whoever wrote this is not an idiot: what wit!... people who purport to be writers should know their stuff, tho, i feel, & right now i'm angry about a situation in which i am looking down at "writers" who don't know their comma & pronoun usage, using that as an excuse to feel superior, which is a bad place for me to be (especially since, sue to laziness, i never capitalize when blogging)...of language, twain commented, "anyone who can only think of one way to spell a word obviously lacks imagination." my dad, whose name bears six letters total, is one of the brightest fellows i've ever known, but has always had trouble w/spelling... i am all over the place, p.o.ed about having been asked to become involved in something that really is none of my biz, a petty little turd i could've not stepped in, but smoosh, there i went... "we step on the toes of others & they retaliate, seemingly w/o provocation"... it's my fault i'm disturbed; still, can't help looking down my nose @ the retaliator, whose music is crap, i've always thought; who is known for writing blogs yet doesn't well-enough-for-me use basic american english mechanics (hence the graphic here); who is an associate of an arrogant & untalented local writer whom i to-this-day dislike (can you tell?); & who also, it seems from a quick online search, possesses what-i-think-are smug, provincial attitudes... so of course this dunce would have started the sh*tstorm she did.
but i didn't need to become involved.
i need to not do things just cause people ask me to, or even worse, just suggest that i do; why do i still want so to please people when they wouldn't care one bit if i were to stay out of frays? dad certainly would not have gotten involved; he is the mushroom, & i'm sure better off when i am, as well.
"don't borrow trouble," donna wisely would say. when i borrow trouble, most ppl seem pretty damned stupid, & i don't mean just bc they don't know basic punctuation or usage... i become the judge & they become greedy, venal, ugly, useless, detestable, hypocrites; then i snarl & pant & feel like a sap... if i mind my own business, i don't get on my high horse; i don't despair; i ignore dunces as well as decisions made by friends w/which i disagree. when i tend my own garden, i delight in my wonderful life & am appropriately supportive of others... but once again, i forgot, & once again, i'm the dumbbell, the one to pay... lessons come so slowly when you've a head of rocks & marbles.
that's all for now.
