Since George doesn't like to hear me complain while he sleeps and I've grown a bit hoarse, I figured I’d gripe online about Chatswin. So, here's the thing about this place -- it turns people into idiots. For example, I'm blogging. I'm fifteen years old and I’m sharing my unfiltered thoughts with the world. It's a bit much, no? It is. And the only reason I feel okay about it is because of the crap my classmates are putting online. I make no pretense of being a wordsmith -- though I did just use the phrase "make no pretense of being a wordsmith" -- but these people's posts are hopeless, both intellectually and grammatically. Below are the greatest violators I could find on short notice. Bad as they are, something tells me we’re nowhere near the bottom of the barrel.
"Tissa’s a lesbian. Check the boots." Boots are not a sign of lesbianism, Dalia. If they were, every cowboy and foot soldier in history faced one hell of an uphill battle. (Aside to the reader: Dalia wrote this while I was within spitting distance. How do I know? Because she showed me the post mid-Tweet to ask if she spelled my name right. And then spelled it wrong anyway.)
"mi dog Thru up in Mi purse!!! no Dog! no! =P" I sit behind this girl in AP English. AP English. Not going to touch the mi’s because I wouldn’t know where to begin. What I will say is that a teenager owning a purse dog worries me more than a kindergartener owning a smartphone.
"Gonna dress you up in my love." I don’t know who the dressee is here, but the dresser is Mr. Wolfe, my high school guidance counselor. So that’s normal.
These took five minutes to track down. I’d dig deeper tonight, but aneurysms scare me. I miss New York.