Thursday, September 29, 2011

Grammar: A Part of this Balanced Breakfast.

I want to start off by saying that I'm not an expert, although I do take grammar seriously. I always try to use correct grammar, but sometimes if I'm in a hurry I will ignore capitalization or misspell something. I often don't use a paragraph when I should. But I have a pet peeve, and that is misused commas. Granted, some commas that are unnecessary still work in a sentence. Take this sentence for instance: "I could hear crickets chirping, and the occasional frog."
     The comma was unnecessary, but it still worked. But the commas I'm talking about are horrible, disgusting, filthy drops of sludge dripped from the engine of the anti-grammar train as it rolled through the sentence, spreading its misinformation across the world. Here is an example of that: "My favorite movie is, The Puma Man written by; Derrick Chong."
    I'm sad to say this was actually something I saw written (OK, it wasn't actually about The Puma Man, but the sentence structure is the same;) on Facebook. But something that is even sadder than that... I was watching the news, and there was a segment about the world's shortest person. He had to overcome challenges, such as bullying, health issues, and not being able to wash his hands in the sink like everyone else, but the worst part was when the news anchor said "He doesn't know the meaning of the word 'can't'."
    That seemed worse to me. I mean, contractions are NOT that hard. I mean, it's C-A-N-T, then you put a comma after the 'N' and you just raise it up!

                                 Anyway, what's your pet peeve? Tell me in the comments. If you don't have a blogger account, post it on our Facebook wall.

Master Chef.

PS- This is what part of the alphabet would look like if Q and R were removed.

PPS- Don't forget to 'like' our Facebook page.

Sunday, September 25, 2011

Horror Story pt. 2

 When we left off, Tracyn had just discovered the wonder of baked beans. As she grew older, her obsession grew stronger.
      One day, she had a friend over for lunch. While her friend, Wyndi, ate a Caesar cilantro sausage soup salad sandwich from Cincinnati, Tracyn ate baked beans, like she did for every meal. Wyndi reached over with her fork and stabbed a baked bean. Tracyn boiled with anger. Her face turned red. She figuratively exploded with anger. Then she settled down. She had a plan.

      That night after Wyndi had gone home, Tracyn left the house with a knife, a gallon of baked beans, and evil in her heart. She got to Wyndi's house. She pulled out the knife, and cut the Bush's logo into the yard. She then threw the knife into the street. Then she realized it was a perfectly good knife, and picked it back up and carefully put it in it's sheath. Then she busted open a window, climbed inside the house and found Wyndi's room. She creaked open the door. She could hear the quiet breathing, but as she grew closer the rate of the breath grew quicker, suspenseful violin music played- she lifted up the blankets, opened the lid of the baked beans- Wyndi woke up screaming, her eyes wide in terror, but it was too late. Her feet... had been covered in baked beans.
     Where is Wyndi now? She lived, but she was never able to recover from the horror of her feet being covered in baked beans.
           Where is Trayn now? Nobody knows. Some say she died with the last of her supply of baked beans. Some say she was put into a mental institution. But some say... She's still out there, waiting to exact revenge on anyone who eats baked beans. Who knows... She could be outside your window RIGHT NOW.

                                     The end.

                            Or is it? BWAHAHAHAHAHA

                                                          It is.

Sunday, September 18, 2011

Horror Story

Once, there was a little girl named Tracyn. She was an extraordinary girl. Well, not extraordinary. Pretty normal, actually. In fact, she was so normal, she was often called "Normal Tracyn", because her friends were not very imaginative with nicknames. Normally, she went to school, and she had normal conversations with her normal friends, but none of them were as normal as her. These normal conversions were often made up of words, many of which, when transcribed, would be made up of letters. On a normal day at Normalville Junior High School High, she would have normal classes, then go and have a normal lunch. This was one such day. "I think i'll go to lunch," said Tracyn, one day as she was going to lunch, heading to the lunchroom, which is where people often go after they have such thoughts as "I think i'll go to lunch", to go to lunch. She walked to the food serving... thing... line... (I didn't go to public school, i don't know what you call it). anyway, she went to get food. She walked up to the first tray of food. "Hmm, I don't think I'll have spaghetti for lunch today", said Tracyn as she looked at the spaghetti thinking "I don't think I'll have spaghetti for lunch today". She walked to the next tray. "Hmm, i don't think i want huitlacoche for lunch today". She walked to the next tray "Hmm, I don't think I want Ralph's potted meat for lunch today." Then the fateful moment happened: she walked to the next tray, filled with baked beans. She looked at them. They looked at her. She briefly wondered how they were looking back at her, but then she realized the author wasn't necessarily being literal (Although in this case he was), But by this time she realized she had broken the fourth wall, and had made the story less believable, although it wasn't that believable to begin with, although nothing out of the ordinary has happened yet. ANYWAY. She got a heaping helping of these baked beans. From this moment onward, something sparked in her, a lifelong passion for baked beans... And murder. 
               This story will continue next time, and probably finish next time as well. 
      Master Chef

Sunday, September 11, 2011

The Tale of the Goat Named Haggis, pt. 2 of 37

When we left off last time, Haggis had escaped from Slipknot, and he realized he could  become a rapper. He travelled the country far and wide, near and thin, in search of someone who appreciated his rapping skill. But he found no one. One day, he went to Nashville. He saw a man with a handle bar mustache. "That extremely white man with a handle bar mustache looks like he would appreciate my rapping talents!" he said. So haggis went up to him and rapped his best rap, he was letting loose impeccable rhyming with impeccable timing, and the man stared, amazed. "This is one white man with a handlebar mustache that appreciates your rapping talents! But alas, I must be on my way. I have an important interview at the toothpaste cap factory. I'm afraid it won't go very well, for you see, i am not very verbose. If only I was an eloquent speaker as you, sir goat!" The goat agreed that this indeed was a misfortune. But then a thought came to him: perhaps if he could be the man's spokesgoat, he could be useful to the man, and perhaps the man could pay him back with toothpaste caps. When Haggis thought of this, he said to the man "Baaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!!!!" which means "perhaps I could be your spokesgoat, i could be useful to you, and you could pay me back with toothpaste caps!" The man thought this was a wonderful idea. "I think this is a wonderful idea!" the white man with a handlebar mustache said, thinking that this was a wonderful idea. So they made their way to the toothpaste factory.


Thursday, September 8, 2011

The Tale of the Goat Named Haggis, pt. 1 of 37

Once there was a goat. His name was Haggis. When Haggis was a young goat, he always tried to ask his mother questions, but he was a goat and therefore couldn't speak. This upset the goat very much, and as he grew older, he tried to vent his frustration through the medium of music, specifically rap. But he was a goat, and therefore couldn't rap. This upset the goat so much, he dyed his hair jet black and became emo. But since hair was covering his entire body, he had to dye his entire body black. One day the farmer came outside to check on his goats. He was an avid Slipknot fan, and was not very bright (that sentence was slightly redundant). He saw the goat with the dyed black hair and said "That goat should be slipknot's mascot. I think i'll make this goat slipknot's mascot!" so he made the goat slipknot's mascot, but they still made terrible music. One day, while they were in concert, HP Lovecraft showed up. He was inspired by this, and like all authors do when they see something that inspires them..... grew a mustache and shaved it to look like a goat. Finally, Haggis broke free after many years. He had thought before that since he was a goat and couldn't talk, he could never be a rapper. But his years with slipknot had taught him something: you don't actually have to annunciate, or even talk, to be a singer.

THE END! ... for now. Part two next week!

Thursday, September 1, 2011

Why you should mow your yard with an Elephant Eyebrow!

You may not know it, but your lawnmower is evil. Right now, it's probably in your storage shed or garage or lawnmower shack or other type of thing- unless you're mowing right now and simultaneously reading this, or you don't have a lawnmower- but anyway, it's plotting evilly on how best to take over the world. This is why I suggest from now on mowing your yard with….
Think about it. It's economical, and environmentally it's better than a lawnmower! All you have to do is order an Elephant Eyebrow for the low, low price of $19.99!*, and you'll be the envy of all your neighbors! It's quiet, easy-to-use, and stylish! Here's some great features!
-Environmentally safe
-Less work than a traditional lawnmower
-Stylish designer look

Here's some reviews of our groundbreaking product!

"I'm a baby, and I was a baby, and I didn't know I was a baby, but now I'm a baby"
- A baby

"That ain't no potato chip."

- Bradlyn Nichtenennamen

Here's how it works: you click this link, and order.
As for the payment, we'll come to your house in the middle of the night and politely and efficiently take all your possessions and possibly your first born child, if you're poor.

Master Chef

*And by "$19.99" we mean "$7,400.27" Plus whatever jail time you receive for poaching.