Joe turned to my friend in English class and said, “fart is a verb.” Joe was kind of sweet on her and thought this would be a good pick-up line. In point of fact, fart can be either a verb or a noun. I won’t bother to conjugate it for you, or come up with adjectives and adverbs to describe it. I shall simply point out the obvious: grammar is not the way to a woman’s heart.
I was dutifully reading Grammar Girl’s Quick and Dirty Tips for Writing, in preparation for the final edit of my book. I made it to page 50 before I had to concede that there was nothing quick or dirty about it. You can imagine my disappointment. If you’re going to write a book about something as dry as grammar, you should at least throw in a couple heaving breasts and throbbing manhoods. (Heaving and throbbing are adjectives).
When I was studying for a test on the Internal Revenue Code, I included some flashcards that would make things more interesting:
Joe’s Pleasure Palace employs cocktail waitresses who are paid by the hour, and strippers who are paid by the lap dance. Your entry requirements for the 401(k) plan are one year of service and employment on the last day of the year for all your employees. Does this comply with IRC §410(b)? The answer is: only if you have topless waitresses. It tends to get tricky if the strippers belong to a union.
I assure you, that’s a hoot for trust accountants.
I have found that editing my book is much more pleasurable than repeatedly slamming my head in the door. I’m basing my work on a vague recollection of diagramming sentences in the seventh grade and children’s songs. What could go wrong? By the way, my seventh grade teacher was a sadistic, baby-eating, language nazi. His initials were S.S., which kind of says it all.
Am I going to waver or falter in my dedication to the English language? Probably, but fortunately, (and surprisingly to my dedicated readers) at no point do I use the word “fart” in my book. “Poop,” I can’t swear to.