Posted on 04/23/2016 5:23:29 PM PDT by markomalley
They need to loose there privilege.
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Hah! Good
Irregardless, I could care less about those loosers.
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Another good posting!
I have some pet peeves. For example, “cold temperatures” ... Uh uh! A category error. The air is cold. The temperatures are low.
I’ve had to learn to with it.
“I’ve had to learn to live with it.” ... I mean.
Indeed? What do you feed yours? Mine had been eating dangling participles, but lately they've gone off their feed.
In eastern Canada one of the first questions a host asks is, “Jeet?” (Did you eat?) No one would write it that way.
I just let mine wander around in my head.
... Oh boy! A tortured metaphor!
I hear ya...
When she attended the Program Orientation a Black Woman Professor was explaining the paperwork that the Students needed to fill out.
She said it was necessary because “we need to know who you is”. Did I mention the Woman was a Professor?
I am sickened by the White Privilege I carry like a Millstone around my neck.
True. Most people compose correspondence much the same way they converse. This is a frightening thought to be sure.
If she doesn’t like calling the grammar people choose to use “right” and “wrong”, would she be happier with “winner
and “loser”? Why would someone worth hiring choose to sound like a loser?
“Our HR lady could count the amount of grads who still cannot differentiate between loose and lose.”
Our HR lady COULDN’T count the NUMBER of grads.......:;-)
“Lets eat grandma!
Lets eat, grandma!
Proper grammar saves lives.”
Should be Let’s.
Here’s another wonderful example I’ve come across which shows the importance of punctuation.
A woman without her man is nothing.
A woman! Without her man is nothing.
Dabnaggit!
Whoosh! Right over your head.
A professor? Sheesh!
My third grader’s black teacher sent home an announcement that the class was planning a “feeltrip” to go “wail washing.”
I be walking, I be talking, I be talking to the Unemployment Department on my ‘free’ Obambi phone.
The Millstone of White Privilege hanging around our necks gets heavier with each passing day.
From Cursive to Ebonics, we’re screwed.
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