Nice work

George and I disected a bilingual newspaper today. Being a non-native speaker himself, he derived much joy from being able to pick apart all the grammatical errors in the English section of it, especially the ones in the letter from the editor.

Seems to me that among other things, editors are supposed to proofread and edit things to make them sound right. Apparently the editor of this one wasn't quite doing his job. As he said, some of the pages in the paper were "defected", as in they ran away to join other papers. Perhaps they ran away from other papers to join this one. Neither of us were sure.

At the grocery store I was ridiculed for my strange use of hand gestures while I explained that, given the choice, rats and mice will choose healthier and more organic foods over crappier equivalent varieties, because they are smarter than us.

My mother, you see, has an irrational prejudice against organic cereals, because the last time we bought some, mice got into them and mouse terds look suspiciously like some varieties of cereal out there, especially the ones with flax or wheat germ. She will not eat the stuff.

But instead of actually countering my argument with a well thought out rebuttal, she chose instead to resort to an ad hominem attack on the stupid way I was flailing my hands around in the air. Yes, it was stupid, but that's beside the point.

This meant, of course that I had to spin around in a circle a couple of times for no apparent reason because that's exactly what you do in a supermarket. I'm cool.

My sister put her hands within a metre of my neck, which made me squeal because yes, I'm that ticklish.

Then I took the shopping cart on the scenic route around the parking lot because I forgot where the car was.

Fin.