:: Me fail English? That's unpossible, Version 2.0 ::

In my day-to-day life, I'm surrounded with pretty smartpeople, supposedly*.

That said, twice yesterday one person I know said the following word:

Ambliance. As in, "The man had a heart attack, so somebody called the ambliance."

I wish I was kidding, but I'm not. I mean, one cursory glance at the word, and it's clearly obvious that there's a god damn U in there, not to mention the lack of an i.

Ambulance.

Ambulance. Ambulance. Ambulance.

Not that tough to pronounce. Say it phonetically and it's even easier**. But instead, this person chooses to pronounce the world as though he or she is four years old.

This is the kind of person who probably still says they're having p-sghetti*** for dinner.

*For the record, and while we're on the topic, people who pronounce this word as "suppose-ubly" are among my greatest annoyances. They rank just slightly higher on the list than people who pronounce the i in Detroit (De-troy-it). Drives me nuts.

**I just had a flashback 25 years to when I learned how to read, write and speak. "Now, just sound it out...."

***I have no idea how one would actually spell this word, if it were to actually exist. Psketti? Pasghetti? I have no idea.

:: Me fail English? That's unpossible ::

As some of you know, I have started scouring the MLS listings for houses, because I would like to – in an ideal world – sell my townhouse and buy a house in the spring or summer.

Over the past month or so, I have spent far too much time reading all the listings, and after awhile, the descriptions all begin to blend together and sound the same. It seems like every house is in a "great neighbourhood" or has "wall-to-wall laminate" or has a "great backyard for entertaining."

And while all these different blurbs are not exactly original, at least they make sense. I know what is being offered. As opposed to this one listing – for a delightful little rancher – that I found today. This realtor (or whoever wrote the blurb) describes the house in the following way:

"Quiet street, hardwood floors and big lot blend together for a very good time."

Really? That's your sales pitch? Really?!

Let me get this straight. This house is on a quiet street? Excellent. That's good – I'm with ya. But it also has hardwood floors that - and correct me if I'm wrong – blend together with the lot?

Are there no walls to this house? Are you selling me a circus tent? I don't understand. If I'm about to fork over $474,000, I better get some damn walls, that's all I'm saying.

And one more thing. This hardwood-to-lawn-because-there's-no-walls concept makes for a very good time? This statement is truly the most baffling of the bunch.

I don't get it – I thought I was buying a house. I don't necessarily want a good time, I want a nice place to live. You know, a spacious backyard, updated kitchen, maybe a nice deck. Advertising a house as a "good time" just doesn't make a lot of sense to me.

Are you selling me an event? Are you telling me that I am going to have a lot of fun buying this house? Or do you mean that I'll have an excellent time in the specific area where the hardwood meets the grass?

You've got a lot of questions to answer, real estate agent.

For starters, you can start by telling us why your MLS posting reads like it's a classified ad for an escort service that's been translated from English to Mandarin and then back to English again.

:: One for the Grammar Police and English majors ::

Yesterday, my boss asked a colleague which project/assignment he could expect from him by the end of the day. His response is a bad (ie: just not funny) attempt at humour made worse by, well, see for yourself...

Colleague: You've got the one on the nine-year-old philandstrafer – as opposed to a Tiger Woods philantherer, hahahaha.

Boss: You mean philanthopist and philanderer.

Colleague: Yeah... whatever... you get it.

Yeah, we do get it. Unfortunately.

Somewhere, Noah Webster's head is exploding. (Or would, had he not died in the 1840s)

:: Costco has brought shame to my family ::

Last night there was a family dinner at my parents' house to celebrate the numerous December birthdays in my family. There were three – my grandpa (Dec. 1), dad (12th), mom (14th), and now as of this morning, there are four, because my cousin Tracy had a baby girl early this morning, McKenna Caylin. Which is awesome.

To celebrate, my mom ordered a large cake from Costco and told the Costco bakery she wanted the cake to say "Happy December Birthdays!"

So when I saw the cake last night, you can understand my disgust when I read the cake and it said "Happy December Birthday's"

There's a difference there, I assure you. And though I was the only one who cared, it really bugged me, which likely comes as no surprise to my fellow members of the Grammar Police.

Still tasted delicious though.