I visited a site recently where the writer had posted about how we Americans don’t use proper English. ‘Course, she was right about that. But now I’m real self-conscious of how I write. Okay, so I should have written really in that last sentence. Like that. It’s makin’ it kinda hard to write anything. Ya know?
So like, I know that it behooves a writer to eschew archaic expressions, and like that. So I won’t be doin’ that.
And mixed metaphors are a pain in the neck and they oughta be thrown out the window. So I’ll watch that, too. Guess I’ll be avoiding clichés like the plague on top of it all.
I know better than to use hyperbole; not one writer in a million can use it effectively. Plus you shouldn’t be redundant; don't repeat yourself or say what you've said before.
Am I getting smart with you? How would you know? You guys.
Dang! Can’t write much more anyway. This computer is messin’ with me again. Something about “backing up my hard drive.” Heck, how do I put it in reverse?
You know, whom computers would destroy, they must first drive insane. No smart jokes out there about what a short walk that would be for me.
Now the thing is saying, “Smash forehead on keyboard to continue.” Wait, now it’s flashing, “Press any key to continue, or any other key to quit.”
Oh, boy, now it’s claiming “New mail not found. Start whine/pout sequence? (Y/N)” Well, duh, Yes of course.
Once, when my speakers where still speaking to me, it actually said out loud, “As a computer, I find your faith in technology amusing.” I had to disconnect the speakers then. The voices in my head are quite enough thank you.