language

Oh, Shift!

/ Diane Henders / 12 Comments

A few years ago, Dave (one of my trainers) was writing a workbook.  He proof-read it and passed it over to me.  I proof-read it.  Then I got thirty copies printed up and delivered them to him the night before the class.

He met me at the door, looking slightly nervous.  “Uh, there’s a typo in the workbook,” he began.

I shrugged.  “Whatever.  We’ll fix it in the next batch.”

“Um, okay, but…”

He was relatively new to my company, and we were still in the getting-to-know-you stage.  He looked me square in the eye.  “If you were typing the word ‘shift’, which letter would you absolutely not want to leave out?”

Sure enough, we were instructing our students to shit-click.  I laughed all the way home, then decided that perhaps not everyone would share my puerile sense of humour.  I called Dave back and got him to hand-print a little bitty ‘f’ in each workbook.

My brother’s keyboard actually looks like this.  It’s something about the way he types.  The wear pattern on my keyboard is different, but I’d love to be able to really, truly, shit-click.  And it seems to me that if you use a computer for any amount of time at all, a “Shit” key is not only appropriate, but practically necessary.

Some of my best memories involve typos.  Back in the dark days of my interior design career, I spent a lot of time writing technical specifications, and I also checked specs that other people had written.  I caught lots of typos, but my favourite was the spec that demanded a “certified horney man”.

Hell, I thought they all came that way.  There’s actually a certification for that?  Who does the testing?

Needless to say, the spec was duly modified to read “journeyman”, as it was intended.  But I still think it would’ve been fun to send it out and see what we got.

I also had an unfortunate tendency to discuss “tenant turkey packages”.  These were actually “turnkey” packages (for tenants moving into a new commercial space), but it got to the point where I couldn’t tell if I was seeing “turnkey” and reading “turkey” or vice versa.  And the accompanying mental picture was truly disturbing.

And while we’re in that, er, area…  Try sending out a proposal to redesign your client’s pubic areas.  See how fast you get a response.  I’m not even going to get into all the double-entendres associated with that.  It really is too bad that “public” is so easy to mistype, but it certainly makes for some interesting conversations.

Speaking of mistyping, my blasphemous fingers also insist on addressing my friend Chris as “Christ”.

What’s your favourite typo story?

Possum Panini

/ Diane Henders / 9 Comments

The other day in our staff meeting, we started talking about roadkill.  Don’t ask why.  Let’s just say that our staff meetings are rarely predictable.  The conversation devolved, not only to roadkill, but to the eating thereof. 

And Sharon blurted out “Possum panini!”

And I said, “You know, that just sounds naughty.  It’s like you’re using a euphemism for an itty-bitty possum  p…”

Subsequent embellishments on this theme left us holding our sides and weeping tears of laughter/agony.  It took awhile before we actually got back to business.

Afterwards, I started thinking about the oddities of the English language.  Some words just sound… rude.  Even if they’re not.  Lists of these have already been compiled, by people far more eloquent and twisted than I.  Just Google “words that sound dirty but aren’t”.  Hell, there’s even a Facebook group.

It’s easy to see why most of those words made the lists.  They’re pretty close to other words that generally don’t get used in polite company.  But certain “innocent” words bother me, too.  Here are a few:

Flaccid – Maybe because the “fla-” phonetic is an onomatopoeia for the sound of a limp dead fish being slapped against a hard surface?  I dunno.  The word just grosses me out.

Flabby – Probably because it’s flaccid’s cousin, but jigglier.  You know what I mean.  We’re talkin’ Jello smacked against a hard surface.  Same sound effect, different visual.

Puce – Maybe because it looks/sounds too much like “puke”?  Because it means “flea” in French?  Because it’s part of the word “prepuce”?  Because it’s necessary to wrinkle your nose when you pronounce it?  “Peeuuwss…”  So many possibilities, but it offends me on some deep level.  It seems to me that the colour it describes should be revolting snot-green, not dark brownish-purple.

Juggernaut – I haven’t a clue why, but this word just annoys me.

Scenario – Seems filled with self- importance.  It reminds me of the clichéd B-movie villain twirling his moustache and chortling.  Mustachio?  Scenario?  Maybe there’s some association there.

Indeed – I know the reason for my antipathy towards “indeed”.  A certain writer for a certain magazine uses it so frequently that I’ve developed a permanent allergy.  I’ve wanted to write a letter to the editor for about three years now, but I can’t figure out a way to do it without sounding like a wack job.  So I included it here instead.  Somehow it’s more acceptable to look like a wack job on my own blog.

Despite my hang-ups, I still use these words when necessary.  When it’s the right word, ya gotta use it.  Well, except “juggernaut”.  I draw the line at that.

What about you?  What words drive you crazy for no particular reason?  Or am I the only one with this problem?