Category Archives: Bad Things

Bad Things: (Very) Public Grammatical Errors

My number one pet peeve. Today I signed up for an account with a website that shall remain nameless, and after I logged in I was taken to my new homepage. On the top, in big bold letters, it said:

“Welcome! Because this is you’re first time here, take a look around and get familiar with the awesome stuff you can do with you’re homepage.” 

Yikes. Clearly, the content editor of this website wasn’t into “Schoolhouse Rock” as a youth. “You’re” is a contraction. A contraction is when you squoosh two words together. Contractions are easy to spot, because they have an apostrophe in them that takes the place of a letter. You are = youare = you’re. See? “Your” is the possessive form of “you.” Unless you are from New Jersey, in that case, I believe the correct possessive form of you is “yous.” So: YOUR education, YOUR reading level, YOUR intelligence.

“Another,” however, is not a contraction. Wanna know how I know? It doesn’t have an apostrophe in it. So you can’t just split up “another” and make it into two words, like people frequently do with “a whole nother.” I get it – it rolls right off your tongue. But it is so far from correct it’s unbelievable. And when you write it out, it just doesn’t look right, Amiright? And when you type it out, take note of the red squiggly line that appears under “nother,” and remember that it is not a word. And when you sing it in world-wide hit song? That’s just crossing the line. When I first heard Katy Perry’s “E.T.” I loved it, despite the strong pro-sexual assault undertones. I also noticed that in the hook of the song, it REALLY sounded like she was saying “you’re from a whole nother world, a different dimension.” But I was like, no way could that have been allowed. No way! She’s definitely saying “a whole other.” It certainly would have gone unnoticed to Kanye West, but there’s no way this blatant grammatical error would have been passed over by the writers, producers, record executives, etc. WRONG. When she performed on American Idol a few weeks ago, I watched closely as she was singing/pretending to sing, and there was no mistaking the fact that she was actually saying “nother.” Then, I saw the music video, and she does it there, too, ever so subtly, around the 2:20 mark. Before you watch – let me just tell you that this was one of the weirdest music videos I’ve ever seen. And I’ve seen every single Lady Gaga music video. Honestly, it just keeps getting weirder and weirder until the very end and then you’re like…oh, this must be a joke. They’re trying to be funny.

It’s hard for me to listen to this song now, as catchy as it is. Especially with Tom around, who often sings “YOU’RE FROM A WHOOOOLE NOTHER NOTHER, A WHOOOOLE NOTHER NOTHER,” loudly over Mrs. Perry. Mrs. Brand? Who cares.

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Bad Things: Osama bin Laden, the Media, and Stepping on Cheerios

Understandably, a few people have told me to make bin Laden my Bad Thing for today. I’m not going to concentrate on him very much, because he got what he deserved: he’s dead. That’s not a Bad Thing. I’ve been seeing a lot of facebook statuses and tweets quoting Ezekiel 18:32 and saying we shouldn’t be filled with joy that anyone is dead. Part of me understands this. We shouldn’t feed hate with hate. However, we CAN and SHOULD rejoice in the fact that justice was served to someone who had it coming to him. The correct message was sent. If you attack our country and kill thousands of our innocent civilians, we’ll (eventually) hunt you down and kill you. For the record, I’m totally cool with that.

 Do not rejoice at the death of the man. Rejoice because he will not cause death again. – Sarah Brandon

My fiance watches the news constantly. As much as I appreciate having a significant other who gives a damn about what is going on in the world, CNN 24/7 can be a bit much. I’m a positive person. Also, I can be a little naive. I believed my parents sent our dog to a farm with horses and fields he could run around in until I was 18 years old, when my brother told me the truth one day over a delicious meal at Sun Sun. Visions of Laddie frolicking in wildflower-filled meadows with butterflies that leave trails of glitter behind them instantly vanished from my head, and along with my innocence, my appetite for the steaming pile of beef and broccoli disappeared.

Where was I? Oh right, Tom watches the news a lot. So anyway, positive/slightly naive people can only take the news in small doses, or else our heads will implode. Of course, the positive thing about living with someone whose heroin is CNN is that you’re always in the know. Around 10:20 pm on Sunday, Tom came bursting out of the bedroom. “SOMETHING IS HAPPENING OBAMA CALLED A PRESS CONFERENCE FOR 10:30 AND HE NEVER DOES THIS THIS IS VERY RARE FOR OBAMA TO BE GIVING A PRESS CONFERENCE THIS LATE ON A SUNDAY NIGHT SOMETHING IS HAPPENING.” The closer it got to 10:30, the more hysterical and concerned the newscasters seemed to grow, in turn sending me into a panic. At one point, the male newscaster on MSNBC said:

“Okay so we’re getting reports that Obama is going to announce that…What? Oh wait, I’m being told to hold it. Hold it? Okay, sorry. Sorry folks.”

And I was like SERIOUSLY, SIR? Tom just kept repeating “THIS IS BIG SOMETHING IS HAPPENING,” and my mind was going a mile a minute. Did we come in contact with aliens? Did they tell us they were going to eat all of our heads? Zombies. Someone ate some bad meat or something and turned into a zombie and now they are biting people and making more and more zombies.

Then the news broke that bin Laden was dead. Tom and I collectively cheered, and then I immediately started to cry. Why the tears? 97% because I finally felt a significant amount of closure in regards to the event that forever changed this country and forever changed my generation. The other 3% was because my head wouldn’t be eaten by a vicious alien. But the Media are on my shit-list this week for keeping me in such uncomfortable suspense and saying things that made me start schvitzing like a pudding at a picnic. “I don’t want to speculate, but he is going to announce something we will be digesting for days, maybe weeks.” “For the President himself to speak at a press conference this late on a Sunday…well, this has to be huge. Can’t speculate, but I mean really big.” “This is going to be something that is probably going to change the face of our nation, but we’re not going to speculate.” It was literally the longest ten minutes of my life. I get it, I get it. They don’t want to relay the wrong information. But the newscasters need a little work on their poker faces in this post-9/11 world of ours.

On a lighter note, stepping on Cheerios is terrible. You know what I’m saying? You step on a Cheerio, it makes that poofy crispy crunchy noise and leaves a ring of Cheerio dust on the floor and on the bottom of your foot. It’s the worst. Ladies and gentlemen, first world problems.

Bad Things: Poor Spring Fashion Decisions

SPRING. It has finally arrived. Along with the sunshine and flowers, inappropriate and often hideous clothing starts to creep out, too.

First, let me just say that the general idea for this Bad Things was submitted by Casey. I love when people send me ideas. It requires less thinking on my part – so please feel free. And don’t be offended if I haven’t used your idea yet. It’s on a list, I promise. My e-mail is listed on the “About the Author” page. Or tweet me @mollymckenna. I love Twitter so much. Okay terrible spring fashion decisions GO.
Continue reading Bad Things: Poor Spring Fashion Decisions

Bad Things: Living With a Boy

I’m at a stage in my life where a good portion of my girlfriends are either living with their significant others, or they are thinking about living with their significant others. I live with a boy. Have for some time. We are engaged. I like him a lot. See? And to be honest with you, living with a boy is really awesome, and I don’t have many Bad Things to say about it. It does however come with a few, small downsides. And I’m doing a Good Things: Living With a Boy on Friday, so relax. Continue reading Bad Things: Living With a Boy