I should probably let this go but I can't. Someone visited a post I wrote about Jim Morrison's bathtub and left a comment. I'm still surprised when someone actually reads what I have written and is kind enough to say hello.
I re-read the post and couldn't help but notice that it was looking a little ragged around the edges -as though it wasn't expecting a gentleman caller. Some modifiers were misplaced, participles dangled and a sentence ended with a preposition*. Surely this is no way to answer the door. It's as though the post opened the door thinking it was a girlfriend coming over to eat Ben & Jerry's ice cream and watch Sex in the City reruns. It turned out to be handsome new neighbor wanting to borrow eggs, because he loves to bake and he isn't gay. There the post was, in a house coat,dirty slippers and a mouth full of Chunky Monkey- quickly brushing a stray lock hair behind her ear and adding a comma where there hadn't been one before. Like Blanche Dubois arranging her hair before she utters, "I've always depended upon the kindness of strangers."
Well the post has pulled it together, it looks good and, more importantly, it knows it looks good. It tells the handsome new neighbor confidently to "run on down to the corner and fetch me a lemon ice." (must be said with your best southern accent)
* This is neither here nor there but as I wrote this I was reminded of something my sister said that still makes me laugh. She was telling me a story and ended a sentence with a preposition. And it went a little something like this...
Misplaced Sister: (telling a long involved story)... where's it at? he asked me
Misplaced: (interrupting) You really shouldn't end your sentence with a preposition.
Misplaced Sister: Good point, Where's it at ...asshole.