just for fun

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What’s Next?

I’m thinking of a career change. For many years now my job has involved… people. Everyday I’m confronted with people. I’ve decided that I want to try something new, challenge myself, break free from the tethers that bind me, spread my wings, and see just how far I can fly. Also, people tend to annoy me, and I’m tired of fake smiling.

Now, I don’t want to make the typical career change; swap my current desk for one in a different office. I don’t want my choice to be a lateral shift into something mundane. I want to dig deep beneath the façade of human importance and, as they say, ‘Go Big’ (or go home – which would be nice too, but, hey, somebody has to pay the bills).

To help sort out my options, I’ve made a list of possibilities.

First off, there’s always Queen of the Underworld. I could greet souls on the final leg of their journey, witness the torment of those who brought destruction and pain to those around them, become an arbiter of justice for the evil doings of individuals, and have access to all the pomegranates I can eat. Unfortunately, that’s a lot of time in the dark and not a lot of fresh air. I wonder if souls smell as much as their human counterparts. A gathering of that size, in that space, could be an olfactory disaster. Moving on…

I could be a menacing, horse-riding, arrow-slinging, two-breasted (yes, the whole cutting off one breast thing was just Ancient Greek propaganda) Amazon warrior. Living in a community solely comprised of women would certainly cut my annoyance with humanity by at least half. I’d probably be in the best shape of my life. And I could use my strength for good, fighting the good fight and beating down injustice with my incredible archery skills. I wonder how long it takes to acquire that skill.

Sticking with Greece, I’ve thought about heading straight into the business of snake-haired creatures who can turn men into stone. Imagine having the power to transform a man into granite with just one look. I mean, that’s what he gets for looking at me, right? Creeper. Walking around with a head teeming with hissing, slithering snakes would take a bit to get used to. I wonder if I would have to feed these creatures or if they ever rest at all. What if I want to wear a hat? Would they be containable? Too many unanswered questions for this one. Next…

Maybe I should try for something more straightforward, perhaps more pleasant and homey. I could take over for Deipneus, the demi-god of meal preparation, in particular bread-making. The thought of living in a home with the scent of warm bread permeating the air sounds delightful. To wake up each morning and have delicious warm bread slathered in butter could be a dream. Until I remind myself that I would be the one getting up before the sun to make the bread, then it doesn’t sound so wonderful. Can a demi-god outsource labor? I’m also reminded of my attempt at making homemade seitan and the subsequent vow to never see another bag of flour.

Then again, maybe I should try something with more of a passive income. I could fill in for Kokytos, the river of wailing. Specifically, the current that pushes the perpetrators of homicide to the Akherousian Lake, where judgment and punishment are meted out. I love the idea of witnessing divine justice… and wailing. I do love wailing. But again, there lies the issue of darkness, never seeing the sun, and a possible locker-room-smell situation.

Perhaps I should try for something more manageable, more in line with my tolerance and skill set. Animals. I love animals. I think I’ll look there. Maybe Cerberus needs a pet sitter. Three good doggos for the price of one… that’s a win-win if you ask me.

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Rabbits Afoot

The Easter Bunny may or may not come to my house this year, but I’m not taking any chances… so I found my own Easter Eggs. The Cadbury Creme variety. Yum!  I love this time of year if for no other reason than creme eggs!  Well, that and the Spring weather which, quite frankly, seems to be eluding us this year. What the hell is up with that, Mother Nature?  But, hey, if I’m honest, it’s mostly the creme eggs.

So spill the beans everybody – what’s your favorite candy? Something you can just go out and pick up everyday whenever you’re in the mood, or are you like me, and it’s that one elusive confection that’s only available during certain seasons or in a specific place so you’re forced to turn into a sweets hoarder when you finally do see it in a market?

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Telling Off the Grammar Check Troll

So, the other day I was writing a blog entry (as I do), and I was using some very colorful language (as I do). Nothing out of the ordinary. However, something unusual happened.

My grammar check program called me out. That in itself wasn’t the unusual thing that happened… I often draw the ire of the grammar check algorithm. Sometimes it gets so flustered with my writing that it has nothing useful to offer in response. It’s like “yep, I got nothing.” But this time, it wasn’t telling me that I used “their” instead of “they’re” nor was it warning me that a participle was clearly in danger of dangling. No. It was telling me that some readers might find my language offensive.

First of all, I’m not out of line. You’re out of line, grammar check. How exactly am I supposed to write about assholes if I can’t use the word asshole? To be clear, asshole was in fact the word that was flagged here. I’m sorry dear grammar check, but “jerk” just doesn’t offer the same believability of tone my readers have come to expect.

I mean, anyone who reads my blogs knows how I write. Most of my readers have even come to expect colorful sentence enhancers. And if you haven’t caught on by now, well, you will.

If anyone takes offense from my fucking language, they’re on the wrong blog.

Second of all, who the hell does this grammar check troll think he is? Really, who does this grammar check troll think I am? Listen, I write, but I’m no Shakespeare.

I can’t just pull previously nonexistent elegant insults out of my ass whenever I feel like. I can’t command language with the precision and poise of the great Bard himself — and I don’t want to. Sometimes, a good “fucking” is exactly what you need to communicate your point. Yeah, okay, so that didn’t sound right, but you know what I mean. And now that I think about it, Shakespeare wasn’t all that prim and proper, either. His work was pretty scandalous for his time, and the people loved it anyway.

I get that this advice to avoid colorful words may be helpful for some grammar check users. Like if you’re writing an essay for school or working on your resume. Employers might not like to see “organized the fucking files” under the list of duties. And teachers might have aneurysms if they saw “this book was fucking great because” as an essay introduction. Though personally, I’d find that book report a hell of a lot more interesting than most – and probably more accurate to boot, wouldn’t you?

But grammar check, this is my blog. My blog. And it’s the 21st century. After what we dealt with in 2020, I think it is entirely appropriate to call some people out for the assholes they are (and don’t even try me, grammar troll!). I get that my insults are more of the garden variety and not as powerful or as graceful as they could be.

But I’m okay with that. It’s fine with me that my insults are more like homegrown tomatoes instead of wild berries. They taste and feel different, but the job gets done either way.

Sorry, Grammar Troll. I’m not interested in you’re advice. Just kidding. Sheesh, yes, I know it’s “your.” Please don’t inundate me with helpful hints. It was a joke, grammar check. A. Joke.

And yes, readers. I know that he can’t really hear me. Still…