Friday, 29 October 2010
The above photograph is a fusion of Punk Rock meets Pet Rock meets Bedrock.
This here blog is all about grammar anarchy and writing it any old way I like. No plot. No sense. No rules. Or, in the words of those musical anarchists, The Sex Pistols, 'No future'. You see, already, 'it dont make no sense' and that is a double negative and I don't care! This will be a mishmash of moronic mishap material mayhem mostly making me more mildly mystified, maybe.
No antagonist and no protagonist. No boring description of each character in details I don't care about. No, this crap will have no sense of direction and will be completely disjointed and will not change your life for the better and will use 'and' as many times as I care too.
And thus, I continue with a whole bunch of dots...........The following are all those brilliant thoughts I had for a posting, but forgot to write down. The ones I've said to myself, 'I'll remember that incredibly clever thought. I'll show 'em how good I can write!' That would be the incredibly clever thought that I've forgotten, five minutes later. Okay, the following are all those clever and deeply profound thoughts I forgot.
Did you enjoy that? What? I told you this posting had no rules and, at this point, if you are still reading, you might dare continue and read some of the fascinating stuff I did remember to write down. Then again, you might just think why I bothered. So here you are, some random, totally unrelated garbage, or if you prefer, rubbish. Have you watched baseball? That would be cricket without the confusion. There are two leagues, the National League and the American League. In the American League, they have a dude who is called the 'designated hitter'. All this dude does is hit and when I say 'hit', I mean the baseball. What you might not know is that in the American League, they also have a guy who is known as the 'designated shitter'. You see, there aint much time in baseball to go for a dump. Not even the 'seventh inning stretch' is suffice. I mean, how would it look if it's the star player's turn to go to bat, bottom of the ninth, two out, bases loaded and trailing by three runs and everyone's waiting cause the star dude is having a dump. Thus, the designated shitter has one on his behalf. Problem solved. Now, the National League, based on this, might just think about getting a designated hitter and a designated shitter.
The above paragraph was stupid and a rather feeble attempt at humour (humor). Of course, ofcourse, I don't care, So the guy making desserts looked at me in horror. 'Oh dear, I'm a trifle short!', he yelled. 'What are you talking about? You must be at least six feet tall', I responded. I really hate the expression 'at the end of the day'. I hate it almost as much as folks who say, 'to be honest', which makes me wonder if they are not usually honest. And when you say, 'you know', or 'you know what I'm sayin'? No, I don't know and I don't care. At the end of the day, to be honest, you know, you know what I'm sayin'? And the next person who says, 'I'm not being funny'....well guess what? You aint! Kinda' like this blog.
So to end this grammar anarchy blog I was thinking about doing one of those writing 'mistakes' that leads one into the trap of formulating a run-on and on and on sentence that leaves established or aspiring writers gasping in disbelief that anyone would have the audacity to dare make a sentence drawn out and thus taking away any credibility of the writing because a shorter sentence would have been so much more correct n' stuff and so I will not do that and I'm now wondering just what the 'n' stuff', is.
Oh yeah, if you really care. What do you think that drawing is on my shirt? That would be the drawing below the exclamation mark!