Hey cool, you caught that - I picked names for both of my Death Knights by looking around at things on my desk: (ib)uprofen and Dentek brand dental floss picks 
There’s a chronological series of books I have to use which, up till the early part of 20C, used the convention of spelling the word “show” as “shew”. Drives me utterly nuts. It’s not like the rest of the stuff is in Chaucerian English or something - it all reads perfectly fine and modern but for this. It’s just some weird eccentricity on the part of a typesetter.
When I come across the “shew” thing while I’m reading, it’s like walking happily along the street and kicking a huge rock. It breaks my train of thought, and I get all Yosemite Sam at some long-dead printer. Bastard!!
My archaeology teacher says “measure” weirdly. The thing is, he talks normally otherwise. It’s just that he says “may-zhure” instead of “meh-zhure” and since the word “measure” comes up a lot in archaeology, it regularly drives me crazy.
There are a lot of weird St. Louis adult things, but most of them are for teachers past, and so not currently driving me crazy. But they include:
- Dropping he beginning “h” in words that start with a “hu” sound- so a huge human from Houston becomes a youge youman from youston.
- dropping the “a” in days of the week. So they say Sundee, Mondee, Tuesdee, etc.
And more, but I can’t think of them right now.
It bugs me if I’m in a restaurant or any other business and the server/worker answers almost all requests with “No problem.”
“No problem” drives me crazy. It’s not “You’re welcome” with undertones of civility, rather the implication is that “you have not significantly inconvenienced me. Had there been a problem, I would not have exerted myself on your behalf. Fortunately, this did not occur”.
We used to enjoy watching “Nature,” created and hosted by the late George Page. One thing we noticed, though, and then could never stop noticing, was that he pronounced “bear” as “Bayer.”
And, of course, he happened to be in the unusual position of having to talk about Bayers quite a bit.
Let’s face it, people are bigger than they were, and they need more space to fuck!
People who are bothered by “no problem” as a substitute for “you’re welcome” bother me.
If you’re going to nitpick the literal meaning of it that much, you should hate “you’re welcome,” too, because well, gee, if you didn’t think you were welcome to it, you wouldn’t have asked, would you? :rolleyes:
It’s not so much the literal meaning, it’s…it’s that it bothers me, and it’s insane, which are the criteria for the thread. I don’t mean to imply that it should bother you, or even that is should bother me - I just think “what if it had been a problem, would you have still brought me my coffee?”- every single time.
Sorry if I sound like I mourn the civility implicit in the passing phrase ‘you’re welcome’-no doubt the death knell was sounded when men stopped wearing hats. I’ll go ask Starving Artist.
So you don’t think my post falls under the same criteria as yours?
No, I’m just defending and defining my dumb-ass likes and dislikes. I do like the recursiveness of having my dislikes disliked.
I really just wanted to have a pointless thing to complain about so that I could hang out with the cool kids, and maybe get invited to the party. If not, no problem.
[del]You know what bugs me? People who really just wanted to have a pointless thing to complain about so that[/del]
Okay.
You’re far to agreeable, and it is starting to piss me off.
Fuckin’ hate smilies too.
Fellow academics who throw around the overused terms “multicultural” and “diversity” as if they were still living in the 80s bug me.
That is really bad syntax. Sorry.
Don’t fucking swear, god dammit.
My last name has a “W” in it. My dad tells me that originally that our name had a “U” followed by another “U” which naturally got shorten to a “W.”
My birthday is March 6. I love the number 36. 1,2,3,4,6,9,12,18 can all go into it. A totally assume number. My sisters b’day is July 2. 72 is an equally awesome number.
I hate the number 37. Presumptious Prime Number, BFD. Thirty seven thinks it is hot shit because it is a divisor of 111. The number 37 is a sanctimonious and pompous POS sitting on ivory tower of cow manure.