Mozart’s Fist


Inspired by the typo in this article that appeared in the Daily Mail, Mozart’s Fist is my new band name.

Stupid Autocorrect

As seen on a post from the Los Angeles Dodgers Facebook page:


Now I don’t know about you but I usually have some urine to spare. And if it helps the Dodgers get back on a winning streak then I’m willing to pee my brains out for that W.

But what I don’t get is how autocorrect didn’t catch Dempster and change it to Dumpster. The mind boggles.

Come on, Dodgers. You’ve lost 5 in a row and relinquished 1st place. Urine serious trouble.

Thrift Shopping

We love thrift shopping. There’s no question about it.

Sometimes you find some really cool stuff and other times you wander around aimlessly and just enjoy the selection of garbage on display, garbage that was once brand-spanking-new and hanging on a shelf of an amusement park or carefully selected by a gift-giver for their beloved Aunt Bessie. In some cases it’s just something that someone outgrew or just doesn’t need anymore.

Now it’s all carelessly just sitting amongst the rest of the used items with prices dispensed by a price sticker gun and applied by a person making minimum wage.

And it’s wonderfully amazing.

Granted, I prefer shopping at a place called Savers but they are not too close to us. The trade-off, however, is higher quality merchandise than most other thrift shops.

But today we went to Goodwill as we waited for the TJ Maxx next door to open – and that’s when the fun began.

This was one of the first items I saw when I walked in the store:


Um…Jewish maracas? Isn’t that like saying “Mexican gefilte fish”? And isn’t that price a little steep for being a thrift shop item? Look, I’m not perpetrating a negative stereotype here but that price is absolutely INSANE! Maybe, just maybe, they meant to label it $2.99 because after some Googling, I found said maracas (referred to as “Mazel Tov Maracas” for Bar and Bat Mitzvahs or other events) for as little as $9.99. Heck, one place was selling a dozen for $27.99.

Still, it’s not something you see every day – at least not this goy.

I did manage to find a few never-worn t-shirts from local 5ks from a few years ago that I ended up buying. It’s not like I like to pretend I run; I actually do as was evident in a post not so far back.

After finding my shirts, I decided to look through the collection of hats/caps which for some reason I try not to buy from places like this. While rummaging, I found this splendiferous pirate hat from Disneyland which Anthony was all-too-eager to model for me:

"I hate you, Dad."

This would have been a great find if Anthony’s name was Jimmy.

See, and this is what I don’t get: stuff from Disneyland is not cheap and generally kept forever as a memoir from a vacation or a day with the family. Why did Pirate Jimmy end up not wanting this anymore? Did something happen to him? Kind of sad but interesting to think about.

Finally, after coming across a baby blue trucker’s hat from Kennedy Space Center emblazoned with a silk-screened image of the Space Shuttle on the front panels, I saw this hat and literally was laughing to the point of slouching over and having aching sides:

Snip, snip!

Can you imagine trying to be on the field while wearing this hat and having your opponents constantly laughing at you? But maybe this was the [sic] Snippers’ strategy: to confuse the enemy with such a painful misspelling that the other team wouldn’t be able to concentrate on the game at hand and drive them into hysterics.

Hey, it worked on me.

Can’t wait for what I’ll see during our next visit.

Until then, I’ll have to live with the regret of not picking up this nifty jacket from Savers about a month ago:

Gotta love thrift shopping.

I Gotta Headache

Much in the way that there are distinct differences in the terms everyday and every day, there also seems to be a difference between gotta and got a.

Look, I understand that gotta is a bastardization and not in the dictionary but it seems to be an acceptable term–at least when used correctly. Whereas gotta tends to be a sufficient substitute for the terms got to or have to, got a usually means that you are in possession of the subject of the sentence.

Examples of gotta:

  • “Man, I really gotta go pee!”
  • “That’s gotta hurt.”
  • “I’ve gotta go and rake up the leaves. FML.”

Examples of got a:

  • “I’ve got a camera just like that.”
  • “The cat’s got a cold again.”
  • “Shit, I just got a summons for jury duty.”

But apparently, there’s a disturbing trend that seems to suggest otherwise.


Gotta door? I gotta door what? Maybe if my door had a problem and this ad read “Gotta Door Problem?” then I might not have an issue with it. But this? This is just stupidly lame.

(In Musclehead’s quote, by the way, I’d change the comma to a question mark and also, there’s no period at the end. Oh, and “5 time” should be hyphenated.)

Then there’s The Black Eyed Peas, an extremely overrated group that ranks right down there with my other “favorite” artist, Jimmy Buffett (read: I can’t fucking stand either of them). Here’s their red-buzzer moment:


I Have to Feeling. Nuh-uh.

I Got to Feeling. Wrong.

I Got A Feeling. Mmm, still not entirely correct but it’s more acceptable than the others and is therefore your winner.

Now using the suggestions above, here’s my example:

  • “Ugh. I’ve gotta headache and got a go and take some aspirin, then get to bed.”

See how it works? Now let these lads from Liverpool properly school you.

Take me home, boys.

Not So Fast, Mister

My job as a proofreader is only so in the most academic sense in that I am paid to find and correct mistakes. But the difference between this and previous proofing jobs is that I don’t have the leeway to grab my red pen and start marking up clean copies like crazy.

Rather, I have a clean copy and a redlined copy and what I do is make sure that the corrections on the redlined version have been made on the most current clean copy, and that it matches the redline character-by-character. That’s right—I have to proof one character at a time and in up to 24 languages, most of which I am not fluent in. You don’t have to be if you’re “proofreading” like this. It’s more like one of those Moose A. Moose puzzles where you have to spot the difference between the four pictures of fuzzy little bunnies.

As you can imagine, this leads to a good deal of frustration, especially when I’m proofing something that, if I were working anywhere else, I would mark the living crap out of and return to the artist that worked on it.

That was the case today when I was proofing a doctor’s form that, um, for the lack of a better term, sucked. Now if I may be so bold, I’d like to share these errors with you along with the corrections I would have loved to make but just am not allowed to.

Ready? Here we go. Continue reading