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May 30, 2008
Ellipsis, I love 'em and use them far too often. It's a bad habit, but I cling to the practice because sometimes it's simply a lazy way to insinuate something without having to explain...well, you know.
Wiki defines ellipsis:
Ellipsis (plural ellipses; from Greek ἔλλειψις 'omission') in printing and writing refers to the row of three full stops (... or . . . ) or asterisks (* * *) indicating an intentional omission. This punctuation mark is also called a suspension point, points of ellipsis, periods of ellipsis, or colloquially, dot-dot-dot. An ellipsis is sometimes used to indicate a pause in speech, an unfinished thought or, at the end of a sentence, a trailing off into silence (aposiopesis).
The site goes on to say:
The use of ellipses can either mislead or clarify, and the reader must rely on the good intentions of the writer who uses it.
That's a pretty fair warning to anyone reading this blog. Ambiguity is probably one of my better traits, in fact. I am what I am....
sometimes often misuse ellipses and sometimes almost always fail to end a sentence that's ending in ellipses with the correct extra and fourth period, the extra ellepses. I hope that's simply an oversight, a typo, and not some character fault.... It probably validates the fact that I'm lazy....
I'm making an effort to be correct. That might not be good enough for you, but...there ARE ellipses haters out there....
If they find their way to this blog....
I've used ellipses a lot, and have even been accused by a former girlfriend that I also speak that way. Imagine that.... I will have to admit I do sometimes speak haltingly... and sometimes st...st...st...stutter a bit. She and I had a rocky relationship, to put it mildly, and it finally ended badly after ending semi-badly a half-dozen previous times. I'm sure you know how that goes.... I also easily lose my train of thought which isn't hard when one has a one-track mind....
I always preferred to quietly breakup with her via a note left on her pillow or in a sock drawer. As per the definition of ellipses, I would write my sad and tortured thoughts in a melodramatic way: "I gave and gave to this relationship, but you never even tried...."
I quit writing those the next-to-last time we broke up when she said "Is this another one of those damn dot-dot-dot letters?"
Did you know that "dot-dot-dot" is the Morse symbol for the letter "S" as in "SOS"? I wasn't for sure...some folks don't know things like that. "- - -" or "Dash-Dash-Dash" is "O". Just thought I'd mention that... Sometimes I use dashes -- when I think they're better instead of ellipses--but usually only one - or at the most, two --.
FOUR dots .... or "dot-dot-dot-dot" is the Morse code for the letter "H".
Just thought you should know....
Now you can spell "HOSS" in Morse Code.
My next essay:
"What's so wrong with using three question marks??? "
May 29, 2008
Ever watch Everybody Loves Raymond?
I never watched it; oh, I've seen bits and pieces of a few reruns, so I am familar with it and the cast. It's a cleverly written show, but I figure it will be on one channel or another (or several at the same time slot) for the next twenty years, so I expect I'll get to see each espisode a dozen or so times before I die.
Speaking of dying, I was saddened to hear of Peter Boyle's death back this last December.
(he's the one in the middle)
You may remember his role as The Monster in Young Frankenstein.
That brings me to this: If you're a regular reader of this blog (and the question would be: Why WOULD you be?) you would most likely know that I'm always "seeing double". No, not in vision, but seeing similarities between people. For instance, I sure think my friend's betrothed looks like a famous movie star and I had a post the other day where I thought the angel atop the empty tomb at the Groom Cross looks like my ex-wife.
As I've mentioned a hundred and forty two times before, I really love to go over to the Groom Cross and am particularly intrigued by the bronze statue's faces. One of my favorite stations is the first one, where Pilate is washing his hands and leaving Jesus to His fate.
After gazing into Pilate's face a dozen times and taking dozens of photos, sorting them, cropping the best ones down to how I like them, I've decided that Pilate has a double, too.
May 22, 2008
In my fridge, but I'm not sure if it's old meat or new cheese.
What Your Fridge Says About You
You don't need a lot of stuff to be happy. There isn't a greedy bone in your body.
You tend to be a fairly thrifty person. You splurge occasionally, but you're mostly a saver.
You don't tend to be a very adventurous person, but you do surprise everyone now and then. You have a bit of a wild side.
You try to be responsible, but you don't always succeed. Your heart is in the right place though.
You are likely to be an alcoholic.
The results say I'm an alcoholic only because there's nothing in my freezer but a couple of bottles of beer.
May 21, 2008
Another from the archives:
My wife and I were sitting at a table at my high school reunion, and I kept staring at a drunken lady swigging her drink as she sat alone at a nearby table.
My wife asks, 'Do you know her?'
'Yes,' I sighed, 'She's my old girlfriend. I understand she took to drinking right after we split up those many years ago, and I hear she hasn't been sober since.'
'My Word!' says my wife, 'Who would think a person could go on celebrating that long?'
So you see, there really are two ways to look at everything.
May 19, 2008
After I first put this in, I thought I'd probably have a zillion votes for "There's a best part?" but I was pleased to find that wasn't the case. (3 votes, and one was mine. Hey, I believe in being honest!)
I'm ending the poll a little early because I'd like to put in a semi-weekly (translated: "every now 'n then) one.
Thanks to all the folks who visit this pathetic excuse for a blog! Love to my friends, to hell with the rest of you!
From the Word of the Day feed in the right-hand column:
obtrude \uhb-TROOD; ob-\, transitive verb:
1. To thrust out; to push out.
2. To force or impose (one's self, remarks, opinions, etc.) on others with undue insistence or without solicitation.
I would've guessed it was an ill-mannered gynocologist.
Another from the email archives
A Marine and a sailor were sitting in a bar one day arguing over which was the superior service.
After a swig of beer the Marine says, "Well, we had Iwo Jima."
Arching his eyebrows, the sailor replies, "We had the Battle of Midway."
"Not entirely true", responded the Marine. "Some of those pilots were Marines, in fact, Henderson Field on Guadalcanal was named after a Marine pilot killed at the Battle of Midway."
The sailor responds, "Point taken."
The Marine then says, "We Marines were born at Tunn Tavern!"
The sailor, nodding agreement, says, "But we had John Paul Jones."
The argument continued until the sailor comes up with what he thinks will end the discussion. With a flourish of finality he says, "The Navy invented sex!"
The Marine replies, "That is true, but it was the Marines who introduced it to women."
From the email archives
I was walking past the mental hospital the other day, and all the patients were shouting '13....13....13'.
The fence was too high to see over, but I saw a little gap in the planks and looked through to see what was going on.
Then some bastard poked me in the eye with a stick, and they all started shouting '14....14....14'.
New ToTG item from FEEDJIT over in the right-hand column, down near the bottom.
It doesn't keep statistics like a regular counter; instead, it displays a fairly anonymous listing of who visits, where they entered from and to where they go.
I'm gonna have to be careful about my entries/exits, looks like.
May 16, 2008
Too bad he also wants to ship all of our water downstate and rob land owners while doing so.
Yup, that's what I'd have got every day growing up here in Texas if I'd have been named this .
|Your Noble British Name Is:|
I used to have a really good online friend from Great Britain; she once told me she was going to ask for more money from her employers because she hadn't had a raise in the seven years she'd worked as a janitor (that's what she did, more-or-less) in a school's art dept.
A few days later she told me she hadn't received any more money, but they had re-named her job duties: from now on, she was an "Art Technician, Class III". She seemed satisfied with that, so I suppose there's something to that old saw about British people, God Bless 'Em, preferring a title to a raise.
Call ME what you want, just "show me the money".
May 11, 2008
(from the email archives)
I just want to thank all of you for your educational emails over the past year.
Thanks to you, I no longer open a public bathroom door without using a paper towel.
I can't use the remote in a hotel room because I don't know what the last person was doing while flipping through the adult movie channels.
I can't sit down on the hotel bedspread because I can only imagine what has happened on it since it was last washed.
I can't enjoy lemon slices in my tea or on my seafood anymore because lemon peels have been found to contain all kinds of nasty germs including feces.
I have trouble shaking hands with someone who has been driving because the number one pass-time while driving alone is picking your nose (Although cell phone usage may be taking the number one spot)
Eating a Little Debbie sends me on a guilt trip because I can only imagine how many gallons of trans fats I have consumed over the years.
I can't touch any woman's purse for fear she has placed it on the floor of a public bathroom. Yuck!
I must send my special thanks to whoever sent me the one about poop in the glue on envelopes because I now have to use a wet sponge with every envelope that needs sealing.
Also, now I have to scrub the top of every can I open for the same reason.
I no longer have any savings because I gave it to a sick girl (Penny Brown) who is about to die in the hospital for the 1,387,258th time.
I no longer have any money at all, but that will change once I receive the $15,000 that Bill Gates/Microsoft and AOL are sending me for participating in their special e-mail program.
I no longer worry about my soul because I have 363,214 angels looking out for me, and St. Theresa's novena has granted my every wish.
I no longer eat KFC because their chickens are actually horrible mutant freaks with no eyes or feathers.
I no longer use cancer-causing deodorants even though I smell like a water buffalo on a hot day.
Thanks to you, I have learned that my prayers only get answered if I forward an email to seven of my friends and make a wish within five minutes.
Because of your concern I no longer drink Coca Cola because it can remove toilet stains.
I no longer can buy gasoline without taking someone along to watch the car so a serial killer won't crawl in my back seat when I'm pumping gas.
I no longer drink Pepsi or Dr Pepper since the people who make these products are atheists who refuse to put 'Under God' on their cans.
I no longer use Saran wrap in the microwave because it causes cancer.
And thanks for letting me know I can't boil a cup of water in the microwave anymore because it will blow up in my face...disfiguring me for life.
I no longer check the coin return on pay phones because I could be pricked with a needle infected with AIDS.
I no longer go to shopping malls because someone will drug me with a perfume sample and rob me.
I no longer receive packages from UPS or FedEx since they are actually Al Qaeda in disguise.
I no longer shop at Target since they are French and don't support our American troops or the Salvation Army.
I no longer answer the phone because someone will ask me to dial a number for or which I will get a phone bill with calls to Jamaica, Uganda, Singapore and Uzbekistan .
I no longer buy expensive cookies from Neiman Marcus since I now have their recipe.
Thanks to you, I can't use anyone's toilet but mine because a big brown African spider is lurking under the seat to cause me instant death when it bites my butt.
And thanks to your great advice, I can't ever pick up $5.00 dropped in the parking lot because it probably was placed there by a sex molester waiting underneath my car to grab my leg.
I can no longer drive my car because I can't buy gas from certain gas companies!
If you don't send this e-mail to at least 144,000 people in the next 70 minutes, a large dove with diarrhea will land on your head at 5:00 PM this afternoon and the fleas from 12 camels will infest your back, causing you to grow a hairy hump. I know this will occur because it actually happened to a friend of my next door neighbor's ex-mother-in-law's second husband's cousin's beautician...
Have a wonderful day...
Oh, by the way.....
A German scientist from Argentina , after a lengthy study, has discovered that people with insufficient brain activity read their e-mail with their hand on the mouse.
Don't bother taking it off now, it's too late.
May 6, 2008
(Or how I learned to quit worrying and not trust online translators)
I've had the Gay Irish Dwarfs Blogger site bookmarked for quite some time, but rarely visited it after discovering it via the "Next Blog" button at the top of the page. It caught my eye because of the "odd" title -which I find amusing- and I wonder if he ever has heard of this MSN Group? His title is a LOT less ambiguous, I'll give 'im that.
Most of the post titles are in English, but I wasn't for sure what language the rest was in and hadn't had the time nor inclination to find out. Speeding through my favorite blogs this morning, I clicked on the blog and a new post caught my eye: Lazy Days
Boston Marathon var passe koselig. Mye folk som gauket i gatene. Mer interessant er det alltid å ta turen innom en bokhandel. Følgende bøker ble med hjem: To Kill a Mockingbird av Harper Lee, Cat's Cradle av Kurt Vonnegut, The Dangerous Summer og The Sun Also Rises av Hemingway. Leste akkurat siste sidene av The Moor's Last Sigh av Rushdie. Bra bok, spesielt liker jeg dragningen mot Andalusia, noe jeg selv føler på kroppen.
It's easy enough to see that most of that paragraph is about books and a mention of the recent Boston Marathon. (duh) The rest piqued my interest, so I attempted, through trial-and-error, to figure out what language was being used. (which would tax my feeble mind, esp. as I have trouble understanding E. Texas accents)
Since the title has "Irish" in it, I first thought I would need a Gaelic translation, but a quick search didn't turn up an online translator and instead I'd have to submit the text to forums.
Uh, no thanks. (I could do without the potential humiliation)
It seemed more "Dutch" to me, or even German, but it didn't translate well, but the fact that a few words WERE translated made me think it might be Scandinavian. I tried Icelandic, Swedish, then got a fair translation with Norwegian.
Bingo! I think. The problem lies in having to translate the translated text. Here's the translation.
Boston Marathon stayed be convenient cosily. A great many people as gauket in avenue. Additional interesting is it always to get the boom innom a bookshop
Here's what I think it means:
It's expensive to stay in Boston. Lots of people watching in the street. It starts falling apart there: It's also interesting to get the "boom in a bookshop"???
Uh oh. Not for sure I even WANT that last part translated.
The last bit in the paragraph translates thusly:
Read accurate lastly pages at In spite of the fact that Moor's Blame Sigh at Rush hour. A good one book , especially likes I the allurement against Andalusia , any I herself senses at body.
O-kay. Another book review, one that the Muslims would chop his head off over and get extra virgins allotted to them in Paradise because he's also gay. I think he's identifying with a female character in the book. I dunno, like I said, I'm not good at this.
Har stort sett brukt dagen på å lese, sittende i solen. Høydepunktet var de to brasilianske vaskejentene som tryllet leiligheten skinnende ren. De la endatil sammen mine skitne klær. Noe som på en måte forplikter meg til å bruke de litt mer. Så veldig skitne er de heller ikke.
The online translation:
Has large sett cast-off day at to peruse , in office in sun. Climax were they dates back to Brazilian vaskejentene as conjure the occasion bright clean-cut. They allow continueous comparison mine dirty clothes. Looked like in a way am committing at to consumes they a little more than. Saw awfully dirty are they nor.
Oh boy. Had a day off, or goofed off at the office getting some sun. The end (I hope that means the end...or maybe I don't) dates back to some Brazilian something and the memory is fresh and pure. Someone's always criticizing the way he dresses. Someone gave him a dirty look because they thought him fat but they're dirtier than he is. So there.
I can't dwell on this sort of thing, it'll drive me nuts. Especially this:
Har spist to burritoer i dag. Føler meg skitten, som om jeg har brutt uskrevne lover og etikette. Men godt var det.
When it translates to this:
Has eaten dates back to burritoer today. Senses my dirt , as if I've broken uskrevne laws and label. But be comfortable stayed facts
Whatever it means, I'm glad he's tellin' the truth. Wonder if "burritoer" is a "burrito" and if he's talking about eating them for days or not having one until today after only eating dates? Maybe he had a burrito on a date? I wonder what he means by "senses my dirt" and what sort of laws he thinks someone else might think he's broken?
May 2, 2008
Mental Floss has a new petition they want to submit to General Mills, makers of that American icon, Wheaties cereal.
The website claims there are 10 Sports Heroes You Won’t Find on a Wheaties Box. Among the names are a few familiar ones: Willie Mosconi, Paul Newman's billiards coach in The Hustler, Phil Hill of Formula One Racing fame and John Harkes from soccer. The others include an American sumo wrestler, polo stars (regular and elephant) and for some reason, an American-born bull fighter.
I dunno why someone can't simply spring for $34.95 and get their own personalized Wheaties cereal box ?
Wheaties used to be among my favorite cold cereals, along with Total and Post Toasties. (notice a trend? A flake liking flakes) Even as "healthy" as those cereals are, they contain far too much sugar and carbs for me these days.
I remember the last "hero" Wheaties box I bought and saved for the longest time.
I had a crush on Mary Lou.
Tell ya who I'd really like to see on a Wheaties box: A sumo wrestler playing elephant polo with bull fighters being whacked into the goal.
With cue sticks.