Wednesday, 18 November 2009

The Daily Dott - Tuesday - The Burning Ground




Using the morning as my cover, I slipped into the fields, undetected and unwanted, away from the animals but into the animal kingdom, where the young deer run free and their bums look like they have little white pillows attached to them.

And the sweet colour of the green grass and black soil remind me of those irresistible chocolate limes that I was sent to get as a kid, ‘the Millar ones’, it had to be ‘the Millar ones’ because if it wasn't 'the Millar ones' I would be sent back to the shop sporting a red face.

Returning from the fields I saw the resourceful sparrows, who had gathered outside my close, they had turned a puddle in the muddy grass, one that would barely cover the sole of a child’s boots, into a makeshift bathtub, washing away the dirt from their wings.

As I walked past the refrigerator in my hallway, the one that we always talk about moving, but will most likely still be here this time next year, I smiled inside and like a Klingon I said, “Today is a good day to die.”

It’s The Daily...nature is a language can’t you read.


-Whatever Icles your fancy
-Make like a caesarean section and cut it out
-Hittin’ Ducks



-Whatever Icles your fancy

There was two things that kept me awake last night, the first thing was the fact that I kept trying to think of words that end in ‘ICLES,’ I managed to think of only two, icicles and testicles, the latter was, of course, the other thing that kept me awake.

I can hear the producer of this show whisper in my ear, “Michael, your sister is reading this.”


-Make like a caesarean section and cut it out

Some people can spell, okay, they are really good at it, for whatever reasons and they may even be lucky enough to spell fluently and write comfortably without the aid of a spellchecker.

Some people can’t spell, okay, and that afore-mentioned spellchecker, if they ever bother using it, is a lifesaver to them. And as for grammar...isn’t that a member of the family who wears false teeth!?

When I studied Journalism in college one of the things I enjoyed, despite what I am about to say later on, was proofreading.

Proofreading basically involves going through passage after passage looking for mistakes and correcting them accordingly, it’s a skill that isn’t easy on the eyes because you are constantly straining them by taking in so many words.

Ironic then, considering the main aim of proofreading is to make the passage easier on the eyes!

Despite the good things I have said about proofreading one thing that I don’t like about it is people who are on Facebook, Youtube, MSN and Bebo and are constantly correcting someone else’s comments or things that they have written.

The worst thing about this for me is the fact that the people who are doing the correcting already know what the person is trying to say because they obviously have enough of a brain in their heads to fill in the blanks for the person...so there is no need to write it down and be a smart arse.

Now we have a culture of people who are afraid to make mistakes and spell things wrong, now we have this:

-----------
John says:
and i was walknig the other day
John says :
walking
-----------

John, I’m not stupid I know what you were trying to say!!

Everybody cut that shit out it is nonsense and you know it, people who spell wrong...man, we no what they mean.


-Hittin’ Ducks

Instead of receiving a handful of much appreciated Mothers Pride, as was hoped, the group of young, naive and innocent ducks received a fistful of dynamite instead and somewhere in the confusion, one of the ducks could be heard screaming, “Hell, even burn toast would have been better than that!”

And he walked away from it all, swaggering along the grey path that encircles the normally peaceful pond, as if he had achieved some sporting feat, as if he was at a bowling alley and he scored a strike, as if his girlfriend was watching him and he was the man, that man swagger, as if he might actually have a girlfriend to be proud of.

You Bastard!

I seen what you done Mr. Big Shot and I wished a grand piano fell from the heavens and crushed your pathetic existence.

I wasn’t impressed, Mr. Big Shot, let’s just say the ducks were not the only ones left with a bad taste in their mouths after you left, but I fixed that, I went back to the crime scene after my lunch and fed them lots and lots of bite sized pieces of yummy bread.

After all, that’s all they really wanted in the first place.


the wind and the willows and the piper at the gates of dawn...the wind and the willows and the piper at the gates of dawn...the wind and the willows and the piper at the gates of dawn

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