“Really, he thought, if you couldn’t trust a poet to offer sensible advice, who could you trust?”
~ Neil Gaiman, The Graveyard Book
Writes all the things. Most of the things never write back.
“Really, he thought, if you couldn’t trust a poet to offer sensible advice, who could you trust?”
~ Neil Gaiman, The Graveyard Book
I have paper at bedside to capture story ideas. Apparently my next story will be m cich lne dnye to reyps thyius agonfix? I dec can tell you.
Someone asked me if I could explain Schrödinger’s uncertainty principle. I told them that I wasn’t sure, but until they watched me try, I both could and could not.
“Your recipe calls for a can of cream if mushroom soup. Was that a typo?”
“No. The labels was torn off after the ‘cream of’ part, so it MAY be mushroom – or it may be cream of something else.”
By the way, Autocorrect, when I say I saw my first robin in town, I do NOT mean I saw my first Robin in town. NOT THE SAME.
Oh, Autocorrect. I’m telling someone how to make corned beef, and say “You mix up a brine,” which Autocorrect changes to “You mix up a bribe.”
NOT THE SAME THING, AUTOCORRECT.
The TBR pile at bedside seems to have grown a foot taller.
OK, it didn’t do it all by itself. It had assistance.
Everyone please buy tickets for the next Powerball drawing. They won’t be able to pay me the 1.3 billion dollars if you don’t.
I wonder if there’s a drug to cure the obsessive delusion that everything can be cured with a pill.
Side effects may include diarrhea, headaches, amnesia, logorrhea, and exploding toenails.
Not to mention any names, but a friend of mine recently confessed that she harbors mise en place fantasies.
Autocorrect changed that to “muse en place,” which also sounds useful for a writer.