[Disclaimer the first: I am unapologetically opinionated. This is me… full-bitch mode… blunt and honest… ranting about things I hate. Please don’t be offended by anything I may say… it’s not personal. Except to me.]
[Disclaimer the second: I’m sorry my posts are too long. For a-to-z, the recommendation is somewhere around 300 words per post. I’m way off. I will try to rein it in a bit in my future posts…]
• • •
b | bad grammar
Before I proceed, I need to clarify something. My blog-writing style is ‘write how I talk’ so, of course, there are broken grammar rules. Incomplete sentences, random use of italics, and of course, excessive use of ellipses. Per someone somewhere, this is acceptable under some circumstances… like blogging. No, it really is. I saw it on the internet. It has to be true if it’s on the internet.
And we’re off…
I try not to correct anyone’s poor grammar. I do. Except the kids. I correct them because I want them to be aware of their errors and learn from them. But other people? I try not to point out their mistakes. I guess it’s rude. Condescending? But on the inside, I’m screaming… itching to say something… dying to correct them. It kills me to keep my mouth shut. But… I don’t want to come across as a know-it-all bitch. [Actually, I kind of do… but I also want people to like me.]
Ted Mosby, Grammar Policeman.
If I slip and correct someone, it’s not to be a condescending bitch. (I know, too late…) I just want the bad grammar to go away. Here’s the worst ‘bitch’ part, though: You know how sometimes we find out someone has appalling political leanings or doesn’t like cheesecake? And because of those things, we never look at that person the same way again? No? Just me? I really am a bitch. Because, for me, bad grammar kind of does the same thing.
I do not love a lot of things about myself, but I can be a bit snobby when it comes to brains. Which sort of sounds like I am a brain connoisseur, but I am, in fact, not a zombie. Maybe this is why bad grammar pains me. (Not because I may be a zombie… but because I’m an intelligence snob.)
Of course, the reason this torments me is irrelevant. What matters is this handy list of grammar tips I’ve graciously provided. It is not my intent to chastise anyone who has ever made any of these errors. I’m just offering a valuable service. You’re welcome.
their/they’re/there, your/you’re, its/it’s
This is really not difficult. They’re means ‘they are’. You’re means ‘you are’. It’s means ‘it is’. If you are trying to say any of those things, use the damn contraction!
‘Your a dipshit’ means that ‘a dipshit’ belongs to you. It is your ‘a dipshit’. But the dipshit isn’t something you have. It’s something you are. You are a dipshit. You’re a dipshit. See how easy this is?
It’s is not possessive. I know this one is a little troubling. But as noted, it’s means it is. You wouldn’t say, ‘The cat licks it is butt.’ No. So it’s is wrong. You’d say, ‘The cat licks its butt.’
Moving on from cat butts…
Oh my god… shoot me! These are two different words. Other than being close in spelling, they have nothing to do with each other.
If you lose your pants, maybe it’s because they’re too loose. Get yourself a fucking belt. If you want to lose weight, stop eating so many Cheetos. If you want to loose weight, well, does that mean you want your weight to be looser? Like, you want to be more… jiggly? I’m guessing no.
Alright… put your pants back on.
should HAVE, could HAVE, would HAVE
Of is not acceptable anywhere here.
I should have [not should of] listened to Sandra because then I would have [not would of] used the correct words and I could have [not could of] saved myself all kinds of embarrassment.
I’m not sure why, but for me, this one is right up there on the cringe-worthy scale with ‘ain’t’ which, of course, isn’t a word. It makes me shudder. And sometimes makes my head explode.
Yikes, sorry for the mess. Please pass me that towel? Thanks.
The word dangling makes me laugh. What the hell am I? A 12 year old boy? Anyway…
A dangling participle can make it impossible for someone to understand what you’re trying to say. It can also make your writing hilarious when that is not your intent.
A participle at the beginning of a sentence should modify what immediately follows.
Being a total bitch, I have few friends.
‘Being a total bitch’ describes me – the ‘I’ in the sentence – which immediately follows the participial phrase. If this is not the case, things can get messy.
Being a total bitch, my friends are few.
Who’s the bitch now? My friends? [Well, yes, some of them are, and I mean that in the best possible way!] But clearly, the intent here is to say that I am a total bitch. Not my friends.
Now, your participle is dangling. You should probably pick that up.