February 14, 2006
one a my redars was askin me if i read pg wodhose teh othar day an i was like 'no but i read nc-17 woodhouse har har!' liek slyly covaring up not havin a clue. so its wiht great ralief i found worstalls bit about teh wodehouse qooate servar:
She made a sound like a pekingese being hit on the back of the neck with a sack of wet mastodons by a curate, when it had expected a golf ball.
He had the look of a Pekingese discovering a mastodon on a golf course, instead of an Aunt.
As is so often the case with Aunts, the Pekingese had consumed a mastodon, only to bring forth a butler.
The mastondon's Aunt bellowed at the butler, like a curate finding a golf ball in a Pekingese.
so i havant been misign much.
Links to this post:
I suppose, Mr. Bogol, Sir, that you may be able to do better than that, and, I hope, you will forgive me for being unable to recall a time during which you have.
Arlington does better than that in every post. I mean, say what you will about the prose around here, but at least he doesn't bloat thoughts into 50 words if they need fewer than 20.
Although, to compensate for the omission, he will frequently ensure that only twenty to fifty per cent of the letters in each word occupy their customary orthographic niches.