Combat-Ready

Over at Banjaxed A. J. Somerset sends a not too subtle note: don't fuck with my commas. And other stuff. And I haven't even started copyediting yet. That's later this week.

Dear [Redacted],

Why in the name of blue thundering Jesus Smurf do you keep moving my commas? Is there any reason? Can you not perceive that those sentences have a rhythm, a rhythm that you, with your tin ear and newspaperman’s sensibility, are fucking up in detail? I swear, if you move one more comma without just cause, I will cut it out, photocopy it to a million times its size, fly to British Columbia, and shove it up your ass, paper cuts be damned. Kindly stop moving my commas around. I put them there for a reason.

There's also some A-Team dialogue I'm not expecting to see in the movie:

Mr. T: I pity da foo who moves my comma!

Ed: “I pity the fool.”

Mr. T: Foo! Don’t you be messin’ with my aesthetic!

[Sound of breaking limbs.]

Ed: I need anaesthetic.

Mr. T: Foo! You got no aesthetic.

I've been warned.

For the rest, please go here.