Agent 00Comma: “If I don’t tell you, then I might have to kill you . . . for irritating me.”

Warning!

Below is a list of grammatical un-pleasantries which, upon hearing, can send even the most resilient Grammar Agent into a rabid editing streak. This list should not be read by small children, people with heart problems, or the Super Dialect Intolerant. If your hand begins to itch for a red pen while reading the list below, please separate yourself from this blog immediately and contact a physician or your local poison control. 

                ***I am Agent 00Comma, and my pencil-stache approves this message.

To begin:

               1) “I don’t care to,” means you do not care for, or desire to do, whatever it is I just suggested to you. It doesn’t mean you don’t mind. You’re not saying you want to help me, you’re telling me you don’t want to help me. Jerk.

                2) Yu’uns. This is not a word. You is both multiple and singular. I am not a yu’un, I am a “you.” What species is a yu’un?

A wild Yu'un with a pencil-stache appeared! Do you fight? Or run away? 

                3) Tortilla is not pronounced TOR-TILL-A. It’s pronounced TORR-TI-YAH. Respect the Spanish, bro.

                4) Quesadilla is not pronounced QWUES-EH-DILL-A. It’s CE-SE-DIY-A. Respect the Spanish, bro.

                5) “Totes,” are bags. Not adverbs. Ever.

                6) “Amaze-balls” is a contraction between amazing and balls. Two words that should not be contracted together for any reason. Except in playpens at Chuckie Cheeses. Those are some amazing balls.

              7) “Do you mind if I play with you guys?”

                 “Yeah, sure.”

                 Never say yes to a “do you mind” question because you are telling them yes, you do mind. 

                  And that’s mean, bro.

What are some of your grammar pet-peeves? Or just pets, if that's how you roll. 

Agent 00Comma

              

  It occurs to me that English is possibly the devil of all languages. Yet, I am deeply, horribly, wonderfully in love with it. Does that make me a demon?

                I work as a writing tutor at my college. If you ignore the sounds of wailing and gnashing of teeth in the background, it’s a really fun place. There are nerds galore and people who actually know who Steinbeck and Khaled Hosseini are. One girl, who will remain nameless (Ester), even hosts Lord of the Ring parties. Needless to say, I’m among my people.

                In this place full of literature, MLA formatting, and wonder, I enjoy my life and my job and helping people improve their writing. Most people come out of our sessions happier than they came in, with that I’m-going-to-die expression wiped cleanly off their little college faces. Most of the time, people are grateful for my help. Most of the time, people are glad to hear my words of wisdom, for teaching them how to fix their writing issues.

                Sometimes, they aren't.

                Sometimes, they think I’m an editor, or a machine, because I’m an English Major. Sure, I have Super Comma Mistake Vision, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to go through and mark up every mistake you make. And no, before you try to point it out, that’s not my job. I’m not an Editing Tutor. I’m a Writing Tutor. I help you write better. As in, I’m not going to do the work for you.

                What’s that? You don’t want to revise your thesis because the paper is due in two hours?

                Then you should have come in earlier.

                You think your writing is perfect and you don’t see the need for an organization revision?

                Then why did your professor send you here?

                I’ll tell you why. Your content has problems. It’s not the commas—though they’re not flawless, to be sure (no one’s are)—it’s that you don’t give a crap about what you’re writing, and I can tell. I’m a Word Choice master. I’m picking up on the “screw you Professor What’s-your-name” context clues.

                Now, let’s try imbuing those context clues in the paper with a more positive message.  

  

                This is a call to respect Tutors, Teachers, and Professors everywhere! If I told you all the annoying stories I’ve collected in working with/teaching other students, I’d have you crying, laughing, and feeling guilty.

Hmm. Now there’s a thought.

                Agent 00Comma—Tales from the Grammar Front lines—on Thursdays, anyone?