barrier thing as well. The show is subtitled here, but it's harder, I think, to get into absurdism when you're used to seeing crap translations of serious stuff. Kind of like watching a subbed French or Italian flick and trying to decide if which bit is supposed to be funny and which sad.