that is awesome.
I've been working in my current office for about six months, so I'm still establishing a real rapport with my coworkers, but there's one guy at the other end of the office who I immediately fell into the default American-male banter with [hang that participle- i don't feel like rewriting!].
We started out with the standard Chevy Chase/Fletch "Doctor" "Doctor" exchange, but over the course of time it's evolved to now we salute and refer to each other as "Admiral". I may have to draw the line at genuflecting.
fuck. i give up! you're not supposed to end a sentence with "with", and i did. mea maxima culpa!
That's not a participle, that's my wife!
hanging out there by itself, mike thought that final preposition was a dangling participle .
ben your powers of intimidation are really awe-inspiring. a couple of snarky grammar corrections and people are peeing their pants in anticipation of your arrival. that should serve you well in philosophy or law.
Is your wife a fan of the pre-position?
Me: I don't need an audience.
Why must you constantly assert your comfort with your alone-ness? Don't give into the fear monster, ogged, there is love and companionship out there for everyone.
Ogged just meant that he doesn't need an audience present to him physically, thereby re-establishing his concord with bloggy catechism, as established in the A-List Bull Nostrum Regnum.
Should have been Regnum Nostrum.
Remember, most a-list bull is no better than a nostrum.
Be it hereby recorded that if I ever see w-lfs-n snarking on sentences ending with prepositions, I will smack him into the middle of next week. It's OK to end a sentence with a preposition. (I don't think w-lfs-n has ever 'corrected' anyone on this or has any inclination to. I just want to state the acceptability of this dramatically.)
Don't worry, Matt, I'm on the side of the angels.
has any inclination to
...do so.
Re #14 -- just change an e to a y and remove the comma ... Does this change the meaning? Or maybe not.
Re #15.
In a pinch you don't even have to change the e.
And "No, no I do NOT!"
In a pinch
Or if you're a pirate.
Ah good, I vaguely remembered that, b-wo.
Apostropher--I think that the infinitival 'to'--which is what the sentence excerpted in 13 ends with--is not technically a preposition. (Don't start none, won't be none.)
infinitival 'to'
I'll just be sitting down now. Can I get you anything?
Does that exchange someone illustrate the unfogged commenters masochists-posing-as-sadists theory?
Fuck. Someone
Many of us are trying, few succeeding.
Many of us are trying, few succeeding.
I just may be lining up my options right now ... SCMT, you can get out of bed soon
Wait a second. You announce on my blog, a few weeks before our date, that you're about to get some? Dios mio!
ogged, you're the one who said it must be a sexless marriage. Can't blame a grrrrl for taking care of business.
Nice try, b-wo. Hiding your disappointment that you're not the chosen one ...
This is twisted and wrong. I can't promise that my post date blogging will correspond in any way to what actually happens on our date.
Oh, by the way, did that "find pg a boy" contest bear fruit?
Fairly standard story so far:
"Boy meets girl on blog. Boy trips (not quite falls) for girl. Girl finds out that she can bench-press boy. Girl gets some elewhere."
It isn't a done deal yet, ogged ... calm down!
And I thought we were liveblogging the date?
SCMT, I am not a thick woman. I cannot bench-press ogged. The problem is that he cannot bench-press me :)
Oh ... and re: the contest. Nope. Try again. (You can probably put 2 + 2 together and figure out what 4 is)
I swear the only person more concerned with my weight is my mother.
Anyway, do you really think that I'd ever get naked in front of someone who has a blog? Good grief.
Oh, I'm supposed to have a clue who you're about to bed? Um, nope...
Anyway, do you really think that I'd ever get naked in front of someone who has a blog?
You always wear the titanium superhero underwear, eh? Even when you're the only person around? (Since we are currently communicationg on *your* blog)
I cannot bench-press ogged. The problem is that he cannot bench-press me
I can't imagine a bench would be very comfortable anyway.
Oh, I'm supposed to have a clue who you're about to bed
Ummm, Labs, of course!
Er, when I put 24, 28, and 31 together it adds up to "It's a girl." But I may be reading that wrong.
You're reading that wrong.
Anyone who has read my blog for ... I guess 4 months or so? ... might be able to figure it out.
Yes, ogged, Labs. I fell for him after I saw his leathery leathery chair.
Wait, the "boy" then? After that, I'm all out of guesses.
oh, ogged, my sexless marriage husband. you are so smart!
By the way, don't think I didn't notice that you declined to enter the "find pg a boy" contest.
SCMT, I am not a thick woman. I cannot bench-press ogged.
My comment had nothing to do with your weight. My sister, who's a Size 2, might be able to bench press 150 lbs. (I'm tetchy about having my comments on a woman's weight misinterpreted, as an innocent and humorous attempt to justify taking a very attractive woman's dessert once own-goaled me out of any chance at sex).
My personal bet is that PG's arranging comfort sex with the ex, but I haven't read enough of her blog to make a considered guess.
Wrong again, I see.
(OT: out of curiousity, Ogged, (1) can you tell what browser most people use, and (2) if #1, are most people using IE?)
PG is totally not into the ex-sex scene. I suppose one might think it is comforting. I think a hug from ex is comforting. Sex would be ... inappropriate.
SCMT, I wasn't taking it wrong. I just couldn't pass the opportunity to bring up the thick woman thing.
(I'm tetchy about having my comments on a woman's weight misinterpreted, as an innocent and humorous attempt to justify taking a very attractive woman's dessert once own-goaled me out of any chance at sex).
This is truly, truly, hysterical. Was the dessert worth it? Or did you not get any of that either?
That, my dear, is "Day in the Life" stuff. That's why I said that your nude wedding story wouldn't make my top 10. And no, I didn't get the cake. I did get fairly nasty looks from all of the other women at the table, though.
And did you establish whether she got mad because you insulted her weight, or because you tried to take her food?
I must have oversold it, because there's really not much to it. I had been hitting on an attractive woman, and things were, if not encouraging, certainly not discouraging. She was your classic GND attractive: tall, thin, blond, and cute. I innocently suggested that, given her thighs (IIRC), she didn't really need the cake. I assumed, b/c she was pretty, it would be an obvious joke (like calling ogged fat). I was younger and stupider then.
GND?
Isn't there some complicated system for hitting on women that involves being insulting in the expectation that they will then fall all over themselves and have sex with you in an effort to gain your good opinion? The words neurolinguistic programming are coming to mind, although it doesn't look as if that can be right. It also doesn't sound like it works, at least not for you.
I assumed "General, non-descript," but goole suggests it's "girl next door"
Let's see if we can hit 100 explanations!
Isn't there some complicated system for hitting on women that involves being insulting in the expectation that they will then fall all over themselves and have sex with you in an effort to gain your good opinion?
I thought this was the "junior-high dating system." Also, hitting the girl meant you liked her, right (bring on the wife-beater jokes)?
Well, I don't know about being insulting, but not returning calls/email seems to work.
"I never ask girls out because I don't want to sound like some sexist asshole." (exasperated sigh) "I don't know how you put up with these cretins."
Unfortunately, it works so well that I feel compelled to defend the masculinity of the person I'm thinking of. In fact, I'm sure it's all my fault.
But that's hilarious.
"We all prefer a clean break but let's face it, a whimpster breakup can drag on pathetically, for weeks, even months, as he nobly attempts to 'just be friends.' The drunken apologetic phone calls, the Craigslist missed connections, the messages of his burning heartbreak sent through mutual friends. Or, for the most dramatic whimpster effect: he'll write a letter and then wait for it to rain in the middle of the night so he can bring it to you."
Ha ha ha.
"I never ask girls out because I don't want to sound like some sexist asshole." (exasperated sigh) "I don't know how you put up with these cretins."
Repeating your links?
You know, half the country's problems could be solved if women would (to quote W. Smith) "give it up, nice and eas-y." (Yes, I took the test. Safely metrosexual.)
Speaking of links, I wouldn't be surprised if someone already linked to this.
Yes, eb, I am repeating my links, when appropriate.
You wanna make something of it?
Nope, just verifying. It seemed like déjà lu all over again.
But if it bothers you, maybe we'd better step offline and have a little chat.
Isn't there some complicated system for hitting on women that involves being insulting in the expectation that they will then fall all over themselves and have sex with you in an effort to gain your good opinion?
LB: The problem with that scenario is that first one would have to find a girl who values one's good opinion...
