Let’s get one thing straight: you should always avoid standard public transportation. Get a car, ride a bike, use your actual human walking legs, I’d even grudgingly allow you to set foot on a bus, for god’s sake, but whatever you do, just make your way to your destination without having to set foot on a train. So fraught with danger and unpleasant tension are they, that if one is foolish, or desperate, enough to utilise them, they must take the most precise and delicate of precautions to remain anonymous, lest you breathe at someone the wrong way and have your peaceful carriage become the setting for a reenactment of the shoot out scene in Leonardo DiCaprio’s mansion from the movie Django Unchained.
A few handy hints for the on-the-go traveller who is far too busy (being an important, big shot man/woman-about-town, no doubt) to make time for the dreary underling, the tedious former associate, or the slightly mental, and (as you’ve just remembered) weirdly clingy ex-partner. Continue reading
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She questioned how I was so unable to see the ‘evidence of god’ all around me. She kept using the word ‘blind’. I hadn’t started the conversation. I was polite and respectful, even though she wasn’t. Don’t get me wrong, I have nothing against religious people in general, agree to disagree; but this girl was […]
So I’m chillin’ on the beach, striding through the calm water, and all of a sudden, this giant, friendly wave was all like, ‘Hey, bro! Let’s hang out!’, and I was like, ‘Sure, man. What’s up?’, and he was all like, ‘Have you met my buddies, these sharp, jagged rocks?’, and then he smashed my […]
Every night, at around about 3am, one of my cats will, without fail, decide to menacingly slink across the piano in our living room, sounding out a grim dirge that rings across the flat. Up and down on the lower note section of the keyboard he slowly stumbles, apparently until he’s absolutely positive that his […]
I like to dress weird. I’m the only person at my job who doesn’t wear a uniform, and not because I see myself as ‘above the law’ or anything quite so roguish, but simply because I like to express myself with every part of who I am. I walk stupid; I skip and stumble and […]
So, a friend of mine made the suggestion of a bunch of bloggers trying to write a short story based on a single photograph. Now, I tend to shy away from serious fiction, as I lost the taste for it several years ago (when I lost the taste for most other things), so rather than a straight narrative, it turned out to be something of an introspection. In any case, below you’ll find the picture, and below that you’ll find the story. Don’t judge too harshly, as I said, it certainly isn’t my forte!
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Poor little apostrophe. He knows his place, and more importantly, he knows when he’s not in it. Some, or all, will say that it isn’t really too important, and that as long as you get the gist of what is meant, then the grammatical semantics of the written word can probably fall by the wayside. However, if the boat of proper grammar truly is sinking, then I would rather let the weight of a million neglected semi-colons and brackets pull me down to the dreary depths of the abyss, than abandon ship and take refuge upon the misplaced and miserable apostrophe that hangs lifeless between the O and the S in the word: photo’s, or cling to safety upon the second f in the word of.
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This is a question I was asked recently, and I’ve decided to post the answer that I gave.
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