All becomes clear.
“It surprised me, too…”
I still haven’t seen a cite from you showing that who’s is a possessive.
HaHa…
Now you’ve all had to suffer, as I have, while reading your crappy weblogs.
I plead “no contest” your honor.
\
So, you’ve intended this, did you?
So your life is so pitiful and pathetic that you have nothing to do other than torture yourself by reading “crappy weblogs”?
If you wanted people to say “Wow” then you’ve succeeded… as long as you also wanted them to follow up with “this guy’s an idiot.”
In this thread, that spun out of control, you would be right.
So it was proof you were wanting? You are wrong, dear boy.
Incidentally, your cite refers to the correct (abbreviated) usage, not the possessive. In what context do you think “who’s who” makes sense as a possessive, exactly?
Who’s Who is a handy guidebook to important people.
Whose Who is an equally handy guidebook to master/slave relationships.
Damn you, Mr Wright.
(Although I have to say I was expecting a Doctor Who reference first…)
holds Jerk down, ties him to the computer chair and opens to his blog
READ THIS TEXT OUT LOUD WHILE I SCROLL IT! MUAHAHAHAHAHAHAhack**wheezeHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!
Unless the above text is accurate, which it is not (as I never start laughing with “Muahahaha”), I can’t imagine why you read the horribly boring blogs. Just seems counterproductive.
Y’know what I hate? I hate people who write big blocks of text and don’t put in paragraphs. They write and write and write about anything that strikes their fancy but keep it all in the same paragraph so the reader is faced with an impenetrable block of text. Subject changes? Doesn’t matter. This sort of person thinks that the ENTER key will diminish their man-or-woman hood. Now speaking of pie, I’m partial to cream pies. Banana cream, chocolate cream, lemon cream (though merangue is better, of course), they’re all good, but the king of all cream pies is coconut. Did you know that Peter Percival Patterson’s pet pig Porky loved pie? He loved pie for breakfast, pie in the afternoon and pie before he went to bed. Peter Percival Patterson’s pet pig Porky loved peach pie, pineapple pie, pumpkin pie, mince tarts… Peter Percival Patterson’s pet pig Porky ate so much pie that do you know what he did? He popped. I know how Peter Percival Patterson’s pet pig Porky feels. Why, I could eat pie all day! And I could write about eating pie all day. In long, paragraphless blocks of impenetrable text. And, as an aside, as all thinking people know, if one pointed to a pie on Peter Percival Patterson’s property, one could say “Whose pie is that?” (though of course, it would be Porky’s). One would not say “Who’s pie is that”, as it would make one look like a witling. Like people who write long, impenetrable blocks of text that jump from one though to another without putting in paragraphs. But we were talking about pies. Why are grape pies so rare? Grapes are yummy, pies are yummy. The two should be a natural together but a quick scan of the web (upon which there are not a derth of paragraphs) only shows a few. Far less than there are for apple pies, say. Does anyone have an opinion on paragraphs…or pies?
Fenris
This has to be the funniest hijacked thread ever.
Well, Fenris, I agree with you on the paragraph-use thing, but I’m afraid I just don’t like fruit pies. They just seem like they’re going against the natural order of things in the baked-goods world, which involves cake crushing all inferior baked goods with its sheer cakey goodness. (This cake is of the chocolatey variety.) Grape pies make me think of grapes, which I love and would eat more often except that I always spend a long time peeling them, making my fingers look all wrinkly. When people want to illustrate decadence, they use an example of a woman lounging while eating peeled grapes. I wonder why that is. When did it start? Chocolate is also a particularly decadent food, with all those examples of people in commercials (usually with lipstick on) eating a piece of dark chocolate really slowly and moaning in delight. I wonder what kind of deprived life they must lead, getting so excited about chocolate, but I guess I can’t really blame them. Especially if it’s good chocolate.
…I want chocolate.
Dear OP:
Your a iddie-it.
At the risk of head-banging repetition, Jerk, you’re wrong.
You’re fucking wrong.
You’re fucking unutterably 100% WRONG about this.
WRONG. Wrong wrong wrong wrong wrong.
WRONG. (This last one is Webster, whom you tried incompetently to cite.)
Worst of all, you’re refusing to admit how dreadfully wrong you are in the face of overwhelming evidence.
A handy guide for you, you grammar-abusing apostrophile.
This post © 2003, The Apostrophe Nazi™
Beware of Jerks bearing citations.
Demand substantiation, as you would of any good member making a dubious claim.
Has Fenris been reading Gertrude Stein again?
Dear, uh, Jerk, you’re living up to your username a little too much. You’re obviously yanking people’s chains with your dumb “Who’s” discussion back there - do that sort of thing again, and you’re out of here, permanently.
Since no one is talking about crappy weblogs anymore either, I’ll just close this thread.