It gives pause for thought. What, exactly, does a typist do?

The name of this blog came about in response to the dreaded cocktail party question:

And what do you do?

Um, erm, ahhhhh????

My resume is a dog’s breakfast. I’ve done so many things that don’t fall neatly under one professional designation or umbrella term. Other than “typist.”

So I would reply, “I’m a typist.”

“You mean you do data input work?” they would say.

“No, not data input work. I’m a typist.”

When I got “the look” I quickly rallied back with ” a very gifted typist.”

Not sure if it put them at ease, but it gave me a comeback, at least.

But on the question of what does a typist do, I’m at a loss.

Other than to say the obvious: a typist types.

What do you think a typist does?

When I had water in my basement, I called my plumber and he said it was my hotwater heater, which of course is a plumber’s job.

I called my  concrete man and he said it was my foundation concrete.

I called my furnace man and he said it was my furnace.

So I got a new hotwater heater. And there was still water in my basement.

I called my furnace man and he showed me where the overflow water was leaking out.

That solved the problem.

I’m glad I didn’t get the concrete man in to pour a new foundation.

And that’s were I write ‘em and file ‘em away – on my computer. And I only have one computer.

So come on, people. Fess up. Now. Who took it?

It was a column – about 600 words worth. I  wrote it last week and filed it away while I attended to other projects.

The plan was to open it up again today, polish it up and file it to my editor.

But when I looked in my file, it was nowhere to be seen.

Google desktop didn’t produce it, even with refined searches with exact words and dates.

My desktop search just shrugged its shoulders. There’s nothing in my extensive backup system.

No idea.

It’s like the thing vanished into thin air.

My computer’s fine.

There comes time when searching becomes self defeating and time-wasting.

So I’ve just written the thing again.

But still….

They supposedly from a book called Disorder in the American  Courts. I could no find such  book on Amazon or elsewhere. They do show up on a lot of blogs though (ergo they must be true!)

Whether or not they’re true, they are funny. Thanks to Dick for spending.

ATTORNEY: What was the first thing your husband said to you that morning?
WITNESS: He said, ‘Where am I, Cathy?’
ATTORNEY: And why did that upset you?
WITNESS: My name is Susan!

ATTORNEY: What gear were
you in at the moment of the impact?
WITNESS: Gucci sweats and Reeboks.

ATTORNEY: Are you sexually active?
WITNESS: No, I just lie there..

ATTORNEY: This myasthenia gravis, does it affect your memory at all?
WITNESS: Yes.
ATTORNEY: And in what ways does it affect your memory?
WITNESS: I forget.
ATTORNEY: You forget? Can you give us an example of something you forgot?

ATTORNEY: Do you know if your daughter has ever been involved in voodoo?
WITNESS: We both do.
ATTORNEY: Voodoo?
WITNESS: We do.
ATTORNEY: You do?
WITNESS: Yes, voodoo.

ATTORNEY: Now doctor, isn’t it true that when a person dies in
his  sleep, he  doesn’t know about it until the next morning?
WITNESS: Did you actually pass the bar exam?

ATTORNEY: Do you recall the time that you examined the body?
WITNESS: The autopsy started around 8:30 p.m.
ATTORNEY: And Mr. Denton was dead at the time?
WITNESS: If not, he was by the time I finished.

ATTORNEY: Are you qualified to give a urine sample?
WITNESS: Are you qualified to ask that question?

And the best for last:

ATTORNEY: Doctor, before you performed the autopsy, did you check for a
pulse?
WITNESS:
No.
ATTORNEY: Did you check for blood pressure?
WITNESS: No.
ATTORNEY: Did you check for breathing?
WITNESS: No.
ATTORNEY: So, then it is possible that the patient was alive when you
began
the autopsy?
WITNESS: No.
ATTORNEY: How can you be so sure, Doctor?
WITNESS: Because his brain was sitting on my desk in a jar.
ATTORNEY: I see, but could the patient have still been alive,
nevertheless?
WITNESS: Yes, it is possible that he could have been alive and practicing
law.

Here are the winners:

1. Cashtration (n.): The act of buying a house, which renders the

subject financially impotent for an indefinite period of time.

2. Ignoranus : A person who’s both stupid and a horse’s rear end.

3. Intaxicaton : Euphoria at getting a tax refund, which lasts until you
realize it was your money to start with.

4. Reintarnation : Coming back to life as a hillbilly.

5. Bozone ( n.): The substance surrounding stupid people that stops
bright ideas from penetrating. The bozone layer, unfortunately, shows
little sign of breaking down in the near future.

6. Foreploy : Any misrepresentation about yourself for the purpose of getting laid.

7. Giraffiti : Vandalism spray-painted very, very high

8. Sarchasm : The gulf between the author of sarcastic wit and the
person who doesn’t get it.

9. Inoculatte : To take coffee intravenously when you are running late.

10. Osteopornosis : A degenerate disease. (This one got extra credit.)

11. Karmageddon : It’s like, when everybody is sending off all these
really bad vibes, right? And then, like, the Earth explodes and it’s
like, a serious bummer.

12. Decafalon (n.): The gruelling event of getting through the day
consuming only things that are good for you.

13. Glibido : All talk and no action.

14. Dopeler Effect: The tendency of stupid ideas to seem smarter when
they come at you rapidly.

15. Arachnoleptic Fit (n.): The frantic dance performed just after

you’ve accidentally walked through a spider web.

16. Beelzebug (n.) : Satan in the form of a mosquito, that gets into

your bedroom at three in the morning and cannot be cast out.

17. Caterpallor ( n.): The color you turn after finding half a worm in
the fruit you’re eating.

The cat had her clumps shaved off this week.

And now she has a couple of bald spots on her back and behind. That would be her buttzillion. At least she’s trendy. (Don’t tell her, but it looks like a inverted Mohawk)

She’s also had the word that she gained back all the weight she’d lost. She’s back up to 6.2 kg (13.641bs). The vet gave her owner a good talking too about the perils of feline obesity.

Oh dear.

When will I learn to stop taking the cat to the vet. It’s always bad news, and expensive news.

So I put out a call for lyrics for Blood on the Keyboard.

The Tartan Taxidermist – also known as Tonardo – responded. Doc sent some lyrics too.

Today being VD, I thought I’d post them.

Here are Tartan Taxidermist’s lyrics

Blood on the Keyboard:

In the dark of night
Your love is thrown away
So be careful of knives
In the light of day

Accusations are hard to make
When you can’t point finger
But the blood on your keyboard
Shows the pain still lingers

Leave your screams of agony
Leave your need to eviscerate
You need warm arms around you
And in love to commiserate

Accusations are hard to make
When you can’t point finger
But the blood on your keyboard
Shows the pain still lingers

And here are Doc’s:

Blood on the Keyboard

(in slow bluesy, smoky voice)
Blood on the tracks,
Blood on the keyboard.

Blood on the tracks,
Blood on the keyboard.

I can’t reach my cocktails and snacks,
You gotta he’p me Oh Lord!

(blues guitar solo followed by two verses that compare the pain of your finger with the broken hearts of the world and poverty in Africa)

Thanks guys.

Happy VD everyone.

Please send in your best IMglishisms and I’ll post later.

AATK always at the keyboard

M8 mate or mates

ABT2 about to

MA mature audience

AFAIK as far as I know

MHBFY my heart bleeds for you

AFK away from keyboard

MIHAP may I have your attention please

AFN that’s all for now

MKOP my kind of place

AKA also known as

I mean, inaugural? Inauguration?

I had to look it up in a dictionary with real paper in real time. And I’m still not satisfied.

Shouldn’t it be inaugiril or inaugoral or inaugration?

But inaugural? No, sorry. That’s just wrong.

Maybe we should just chuck the whole inaugural thing and call it something else, something with a slightly  more sensible spelling.

Something like, say, coronation.

Hmmmm. Has a certain ring to it, don’t you think?

Yes, that works.

Coronation.

Almonds are not nuts. They are seeds or fruits or drupes.

But not nuts.

According to Wikipedia:

Botanically, the almond seed or fruit is not a true nut, but a drupe.

This factoid is yet another thing in the great pantheon of things that I did not know.

So if someone extends a bowl and says, “Nuts?” at your next Christmas par-tay, you can be a pedant and instruct them on botany of almonds.

Then you’ll be the life of the party. Won’t you?

So if almonds aren’t nuts, then does that mean that the Allman Brothers are not a band, but a bandsaw?