I’ve been a little quiet lately and it’s because very exciting things are happening! I can officially add “writer” to my resume. What?! You may not be as excited as I am, but I am PUMPED.
A local magazine here on our beautiful little Island is going to feature me as their new monthly humor columnist. My very first article hits the stands in six short days. I’m a bundle of
terrified delighted nervous excited energy. All of those things really. (Isn’t it funny how those emotions often go together?) I saw a Venn diagram once that summed up how I feel about writing perfectly, and thanks to the wonders of Google, I can share that with you today:
Luckily, I believe in doing what scares me so I’m surging forward happily along this new path.
I’ll keep you posted.
Now, onto the funny blog post part of this adventure (cause I know that’s why you love coming here):
I recently went out to dinner with a large group of friends and while the food was terrible the menu was hilarious. So hilarious that I just HAD to share it with you.
It started with this little gem:
Although I deeply appreciated that they put in the effort to make their white-out/blue pen corrections to the menu a fancy calligraphy project that failed on a spectacular level. Also, this mistake was not on all the menus, just most of them. So somewhere along the way the mistake was caught and corrected but then the decision was made that going back and white-outing the other white-out corrections
would possibly create a rip in the space/time continuum was just too much work.
Then we spotted this:
That’s actually a direct quote, that was followed by us breaking down in multiple fits of giggles because apparently we have the maturity equivalency of six-year-olds. Luckily our server found us amusing and not annoying. Or more likely, faked it really well.
Then we found this typo:
Then it became a game and I started taking pictures. Sadly, we only found one more:
Don’t get me wrong here, I’m not sitting atop my majestic stallion of a high horse all like “I NEVER MAKE MISTAKES! AHAHAHA, LOOK WHAT YOU HAVE WROUGHT FORTH IN YOUR MENU! YOU MUST NOW FOREVER HANG YOUR HEAD IN SHAME!” We all make mistakes, and I am certainly no exception. For example, spell-check has corrected me so many times in this one post that it’s all like “Seriously dude? What is wrong with you? Are you sure you graduated from an actual university? Cause it doesn’t seem like it. I’m concerned.” I’m even 99% sure I used ‘wrought’ incorrectly but a 30-second Google search hasn’t answered my question so I’m rolling with it cause it sounds nice. And despite spell-check AND Google my sister often texts me after I publish a post to ask: “Are you drunk? Because you’re missing entire words. Get it together.” And I love her for it.
So I’m not laughing at this restaurant so much as with it, because I’m pretty sure they also have access to spell-check too and multiple employees who could do some proof-reading but their minimum-wage salaries just don’t necessitate the will to care all that much. It wouldn’t for me either.
PS – Now I really want a Bacon Ranch Burger. Somehow the carrot sticks I’m eating right now just aren’t the same.
PPS – LIGHTBULB!!!! I could open up a restaurant and fill the menu with a shit-ton intentional mistakes and grammar nazi’s could play a game of spot-all-the-mistakes while they decide on their order. And if you spot all of the mistakes you get your picture on the wall or something. I’m a genius.
PPPS – Okay, downside: then all my customers would be grammer nazi’s. Maybe I’m not a genius.
PPPPS – That’s disappointing.
PPPPPS – A Bacon Ranch Deluxe burger would console me.