I started blogging almost one year ago. My, how tempus fugit. My 10th post was viewed by a whopping nine of my undying fans, had three “likes,” and two comments (thank you Tess and Russel). Man, I was on fire with that one!
Back by unpopular demand, I am sharing it again.
Not long after I bought my iPhone, my daughter send me a text to say she received a B+ on a college paper she toiled over. If I recall, the prompt for the essay was asinine and about as clear as a foggy day in London. But that’s not the point here.
I responded to her text about the grade on her paper by saying “That’s excrement, honey!!!!!!!!” (Yes, I use eight exclamation points when I am excited.)
She wrote back with, “Geez, Mom. Don’t you think that is a little harsh?”
Damn autocorrect took advantage of my terrible texting ability and changed “EXCELLENT” to “EXCREMENT.” I meant excellent, excellent, excellent!!!!!!!!
So . . . the point here is autocorrect is both a blessing and excrement. Be careful out there.
Sorry, honey! I really WAS proud of you!
Brilliance in blogging.
However, brilliance aside, I’ve been thinking. A dangerous pastime, I know.
How is it that typos sneak into our work when we aren’t looking? I’ve read my manuscript a good 30 or 40 thousand times. One would think it would be squeaky-clean and typo-free, right? No-siree-bob! Each set of fresh eyes (thank you beta readers) that gaze upon my manuscript and mist over because of the powerful writing, still have the clarity of mind to spot another cheeky typo. Or, as I like to call them, sneaky buggers.
For example, I know the word should be “by,” so my eye and my brain reads “by,” even though the word on the page is “buy.”
I stopped buy the store to by a dictionary.
Or . . .
They need to made spellcheck foolproof.
Or . . .
I love you blog, Robin.
Cheeky-sneaky-bugger typos often rear their ugly heads in comments on blogs. Here is Robin commenting on a blog:
Read post.
Chuckle at post.
Write profound or amusing comment.
Proofread profound or idiotic comment.
Press “Post Comment.”
Scream “&)^#!*%$^&*” after spotting a typo.
Write second comment apologizing for said typo.
Rather than suffering from future humiliating “comment typo apologies,” I apologize to you in advance for comment missteps on my part.
Eons ago, when I was in my twenties, I was a secretary for a pharmaceutical company. I typed up a clinical trial report using a stone slab and chisel. Throughout the report I typed “reslut” instead of “result.” I’m surprised I wasn’t fired.
But here is a typo I can’t forgive. I took this photo at a convenience store where the sign has been proudly displayed for weeks. How did they miss the typo?
Really?
P.S. Gosh, if there is a typo in this post, will you gently wring my neck?
Robin Coyle 
Pingback: Ouch! A $6,000,000 Typo. | Smooth ReEntry
Ha ha. This is funny. The only thing I can add is a quote I heard many years ago. I suppose it can be applied to most any situation:
“The hurrier I go, the behinder I get.”
Tee Hee.
Isn’t that from Alice in Wonderland?
Pingback: Funny Signs « Robin Coyle
Typos are horrible little buggers and, yes, they do sneak up even after you read things several times. Where they catch me the most is in comments on other blogs as I can’t edit them after I press “Post Comment”.
Scott
I wish we could edit our comments on other’s blogs after we post them. It is maddening!
The worst thing I could think of would be to post a link and then find out it is a link to something you didn’t mean to send…
I despise typos. Twenty years ago there was no such thing as a typo in my work. Now, however, I use Dragon Naturally Speaking. It is only about 95% correct. By the time I finish correcting the typos with more typos, it is only 90% correct……..lol
Me too. I make typos when I correct typos! Go figure.
Was that last sign in Germany? HF
Yes. Herr Schmidt keeps getting his sign moved.
Oh god. “Excrement”? That is why I turn off auto-correct. I just cannot handle it; though I do feel a bit sad that I miss out on all the typo humor.
As for typos in books… they’re the reason I never try to read my books thoroughly after publication. The hassle of re-publishing puts me off. However, when a reader spots a typo I absolutely cannot rest easy knowing it’s there. Recently I had to correct one word where I wrote “nut” instead of “but”. Its placement in the sentence was quite awkward.
Why is it that others can see our typos but we have a hard time . . . no matter how careful we are? Nut, er . . . I mean but, we are all human.
‘I typed up a clinical trial report using a stone slab and chisel.’ = my favourite sentence in this blog.
I worked at a law firm years ago and one PA had to retype (on a typwriter) the cover sheet of a court document.
It turns out there is no Cunty Court after all! Kept us laughing all day, that one.
Before the days of computers and spelling chequers (sorry), I used to run a small magazine for a group I belonged to – to which I belonged – most of the content of which was news items culled from newspapers and TV.
So, having read the article in the paper, I then wrote it out longhand, edited it, wrote it out again (possibly more than once), and finally typed it up to be sent to the printers.
Before I put it in the envelope, I checked it carefully, and invariably found no mistakes, so off it went. When it came back from the printers, maybe a week or so later, I found all the typos! (And no, I can’t blame the printers, it was a photo process, not typeset).
Grrr!
Laurence
Grrrr is right. Why is that that as soon as you hit print and send a document to your printer, hit send on an email, press “Post Comment” on a comment, etc., the typos come out of hiding!? It is like they lurk in the shadows, damn them.
Sneaky buggers indeed!
I don’t use autocorrect on my laptop, but do on my phone. I’ve posted some rubbish on people’s blogs and realised too late.
When you’ve read your work more times than there are leagues under the sea, you know what it should say. Doesn’t mean that’s what it ACTUALLY says. 🙂
I think the more you read something, the LESS you see the words on the page. At least that is the case with me!
Laughed out loud at the stone and chisel – my admin days only go back to the manual typewriter, carbon paper and onion skin so you must be reeeeaaalllly old Robin. I provided admin support to the Public Relations committee and lived in monthly fear of attaching my name to the minutes of the Pubic Relations Committee.
Yes . . . I am ancient. I’m buddies with Moses.
Pubic Relations sounds like a great name for a strip club or ob/gyn office.
Autocorrect needs an autocorrect.
AMEN to that!
I try to read and listen to my post before I put it online, but I do not catch everything. You’re right about our eyes. Our eyes will look and see one word, but it’s meant to be another. Happy One Year!
Happy New Year to you too!
I’ve read my manuscript so many times I can’t see the words on the page anymore. I’ve read it out loud too. Helps with the pacing, as well as the plague of the typos.
Ugh, typos. I had enough trouble with them before autocorrect came into being. Now, I find I say the darndest things without even meaning to. For example, my IPad really wanted to substitute “itch out” for “without” in the previous sentence. One has to be ever vigilant.
iPads and computers have minds of their own, don’t they?
Wow. I thought it was just me. It seems I can misspell the same word, the same way, five times in the same paragraph, after I realized the mistake on the first one. The problem, like most technical issues begins and ends somewhere between the chair and the keyboard.
That is funny, Dennis. Operator error?
Number one cause of IT related outages!
I find reading aloud helps me discover typos.
Yes indeed.
At least if you put a typo in a blog post you can go back and edit it…problem solved. I hate it when I make an error in a comment because once it’s posted it’s there forever. The other day I was commenting on another blog about what a great proofreader I am and I wrote gunny instead of funny…grrrr. It was not funny at all!
That is so gunny! Er, I mean funny.
I think typo’s exist to see if we’re paying attention… Earlier this week I was nodding off reading a boring probity plan until where I was expecting to read “coal mine”, it was suddenly “cola mine”… mmm 😉 I’m particularly good at typo’s when entering a Facebook message or comment via my phone and while most people do the same, are used to it & figure out what you meant to write, I have one friend who never fails to respond with a comment “do you mean…?”.
I’m no slouch at WordPress comment typo’s either but in this circumstance I have tried very hard not to make one. It was a trying experience that I’m unlikely to repeat.
Congratulations on your almost first year 🙂
What is a probity plan? Sounds yawn producing!
I love typos that make friends and family smile, snicker, wink, and overlook. “Oh that Ella Dee. There she goes again. Writing pubic when she meant public!”
In this instance the probity plan is a guideline to follow to make sure the process we are undertaking is done with [legal] integrity… yes, boring.
My phone tends to substitute “i’s” for “o’s”, so post, can become pist…
I love every one of your pist.
It’s a curse.
Seriously.
Word.
Or worm.
Hahaha .. darn typo.
Gotta watch out for those resluts. I prefer my sluts new.
Ahem. I’ll see myself out.
I’ll not tell your wife about the new sluts. Your secret is safe with me.
Thanks! This is why I love you blog, Robin!
(Ha! See what I did there?)
I love you blog too, MIke.
One of my early jobs was proof-reading annual reports for government departments. One year I was proofing the published version and on the front page it read “Pubic Service Report” – This had been read by about 10 people who had not noticed the missing ‘L’ in ‘public’. Yeah – I decided to tell them instead of sitting back and giggling (which is what I wanted to do) 😉
It’s amazing how I can’t notice typos in my novels and need to rely on Beta readers (who can also miss them and that’s why we need about five of them!) It’s because our brains tell us the word that is supposed to be there and our eyes miss it (that’s my technical view) 😀
You should have ignored the pubic typo! Think of the stories you could have told your grandchildren!
My eyes will cross if I read my manuscript one-more-stinking-time looking for typos!
Totally agree! I think I’ve got them all and then someone say’s ‘by the way, I found a typo in your book’ – and I scream! 😉
I agree with Perfecting Motherhood… finding typos is simple, simple, simple… in other people’s writing. In mine, I agree… I find things that should never have escaped a first go-round of checks. Argh. It’s annyoing—–oops. Annoying. ; )
Damn typees. I mean tyoers. I mean typos.
typs drve my crazie!
meow two.
tok my un minit
Hilarious!
Glad you thought so!
Typos in our manuscripts will never be completely excreme— er, eliminated. Autocorrect is my latest nemesis, though. When my husband and I bought our first iPad for Christmas, I typed an update on Facebook. My comment about me and FB not getting along was turned into me and the FBI. How’s that for an auspicious introduction to the iWorld? 🙂
You know . . . I’ve had several calls from the FBI about you. Now I know why!
Oh, no! Maybe I should remind them how my grandfather used to help them…. 🙂
They said something about bones, flasks, and Irish Setters. Any idea what that is about? I covered for you and said, “Oh no. JM is a writer, not a gravedigger.”
Hmm, maybe they’re just having a hard time distinguishing fact from fiction. 😉
I have the same problem.
I have a pet peeve about typos, too! I beamed with pride when my son found a typo in his history textbook. The pride was of course for my third grader, not the publishing company. I seem to have the same thing happen as what you described, though: finding mistakes after pressing “publish”. Doh.
We are all human. But we should try to get our words right, too. Otherwise, we might end up with excrement!
By the way, the stats for your 10th post are close to my average stats. Humility is good for me!
I get a little thrill when I see a typo in real print. I don’t know why, except maybe it is that it shows we are all fallible. Even the high and mighty publishers. Good for your eagle-eyed son.
I’m headed over to your blog . . .
Alas, my blog has been quiet lately. Lots of “life” going on! Hoping to write more soon! But thanks for the visit. Let me know if/when you find a typo! –Alison
As long as you tell me about typos here!
Nope. Ain’t gonna do it.
Good to hear from you, Robin. 😉
Good to be back. The holidays, a house full of kids, and travel are over . . . for the moment.
Do you mean there is a typo in this post? Heaven help me.
No, I was going to make some smart remark, but declined. Maybe I’m becoming civilized?
Nah. 😉
Oh gosh . . . don’t tease me like that. What were you going to say? I want to know, Mr. Smarty Pants.
Well, I was very excreted about you’re one year anulversary, but I’ve commed down now. 😉
HA! That is so bad, it is good. Thanks for not holding back on the potty humor, as well as the intensifier. Well done.
Was that sign at Winco? It probably was.
No, but if it was, it would have fit right in!
One of the best was when a stranger who was buying my antique French table e-mailed ” we’re always on the loo” and went on to give me his phone number to make arrangements.
A few days later he e-mailed again, apologising… re-reading to get some details, he saw his weird remark..Apparently he thought he’d written “we’re always on the look-out for French furniture”:
Ha! I love it. I’m always on the loo too. Er, I mean on the look-out for French furniture.
Typos in other people’s blogs don’t bother me (unless it’s a repetitive thing), but if I find one in my own? Oy vey, the Type A Carrie kicks in!
Type A Robin kicks in too. GAWD I hate that. I cringe and hope no one notices my typie, tpe, type, hypo, I mean typo.
Isn’t Herr the German form of Sir? Was that photo taken in Germany? Because that would explain a lot …
Not a lot of Germans patronize that convenience store. But maybe they were trying to say, “Please do not remove, kind sir” for their few German shoppers.
Congrats on the one year blogging mark. I shudder to think how many typo-invested comments I’ve left on blogs. I try not to, of course. But auto-correct often has other ideas.
I sometimes wonder if bloggers read my typo-filled comment and think, “And she calls herself a writer? Please. Are you kidding?”
Congratulations on your blogiversary. That’s excrement!!
Yeah, it was pretty bad. But must you call it excrement?
Well, you know those stone slabs and chisels were quite touchy with the font. Giggle. This was fun, and boy how I can relate to those typos. Thanks for the laugh.
There is no back-space on a stone slab. I wonder how many tablets God went through before he handed the Ten Commandments to Moses.
Ha! God gets to number 9 and rights … I mean writes …”Thou shalp not … Aww, crap. Get me a new stone.”
You made me laugh out loud. Thou shall not make typos was number 11. God gave up.
We’re laughing out loud together 3,000 miles away from each other.
But it feels like you are right next door.Pop over for a glass of wine.
I’m on my way.
Awesome.
I love spotting typos, as long as they’re not mine! Our brains seem to be trained to ignore our own typos, how inconvenient! I love the autocorrect on my phone too, or when I use the Swype and it creates new words for me all the time. I think it gets confused by the English and French words I type, so it makes up new ones, mostly words that don’t exist in either language, like “thre” for “the” and “an4” for “and”.
Oh, and I once had a boss email everyone at the company on voting day, reminding us that voting was our public duty. Except he forgot to type the “l” in public… I also loved the Japanese subsidiary at another company I worked at that sold polo “shits” in their catalog…
That is a crack up. Polo shits. The stink already built in! In the Public Relation industry, the typo “Pubic Relations” is a standing joke, but one that slips in more often than not while writing press releases. Oh the horror.
Trust me, working in marketing, I’ve seen my share of typos and they never stop amusing me!
Other people’s typos amuse me. Not my own.
I seriously wish WordPress would allow you to edit your comments like Facebook does…. because once you mess up… it’s there for eternity!!
I agree! I’ve been tempted to correct innocent typos left in comments here. But what the hey . . . we are all human. I think.
Maybe Herr is the name of the person to whom the sign belongs?
I was thinking about you today Robin as you haven’t posted for a while. Nice to see you in my inbox!
Or the falling stick figure on the sign is Herr Schmidt?
I haven’t been around much. Between the holidays, kids being home, and travel . . . no time to blog! I think things are finally calming down. I hope.
How funny! (What a great kid story)
The brain gets bored really easy – and when you think it’s proofreading, it’s really just commanding the eyes to move back and forth and waiting to be done so it/you will go off and do something more fun. That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.
Have you heard about the proofreading trick of reading the work backwards? I’ve tried it and it gave me a headache.
Yeah, that’s a pain…maybe better to cut a slot in a piece of white paper and move it across: word by word/phrase in isolation…..still – making me sleepy, sleepy…..
I start thinking about the freezer needing defrosting.
I have a funny one too. I was sending a text to my son Tyler, about his brother Jeremy, who we all call “Jer”. I didn’t check and Ty sends back “Who’s Jerry?” I said “Your autocorrected brother.”
Also, many many years ago, when we were in college, Mr. Cheeky asked me to type a paper for him, of course I said I would. When he got it back, I had misspelled the word “business” throughout the whole paper, with one too many S’s. It really brought down his grade and I still feel awful about that. Oh well, he forgave me. Not the worst thing I’ve ever done, right?
I see misspellings in my work all the time and just cringe, so I know just how you feel. Nice pic by the way!
I always put too many s’s in the word bussssinessssssss too! And, I want to spell it buziness. Argh.
Say hi to Jerry for me. Tell Tyler he is your adopted son.